 CHAPTER 15 THE LAD WITH A SILVER BUTTON THROUGH THE ILE The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, like the Isle I had just left, being all bog and briar and big stone. There may be roads for them that know that country well, but for my part I had no better guide than my own nose, and no other landmark than Benmore. I aimed as well as I could for the smoke I had seen so often from the island, and with all my great weariness and the difficulty of the way came upon the house and the bottom of a little hollow, about five or six at night. It was low and longish, roofed with turf and build of unmortared stones, and on a mound in front of it an old gentleman sat smoking his pipe in the sun. With what little English he had he gave me to understand that my shipmates had got safe ashore, and it broke in bread in that very house on the day after. "'Was there one?' I asked. Dressed like a gentleman?' He said the all-war rough great-coats, but to be sure the first of them, the one that came alone, wore breeches and stockings, while the rest had sailor's trousers. "'Ah!' said I, and he would have a feathered hat?' He told me no, that he was bareheaded like myself. At first I thought Allen might have lost his hat, and then the rain came in my mind, and I judged it more likely he had it out of harm's way under his great coat. This set me smiling, partly because my friend was safe, partly to think of his vanity in dress. And then the old gentleman clapped his hand to his brow, and cried out that I must be the lad with the silver button. "'Why, yes,' said I, and some wonder. "'Well, then,' said the old gentleman, I have a word for you, that you are to follow your friend to his country by toro say.' He then asked me how I had fared, and I told him my tale. A South Country man would certainly have laughed, but this old gentleman, I call him so because of his manners, for his clothes were dropping off his back, heard me all through with nothing but gravity and pity. When I had done he took me by the hand, led me into his hut, it was no better, it presented me before his wife as if she had been the queen and I a duke. The good woman set oat bread before me in a cold grouse, patting my shoulder and smiling to me all the time, for she had no English, and the old gentleman not to be behind brewed me a strong punch out of their country spirit. All the while I was eating, and after that when I was drinking the punch, I could scarce come to believe in my good fortune, and the house, though it was thick with a peat-smoke and as full of holes as a colander, seemed like a palace. The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber, the good people let me lie, and it was near noon of the next day before I took the road, my throat already easier, and my spirits quite restored by good fare and good news. The old gentleman, though I pressed him hard, would take no money, and gave me an old bonnet for my head, though I am free to own I was no sooner out of view of the house than I very jealously washed this gift of his in a wayside fountain. Thought I to myself, if these are the wild Highlanders I could wish my own folk wilder. I not only started late, but I must have wandered nearly half the time. True, I met plenty of people, grubbing in little miserable fields that would not keep a cat, or hurting little kind about the bigness of asses. The Highland dressed being forbidden by law since the rebellion, and the people condemned to the lowland habit, which they much disliked. It was strange to see the variety of their array. Some went bare, only for a hanging cloak or great coat, and carried their trousers on their backs like a useless burden. Some had made an imitation of the tartan with little party-colored stripes patched together like an old wife's quilt. Others, again, still wore the Highland filibeg, but by putting a few stitches between the legs transformed it into a pair of trousers like a Dutchman's. All those makeshifts were condemned and punished, for the law was harshly applied, in hopes to break up the clan spirit, but in that out of the way sea-bound isle there were few to make remarks, and fewer to tell tales. They seemed in great poverty, which was no doubt natural, now that rapine was put down, and the chiefs kept no longer an open house, and the roads, even such a wandering country by-track as the one I followed, were infested with beggars. And here again I marked a difference from my own part of the country, for our lowland beggars, even the gownsmen themselves who begged by patent, had a louting, flattering way with them, and if you gave them a plate can ask changed would very civilly return you a bottle. But these Highland beggars stood on their dignity, asked alms only to buy snuff by their account, and would give no change. To be sure this was no concern of mine, except in so far as it entertained me by the way. What was much more to the purpose, few had any English, and these few, unless they were the brotherhood of beggars, not very anxious to place it at my service. I knew Torah say to be my destination, and repeated the name to them, and pointed, but instead of simply pointing and reply they would give me a screed of the Gaelic that set me foolish, so it was small wonder if I went out of my road as often as I stayed in it. At last about eight at night, and already very weary, I came to a lone house, where I asked admittance and was refused, until I bethought me of the power of money in so poor a country, and held up one of my guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon the man of the house, who at hitherto pretended to have no English, and driven me from his door by signals, suddenly began to speak as clearly as was needful, and agreed for five shillings to give me a night's lodging, and guide me the next day to Torah say. I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be robbed, but I might as spared myself the pain, for my host was no robber, only miserably poor, and a great cheat. He was not alone in his poverty, but the next morning we must go five miles about to the house of what he called a rich man, to have one of my guineas changed. This was perhaps a rich man for mull, he would have scarce been thought so in the south, for it took all he had, the whole house was turned upside down, and a neighbor brought under contribution, before he could scrape together twenty shillings in silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting he could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying locked up. For all that he was very curious and well-spoken, made us both sit down with his family to dinner, and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, for which my rascal guy grew