Chapter 11
NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD, CONTINUED Five minutes had elapsed after the town clock struck two, before Alan Fairford, who had made a small detour to put his letter into the post-house, reached the mansion of Mr. Provost Crosbie, and was at once greeted by the voice of that civic dignitary, and the rural dignitary his visitor, as by the voices of men impatient for their dinner. 'Come away, Mr. Fairford--the Edinburgh time is later than ours,' said the provost. And, 'Come away, young gentleman,' said the laird; 'I remember your father weel at the Cross thirty years ago--I reckon you are as late in Edinburgh as at London, four o'clock hours--eh?' 'Not quite so degenerate,' replied Fairford; 'but certainly many Edinburgh people are so ill-advised as to postpone their dinner till three, tha
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