Grant.—Stop for one moment, Clifford, till we ring for fresh candles, or we shall be in darkness before you have uttered five sentences more.

Dominie.—Stay, sir, I’ll run to the kitchen for them myself. Preserve me! the less time we keep Mr. Clifford’s poor lassie in such misery the better.

Mr. Macpherson soon returned with the new lights, set them down on the table, and drawing in his chair, put his elbows upon his knees, placed his cheeks firmly in the palms of his hands, and sat with his eyes eagerly fixed upon Clifford’s countenance, with the most ludicrous expression of earnestness. Clifford resumed as follows.