so merry that he refused to start. I was forgetting angry, and appealed to the rich man, Hector McLean was his name, who had been a witness to our bargain and to my pavement of the five shillings. But McLean had taken his share of the punch, and vowed that no gentleman should leave his table after the bowl was brewed, so there was nothing for it but to sit and hear Jacobite toast and Gaelic songs till all were tipsy, and staggered off to the bed or the barn for their night's rest. Next day, the fourth of my travels, we were up before five upon the clock, but my rascal guy got to the bottle at once, and it was three hours before I had him clear of the house, and then, as you shall hear, only for a worse disappointment. As long as we went down to Heathery Valley that lay before Mr. McLean's house, all went well. Only my guy looked constantly over his shoulder, and when I asked him the cause, only grinned at me. No sooner, however, had we crossed the back of the hill and got out of sight of the house windows, than he told me Toroce lay right in front, and that hilltop, which he pointed out, was my best landmark. I care very little for that, said I, since you are going with me. The impenet cheat answered me in the Gaelic that he had no English. My fine fellow, I said, I know very well your English comes and goes. Tell me what we'll bring it back. Is it more money you wish? Five shillings mer, said he, and herself would bring you there. I reflected a while, and then offered him two, which he accepted greedily, and insisted on having in his hands at once, for luck, as he said, but I think it was rather for my misfortune. The two shillings carried him not quite as many miles, at the end of which distance he sat down upon the wayside, and took off his brogues from his feet, like a man about to rest. I was now red-hot. Ha! said I. Have you no more English? He said impudently. No. At that I boiled over, and lifted my hand to strike him, and he, drawing a knife from his rags, squatted back and grinned at me like a wildcat. At that, forgetting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him, put aside his knife with my left, and struck him in the mouth with the right. I was a strong lad, and very angry, and he but a little man, and he went down before me heavily. By good luck his knife flew out of his hand as he fell. I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a good morning, and set off upon my way, leaving him barefoot and disarmed. I chuckled to myself as I went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a variety of reasons. First he knew he could have no more of my money, next the brogues were worth in that country only a few pence, and lastly the knife, which was really a dagger, it was against the law for him to carry. In about half an hour of walk I overtook a great ragged man, moving pretty fast but feeling before him with a staff. He was quite blind, and told me he was a catechist, which should have put me at my ease. But his face went against me, it seemed dark, and dangerous, and secret, and presently as we began to go on the long side I saw the steel butt of a pistol sticking from under the flap of his coat pocket. To carry such a thing meant to find a fifteen-pound sterling upon a first offence, and transportation to the colonies upon a second. Nor could I quite see why a religious teacher should go armed, or what a blind man could be doing with a pistol. I told him about my guide, for I was proud of what I had done, and my vanity for once got the heels of my prudence. At the mention of the five shillings he cried out so loud, that I made up my mind I should say nothing of the other two, and was glad he could not see my blushes. Was it too much? I asked, a little faltering. Too much, cries he. Why, I would guide you to Toroce myself for a drama brandy, and give you the great pleasure of my company, me that is a man of some learning, in the bargain. I said I did not see how a blind man could be a guide, but at that he laughed aloud and said his stick was eyes enough for an eagle. In the Isle of Mull, at least, says he, where I know every stone and header-bush by mark of head. See now, he said, striking right and left, as if to make sure. Down there a burn is running, and at the head of it there stands a bit of a small hill with a stone cocked upon the top of that, and it's hard at the foot of the hill that the way runs by to Toroce, and the way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will show grassy through the heather. I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder. Ha! says he, that's nothing. Would you believe me now, that before the act came out, and when there were weapons in this country I could shoot? I could I, cries he, and then with a leer. If he had such a thing as a pistol here to try with, I would show you how it's done. I told him I had nothing of the sort, and gave him a wider berth. If he had known, his pistol stuck at that time quite plainly out of his pocket, and I could see the sun twinkle on the steel of the butt. But by the better luck for me he knew nothing, thought all was covered, and lied on in the dark. He then began to question me, cunningly, where I came from, whether I was rich, whether I could change a five shilling-piece for him, which he declared he had that moment in his sporan. And all the time he kept edging up to me, and I avoiding him. We were now upon a sort of green cattle-track which crossed the hills towards Torresay, and we kept changing sides upon that like answers in a reel. I had so plainly the upper hand that my spirits rose, and indeed I took a pleasure in this game of blind man's bluff, but the catechists grew angrier and angrier, and at last began to swear in Gaelic into strike for my legs with his staff. Then I told him that, sure enough, I had a pistol in my pocket as well as he, and if he did not strike across the hill due south I would even blow his brains out. He became at once very polite, and after trying to soften me for some time, but quite in vain, he cursed me once more in Gaelic and took himself off. I watched him striding along through bog and briar, tapping with his stick, until he turned the end of a hill and disappeared in the next hollow. Then I struck on again for Torresay, much better pleased to be alone than to travel with that man of learning. This was an unlucky day, and these two, of whom I had just rid myself one after the other, were the two worst men I met with in the Highlands. At Torresay, on the sound of mull, and looking over to the mainland of Morvin, there was an inn with an innkeeper, who was a mclean it appeared, of a very high family, for to keep an inn is thought even more genteel in the Highlands than