Chapter 12
NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD, CONTINUED The room was no sooner deprived of Mr. Maxwell of Summertrees's presence, than the provost looked very warily above, beneath, and around the apartment, hitched his chair towards that of his remaining guest, and began to speak In a whisper which could not have startled 'the smallest mouse that creeps on floor.' 'Mr. Fairford,' said he, 'you are a good lad; and, what is more, you are my auld friend your father's son. Your father has been agent for this burgh for years, and has a good deal to say with the council; so there have been a sort of obligations between him and me; it may have been now on this side and now on that; but obligations there have been. I am but a plain man, Mr. Fairford; but I hope you understand me?' 'I believe you mean me well, p
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