It was in the ordinary black letter.
"Can ye mak ought o't ?" said Edie to the adept.
"S," said the philosopher, like a child getting his lesson in the primer--"S, T, A, R, C, H,--Starch!--dat is what de woman-washers put into de neckerchers, and de shirt collar." "Search!" echoed Ochiltree; "na, na, Mr.Dusterdeevil, ye are mair of a conjuror than a clerk--it's search, man, search--See, there's the Ye clear and distinct." "Aha! I see it now--it is search--number one.

Mein himmel! then there must be a number two, mein goot friend: for search is what you call to seek and dig, and this is but number one! Mine wort, there is one great big prize in de wheel for us, goot Maister Ochiltree." "Aweel, it may be sae; but we canna howk fort enow--we hae nae shules, for they hae taen them a' awa--and it's like some o' them will be sent back to fling the earth into the hole, and mak a' things trig again.

But an ye'll sit down wi' me a while in the wood, I'se satisfy your honour that ye hae just lighted on the only man in the country that could hae tauld about Malcolm Misticot and his hidden treasure--But first we'll rub out the letters on this board, for fear it tell tales." And, by the assistance of his knife, the beggar erased and defaced the characters so as to make them quite unintelligible, and then daubed the board with clay so as to obliterate all traces of the erasure.
Dousterswivel stared at him in ambiguous silence.

There was an intelligence and alacrity about all the old man's movements, which indicated a person that could not be easily overreached, and yet (for even rogues acknowledge in some degree the spirit of precedence) our adept felt the disgrace of playing a secondary part, and dividing winnings with so mean an associate.

His appetite for gain, however, was sufficiently sharp to overpower his offended pride, and though far more an impostor than a dupe, he was not without a certain degree of personal faith even in the gross superstitions by means of which he imposed upon others.