it is with us. Perhaps his partaking of hospitality, or perhaps because the trade is idle and drunken. He spoke good English, and finding me to be something of a scholar, tried me first in French, where he easily beat me, and then in the Latin, in which I don't know which of us did best. This pleasant rivalry put us at once upon friendly terms, and I sat up and drank punch with him, or, to be more correct, sat up and watched him drink it, until he was so tipsy that he wept upon my shoulder. I tried him, as if by accident, with the sight of Allen's button, but it was plain he had never seen or heard of it. Indeed he bore some grudge against the family and friends of Ardschild, and before he was drunk he read me a L. M. Poon in very good Latin, but with a very ill meaning, which he had made in L. Edgiac verses upon a person of that house. When I told him of my catechist he shook his head, and said I was lucky to have got clear off. That is a very dangerous man. He said, Duncan McKee, his name, he can shoot by the ear at several yards, and he has often been accused of highway robberies and wants of murder. The cream of it is, says I, that he called himself a catechist. And why should he not? says he, when that is what he is. It was McLean of Duart gave it to him before he was blind. But perhaps it was a pity, says my host, for he is always on the road, going from one place to another to hear the young folks say their religion, and doubtless that is a great temptation to the poor man. At last, when my landlord could drink no more, he showed me to a bed, and I lay down in the very good spirits, having traveled the greater part of that big and crooked island of Mull, from Ered to Torresay, fifty miles as the crow flies, and with my wanderings much nearer a hundred in four days and with little fatigue. Indeed I was by far in better heart and health of body at the end of that long tramp than I had been at the beginning. CHAPTER XVI. THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON There is a regular ferry from Torresay to Kinlacaline on the mainland. Both shores of the sound are in the country of the strong clan of the McLeans, and the people that passed the ferry with me were almost all of that clan. The skipper of the boat, on the other hand, was called Neil Roy McCrob, and since McCrob was one of the names of Allen's clansmen, and Allen himself had sent me to that ferry, I was eager to come to private speech of Neil Roy. In the crowded boat this was of course impossible, and the passage was a very slow affair. There was no wind, and as the boat was wretchedly equipped, we could pull but two oars on one side and one on the other. The men gave way, however, with a good will, the passengers taking spells to help them, and the whole company giving the time in Gaelic boat songs. And what were the songs and the sea air, and the good nature and spirit of all concerned, and the bright weather, the passage was a pretty thing to have seen. But there was one melancholy part. In the mouth of La Colline we found a great sea-going ship at anchor, and this I supposed at first to be one of the king's cruisers which were kept along that coast, both summer and winter, to prevent communication with the French. As we got a little nearer it became plain she was a ship of merchandise, and what still more puzzled me, not only her decks but the sea-beach also, were quite black with people, and skiffs were continually plying to and fro between them. Yet nearer, and there began to come to our ears a great sound of mourning, the people on board and those on the shore crying and lamenting one to another so as to pierce the heart. Then I understood this was an emigrant ship bound for the American colonies. We put the ferryboat alongside, and the exiles leaned over the bulwarks, weeping and reaching out their hands to my fellow passengers, among whom they counted some near friends. How long this might have gone on I do not know, for they seemed to have no sense of time, but at last the captain of the ship, who seemed near beside himself, and no great wonder, in the midst of this crying and confusion, came to the side and begged us to depart. Airpon Neil sheared off, and the chief singer in our boat struck into a melancholy air, which was presently taken up both by the emigrants and their friends upon the beach, so that it sounded from all sides like a lament for the dying. I saw the tears run down the cheeks of the men and women in the boat, even as they bent at the oars, and the circumstances and the music of the song, which is one called La Cabra No More, were highly affecting even to myself. At Kinlock Alene I got Neil Roy upon one side on the beach, and said I made sure he was one of Appen's men. And what for no? said he. I am seeking somebody, said I, and it comes in my mind that you will have news of him. Allen Breck steward is his name. And very foolishly, instead of showing him the button, I sought to pass a shilling in his hand. At this he drew back. I am very much affronted, he said, and this is not the way that one gentleman should behave to another at all, the man you ask for is in France, but if he were in my sporen, says he, and your belly full of shillings, it would not hurt a hair upon his body. I saw I had gone the wrong way to work, and without wasting time upon apologies showed him the button lying in the hollow of my palm. Howeeel, wheeel, said Neil, and I think you might have begun with that end of the stick, whatever. But if you are the lad with the silver button, all is well, and I have the word to see that you come safe. But if you will pardon me to speak plainly, says he, there is a name that you should never take into your mouth, and that is the name of Allen Breck. And there is a thing that you would never do, and that is to offer your dirty money to a Helen gentleman. It was not very easy to apologize, for I could scarce tell him what was the truth that I had never dreamed he would set up to be a gentleman until he told me so. Neil on his part had no wish to prolong his dealings with me, only to fulfill his orders and be done with it, and he made haste to give me my route. This was to lie the night in King Lockelein and the public in, to cross Morvan the next day to Ardgur, and lie the night in the house of one John of the Claymore, who was warned that I might come, the third day to be set across one lock at Corrin, and another at Balakulish, and then ask my way to the house of James of the Glens, at Alcarne Endurer of Appen. There was a good deal of faring, as you hear, the sea and all this part running deep into the mountains and winding about their roots. It makes the country strong to hold and difficult to travel, but full of prodigious wild and dreadful prospects. I had some other advice from Neil, to speak with no one by the way, to avoid wigs, cambels, and the red soldiers, to leave the road and lie in a bush if I saw any of the latter coming, for it was never chancey to meet in with them, and in grief, to conduct myself like a robber or a Jacobite agent, as perhaps Neil thought me. The Inn at Kinlachaline was the most beggarly vile place that ever pigs were stied in, full of smoke, vermin, and silent highlanders. I was not only discontented with my lodging, but with myself for my mismanagement of Neil, and thought I could hardly be worse off. But very wrongly, as I was soon to see, for I had not been half an hour at the Inn, standing in the door most of the time, to ease my eyes from the peat-smoke, when a thunderstorm came close by, the springs broke in the little hill on which the Inn stood, and one into the house became a running water. Places of public entertainment were bad enough all over Scotland in those days, yet it was a wonder to myself, when I had to go from the fireside to the bed in which I slept, weeding over the shoes. Only in my next day's journey I overtook a little stout, solemn man, walking very slowly with his toes turned out, sometimes reading in a book, and sometimes marking the place with his finger, and dressed decently and plainly in something of a clerical style. This I found to be another catechist, but of a different order from the blind man of Mull, being indeed one of those sent out by the Edinburgh Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to evangelize the more savage places of the Highlands. His name was Henderland. He spoke with a broad South Country tongue, which I was beginning to weary for the sound of, and besides common countryship, we soon found we had a more particular bond of interest, for my good friend, the Minister of Essendine, had translated into the Gaelic in his by-time a number of hymns and pious books, which Henderland used in his work, and held in great esteem. Indeed it was one of these he was carrying and reading when we met. We fell in company at once, our ways lying together as far as to King Gerlach. As we went he stopped and spoke with all the way fairers and workers that we met were passed, and though of course I could not tell what they discoursed about, yet I judge Mr. Henderland must be well liked in the countryside, for I observed many of them to bring out their mulls and share a pinch of snuff with him. I told him as far in my affairs as I judged wise. As far that is as they were none of Alans, and gave Balakulish as the place I was travelling to, to meet a friend, for I thought Akharn or even Durur would be too particular, and might put him on the scent. On his part he told me much of his work, and the people he worked among, the hiding priests and Jacobites, the disarming act, the dress, and many other curiosities of the time and place. He seemed moderate, blaming Parliament in several points, and especially because they had framed the act more severely against those who wore the dress than against those who carried weapons. This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the Appentenance, questions which I thought would seem natural enough in the mouth of one travelling to that country. He said it was a bad business. It's wonderful, said he, where the tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. You don't carry such a thing as snuff, do you, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, I'm better wanting it. But these tenants, as I was saying, are doubtless partly driven to it. James Stewart in Durur, that's him they call James of the Glens, is half-brother to Ardschild, the captain of the clan, and he is a man much looked up to and drives very hard. And then this one they call Allen Breck. Ah! I cried. What of him? What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth? said Henderlin. He's here in a way, here to-day, and gone to-morrow. A fair heather-cat. He might be glowering at the two of us out of yarn wind-bush, and I wouldn't have wonder. You don't carry such a thing as snuff, will you? I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. It's highly possible, said he, sighing, but it seems strange you shouldn't have carried it. However, I was saying, this Allen Breck is a bold, desperate customer, and well-kent to be James's right hand. His life is forfeit already. He would boggle it nothing, and maybe, if a tenant body would have hanged back, he would get a dirk in his wame. You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderlin, said I. If it is all fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it. Nah, said Mr. Henderlin, but there's love, too, and self-denial that should put the like of you and me to shame. There's something fine about it, no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Allen Breck, by all that I hear, is a chill to be respected. As many a lion's snick-draw sits close in kirk, in her own part of the country, and stands well in the world's eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yawned, misguided shedder of man's blood. Hi! Hi! We might take a lesson by them. You'll perhaps think I've been too long in the Highlands," he added, smiling to me. I told him not at all that I had seen much to admire among the Highlanders, and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a Highlander. I, said he, that's true, it's a fine blood. And what is the king's agent about? I asked. Colin Campbell, says Henderlin, putting his head in a bee's bike. He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear, said I. Yes, says he, but the business is gone back and forth, as folks say. First James of the Glens rode to Enborough, and got some lawyer, a steward, and a doubt, they all hanged together like bats and a steeple, and had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell came in again, and had the upper hand before the barons of Exchequer, and now they tell me the first of the tenants are to flit tomorrow. It's to begin at Durar, under James's very windows, which doesn't seem wise by my humble way of it. Do you think they'll fight? I asked. Well, says Henderlin, they're disarmed, or supposed to be, for there's still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places, and then Colin Campbell has the soldiers coming. But for all that, if I was his lady-wife, I wouldn't be well pleased till I got him home again. They're queer customers, the Appenstewards. I asked if they were worse than their neighbors. No, they, said he, and that's the worst part of it, for if Colin Roy can get his business done in Appen, he has it all to begin again in the next country, which they call memoir, and which is one of the countries of the Camerons. He's king's factor upon both, and from both he has to drive out the tenants. And indeed, Mr. Balfour, to be open with you, it's my belief that if he escapes the one lot, he'd get his death by the other. So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day, until at last Mr. Handelen, after expressing his delight in my company, and satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. Campbell's, whom, says he, I would make the bold to call that sweet singer of our coveted Zion, propose that I should make a short stage and lie the night in his house, a little beyond King Garrlock. To say truth, I was overjoyed, for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double misadventure, first with a guide and next with a gentleman's skipper, I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger. Accordingly we shook hands upon the bargain, and came in the afternoon to a small house, standing alone by the shore of the Linnilock. The sun was already gone from the desert mountains of Ardgur upon the Hitherside, but shone on those of Append on the farther. The Lough lay as still as a lake, only the gulls were crying round the sides of it, and the whole place seemed solemn and uncouth. We had no sooner come to the door of Mr. Handelen's dwelling than to my great surprise, for I was now used to the politeness of Highlanders. He burst rudely past me, dashed into the room, caught up a jar and a small horn-spoon, and began ladling snuff into his nose in most excessive quantities. Then he had a hearty fit of sneezing, and looked round upon me with a rather silly smile. It's a vow I took, says he. I took a vow upon me that I would not carry it. Doubtless it's a great privation, but when I think upon the martyrs, not only to the Scottish Covenant, but to other points of Christianity, I think shame to mind it. As soon as we had eaten, and porridge and whey were the best of the good man's diet, he took a grave face and said he had a duty to perform by Mr. Campbell, and that was to inquire into my state of mind towards God. I was inclined to smile at him since the business of the snuff, but he had not spoken long before he brought the tears into my eyes. There are two things that man should never weary of—goodness and humility. We get none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people, but Mr. Henderlin had their very speech upon his tongue. And though I was a good deal puffed up with my adventures and with having come off, as the saying is, with flying colors, yet he soon had me on my knees beside a simple, poor old man, and both proud and glad to be there. Before we went to bed he offered me sixpence to help me on my way. Out of a scanty store he kept in the turf wall of his house, at which excess of goodness I knew not what to do. But at last he was so earnest with me that I thought at the more mannerly part to let him have his way, and so left him poorer than myself. CHAPTER 17 OF KIDNAPPED The next day Mr. Henderlin found for me a man who had a boat of his own, and was to cross the linear lock that afternoon into Apen fishing. Him he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his flock, and in this way I saved a long day's travel, and the price of the two public ferries I must otherwise have passed. It was near noon before we set out, a dark day with clouds, and the sun shining upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had scarce a wave upon it, so that I must put the water to my lips before I could believe it to be truly salt. The mountains on either side were high, rough, and barren, very black and gloomy in the shadow of the clouds, but all silver-laced with little water-courses where the sun shone upon them. It seemed a hard country, this of Apen, for people to care as much about as Alan did. There was but one thing to mention. A little after we had started, the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the water-side to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers' coats. Every now and then, too, there came little sparks and lightnings, as though the sun had struck upon bright steel. I asked my boatman what it should be, and he answered he supposed it was some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William in Daepen against the poor tenetry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight to me, and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen King George's troops, I had no good will to them. At last we came so near the point of land at the entering end of Lock Leven that I begged to be set on shore. My boatman, who was an honest fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist, would feign have carried me on to Balakulish, but as this was to take me farther from my secret destination, I insisted, and was set on shore at last under the wood of Lettermore, or Lettervor, as I have heard it both ways, in Alan's country of Apen. This was a wood of birches growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain that overhung the lock. It had many openings and ferny hows, and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oat bread of Mr. Henderlin's, and think upon my situation. Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midges, but far more by the doubts of my mind. What I ought to do, why I was going to join myself with an outlaw and a would-be murderer like Alan, whether I should not be acting more like a man of sense, to tramp back to the South Country direct by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell, or even Mr. Henderlin, would think of me if they should learn my folly and presumption. These were the doubts that now began to come in on me stronger than ever. As I was so sitting and thinking, a sound of men and horses came to me through the wood, and presently after, at a turning of the road, I saw four travellers coming to view. The way was in this part so rough and narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The first was a great red-headed gentleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who carried his hat in his hand, and fanned himself, for he was in a breathing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, I correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant and wore some part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a Highland family, and either an outlaw, or else a singular good odour with a government, since the wearing of tartan was against the act. If I had been better versed in these things I would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle, or Campbell colours. This servant had a good size to portmanteau, strapped on his horse, and a net of lemons to brew punch with, hanging at the saddle, though, as was often the custom with luxurious travellers in that part of the country. As for the fourth who brought up the tale, I had seen his like before, and knew him at once to be a sheriff's officer. I had no sooner seen these people coming than I made up my mind, for no reason that I can tell, to go through with my adventure, and when the first came alongside of me I rose up from the bracken and asked him the way to Ocarne. He stopped and looked at me, as I thought a little oddly, and then turning to the lawyer. Mungo, said he, there as many a man would think this more of a warning than two piazz, here am I on my road to Dourer on the job you can, and here as a young land starts up out of the bracken and spears if I'm on the way to Ocarne. Glenure, said the other, this is an ill subject for jesting. These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me while the two followers had halted about a stone cast in the rear. And what seek ye, Ocarne? said Colin Roy Campbell of Glenure, him they called the Red Fox, for it was he that I had stopped. The man that lives there, said I. Brothers of the Glen's, says Glenure, musingly, and then to the lawyer. Is he gathering his people, think ye? Any way, says the lawyer, we shall do better to bide where we are and let the soldiers rally us. If you are concerned for me, said I, I am neither of his people nor yours but an honest subject of King George owing no man and fearing no man. Why, very well said, replies the Factor. But if I may make so bold as ask, what does this honest man so far from his country? And why does he come seeking the brother of Ardschild? I have power here, I must tell you. I am King's Factor upon several of these estates and have 12 files of soldiers at my back. I have heard a wave word in the country, said I, a little nettled, that you were a hard man to drive. He still kept looking at me as if in doubt. Well, said he at last, your tongue is bold, but I am no unfriend to plainness. If he had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any other day but this, I would have set you right, and bidden you God's speed. But to-day, a mongo. And he turned again to look at the lawyer. But just as he turned, there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the hill, and with the very sound of it, Glenier fell upon the road. Oh, I'm dead! He cried, several times over. The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant standing over and clasping his hands, and now the wounded man looked from one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice that went to the heart. Take care of yourselves, said he. I'm dead. He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh. His head rolled on his shoulder, and he passed away. The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and as white as the dead man's. The servant broke out into a great noise of crying and weeping, like a child, and I on my side stood staring at them in a kind of horror. The sheriff's officer had run back at the first sound of the shot to hasten the coming of the soldiers. At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses, for he had no sooner done so than I began to scrabble up the hill, crying out, the murderer, the murderer! So little a time had elapsed that when I got to the top of the first steepness and could see some part of the open mountain the murderer was still moving away at no great distance. He was a big man in a black coat, with metal buttons and carried a long falling piece. Here, I cried, I see him! At that the murderer gave a little quick look over his shoulder and began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches, then he came out again on the upper side, where I could see him climbing like a jack-in-apes, for that part was again very steep, and then he dipped behind the shoulder and I saw him no more. All this time I had been running on my side and got a good way up when a voice cried upon me to stand. I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked back, I saw all the open part of the hill below me. The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the road, crying and waving on me to come back, and on their left the red coats, musket in hand, were beginning to struggle singly out of the lower wood. Why should I come back? I cried. Come you on! Ten pounds if you take that lad! cried the lawyer. He's an accomplice! He was posted here to hold us and talk. At that word, which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the soldiers and not to me that he was crying it, my heart came in my mouth with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed it is one thing to stand the danger of your life, and quite another to run the peril of both life and character. The thing besides had come so suddenly, like thunder out of a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run, and others to put up their pieces and cover me, and still I stood. Juck in here among the trees! said a voice close by. Indeed I scarce know what I was doing, but I obeyed, and as I did so I heard the fire-locks bang and the ball's whistle in the birches. Just inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Breck standing with a fishing-rod. He gave me no salutation. And it was no time for civilities, only, come, said he, and set off running along the side of the mountain towards Balakulish, and I, like a sheep, to follow him. Now we ran among the birches, now stooping behind low humps upon the mountain side, now crawling on all fours among the heather. The pace was deadly, my heart seemed bursting against my ribs, and I had neither time to think nor breath to speak with. Only I remember seeing with wonder that Alan every now and then would straighten himself to his full height and look back, and every time he did so there came a great faraway cheering and crying of the soldiers. Quarter of an hour later Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, and turned to me. Now, said he, it's earnest, do as I do, for your life! At that the same speed, but now with infinitely more precaution, we traced back again across the mountain side by the same way that we had come, only perhaps higher, till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of Lettermore, where I had found him at the first, and lay with his face in the bracken panting like a dog. My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth with heat and dryness that I lay beside him like one dead. CHAPTER XVIII I talk with Alan in the wood of Lettermore. Alan was the first to come round. He rose, went to the border of the wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. Well, said he, Yon was a hot-burst, David! I said nothing, nor so much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done, and a great ruddy jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment. The pity of that sight was still sore within me, and yet that was but a part of my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated, here was Alan skulking in the trees and running from the troops, and whether his was the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood guilty in the first degree. I held him in horror, I could not look upon his face, I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle than in that warm wood beside a murderer. Are you still wearied? He asked again. No, said I, still with my face in the bracken. No, I'm not wearied now, and I can speak. You and me must twine, I said. I liked you very well, Alan, but your ways are not mine, and they're not God's, and the short and the long of it is just that we must twine. I will hardly twine from you, David, without some kind of reason for the same, said Alan, mighty gravely. If you can anything against my reputation, it's the least thing that you should do, for old acquaintance's sake, to let me hear the name of it, and if you have only taken a distaste to my society, it will be proper for me to judge if I'm insulted. Alan, said I, what is the sense of this? You can very well, young Campbell man, lies in his blood upon the road. He was silent for a little. Then says he. Did you ever he'll tell of the story of the man and the good people? By which he meant the fairies. No, said I. Nor do I want to hear it. With your permission, Mr. Balfour, I will tell it to you whatever, says Alan. The man you should can was cast upon a rock in the sea, where it appears the good people were in use to come and rest as they went through to Ireland. The name of this rock is called the Scarevore, and it's not far from where we suffered shipwreck. Well, it seems the man cried so sore, if he could just see his little baron before he died. Then at last the king of the good people took pity upon him, and sent one flying that brought back the baron in a poke, and laid it down beside the man where he lay sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a poke beside him and something into the inside of it that moved. Well, it seems he was one of these gentry that think I the worst of things, and for greater security he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before he opened it, and there was his baron dead. I am thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man are very much alike. Do you mean you had no hand in it? cried I, setting up. I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaw's, as one friend to another, said Alan, that if I were going to kill a gentleman it would not be in my own country to bring trouble on my clan, and I would not go wanton sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod upon my back. Well, said I, that's true. And now, continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it in a certain manner, I swear upon the holy iron I had neither art nor part, act nor thought in it. I thank God for that, cried I, and offered him my hand. He did not appear to see it. And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell, said he. They are not so scarce that I can. At least, said I, you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are different. I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted, but to take a life in cold blood, Alan, and I could say no more for the moment. And do you know who did it? I added. Do you know that man in the black coat? I have neclimined about his coat, said Alan cunningly, but it sticks in my head that it was blue. Blue or black, do you know him? Said I. I could not just conscientiously swear to him, says Alan. They get very close by me, to be sure, but it's a strange thing that I should just have been tying my brogues. Can you swear that you don't know him, Alan? I cried half-angered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. Not yet, says he, but I have a grand memory for forgetting, David. And yet there was one thing I saw clearly, said I, and that was that you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers. That's very likely, said Alan, and so would any gentleman. You and me were innocent of that transaction. The better reason, since we were falsely suspected that we should get clear, I cried. The innocent should surely come before the guilty. Why, David, said he, and the innocent have I a chance to get a soiled-in court, but for the lad that shot the bullet, I think the best place for him will be the heather. One that haven't dipped their hands in any little difficulty should be very mindful of the case of them that have. And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round about, on the lad whom I couldn't just clearly see had been in our shoes, and we and his, as might very well have been, I think we would be a good deal obliged to him ourselves if he would draw the soldiers. When it came to this I gave Alan up. But he looked so innocent all the time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. Mr. Henderlin's words came back to me that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wild Highlanders. Well, here I had taken mine. Alan's morals were all tale first, but he was ready to give his life for them, such as they were. Alan, said I, I'll not say it's the good Christianity as I understand it, but it's good enough, and here I offer you my hand for the second time. Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely I had cast a spell upon him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country, he, because he was a deserter, and the whole of Apen would now be searched like a chamber, and every one obliged to give a good account of himself, and I, because I was certainly involved in the murder. Oh, says I, willing to give him a little lesson, I have no fear of the justice of my country. As if this was your country, said he, or as if you would be tried here in a country of stewards. It's all Scotland, said I. Man, I was wonder at ya, said Alan. This is a Campbell that's been killed. Well, it'll be tried in Verrara, the Campbell's head place, with fifteen Campbell's in the jury box, and the biggest Campbell of all, and that's the Duke, sitting cocking on the bench. Justice David, the same justice by all the world as Glenier found while ago at the roadside. This frightened me a little, I confess, and would have frightened me more if I had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions. Indeed it was, but in one point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbell's on the jury, though as the other four were equally in the Duke's dependence it mattered less than might appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who, for all he was a wig, was yet a wise and honest nobleman. Hoot! said Alan. The man's a wig, no doubt, but I would never deny he was a good chief into his clan. And what would the clan think if there was a Campbell's shot, and nobody hanged, and their own chief the Justice General? But I have often observed, said Alan, that you low country bodies have no clear idea of what's right and wrong. At this I did at last laugh out aloud, went to my surprise Alan joined in, and laughed as merrily as myself. Na ha, na ha, said he, we and the Highlands, David, and when I tell you to run, take my word, and run! No doubt it's a hard thing to skulk and starve in the heather, but it's harder yet to lie shackled in a red-coat prison. I asked him whether we should flee, and as he told me, to the lowlands, I was a little better inclined to go with him, for indeed I was growing impatient to get back and have the upper hand of my uncle. Besides Alan made so sure there would be no question of justice in the matter, that I began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths I would truly like least to die by the gallows, and the picture of that uncanny instrument came into my head with extraordinary clearness, as I had once seen it engraved at the top of a peddler's ballad, and took away my appetite for courts of justice. I'll chant, said Alan, said I, I'll go with you. But mind you, said Alan, it's no small thing. Your morn like bear and hard, and broke many an empty belly. Your bed shall be the more cocks, and your life shall be like the haunted deers, and you shall sleep with your hand upon your weapons. I, man, you should tagle many a weary foot, or we get clear. I tell you this at the start, for it's a life that I can well. But if you ask what other chance you have, I answer, none. Either take to the heather with me, or else hang. And that's a choice very easily made, said I, and we shook hands upon it. And now let's take another keek at the red-coats, says Alan, and he led me to the northeastern fringe of the wood. Looking out between the trees we could see a great side of mountain running down exceeding steep into the waters of the lock. It was a rough part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big skroggs of birch wood, and away at the far end towards Balakulish little wee red soldiers were dipping up and down over hill and how, and growing smaller every minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath was left them, but they still stuck to the trail, and doubtless thought that we were close in front of them. Alan watched them smiling to himself. I, said he, they'll be gavery before they've got to the end of that employ. And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we'll strike for O'Karn, the house of my kinsmen, James of the Glens, where I must get my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along, and then, David, we'll cry a fourth fortune, and take a cast among the heather. So we sat again, and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the sun going down into a field of great wild and houseless mountains, such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to O'Karn, each of us narrated his adventures, and I shall here set down so much of Alan's as seems either curious or needful. It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was past, saw me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost, and at last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave those clues and messages which it brought me, for my sins, to that unlucky country of Apen. In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched, and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and caught on some projection of the reef. When she had struck first it had been bows on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest, but now her stern was thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea, and with that the water began to pour into the forescuttle, like the pouring of a mill-dam. It took the color out of Alan's face even to tell what followed. For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks, and these, seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, began to cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one after another into the skiff, and fell to their oars. They were not two hundred yards away when there came a third great sea, and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef, her canvas filled for a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the while, and presently she drew down and down as if a hand were drawing her, and the sea closed over the covenant of Dysart. Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the harrow of that screaming, but they had scarce set foot upon the beach when Hoseason woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. They hung back, indeed, having little taste for the employment, but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and drowning all their comrades, and that here was both revenge and wealth upon a single cast. It was seven against one, in that part of the shore there was no rock that Alan could set his back to, and the sailors began to spread out and come behind him. "'And then,' said Alan, the little man with the red head, I have no mind of the name that he is called.' "'Rioch,' I said. "'I,' said Alan, "'Rioch, well it was him that took up the clubs for me, asked the men if they were in a fear of a judgment, and says he, "'Dod, I'll put my back to the Helen man's myself.' "'There's none such an entirely bad little man, young little man with the red head,' said Alan. "'He has some spunks of decency.' "'Well,' said I, "'he was kind to me in his way.' "'And so was he to Alan,' said he, "'and by my troth I found his way a very good one. But you see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these poor lads set very ill upon the man, and I'm thinking that would be the cause of it.' "'Well, I would think so,' says I, for he was as keen as any of the rest at the beginning. But how did Hoseason take it?' "'It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,' says Alan, but the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, and ran. The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together.' "'What do you mean by that?' said I. "'Well, the fists were going,' said Alan, and I saw one man go down like a pair of breeks, but I thought it would be better not to wait. You see, there's a strip of cambels in that end of mole, which is no good company for a gentleman like me. If it hadn't have been for that, I would have waited and looked for you myself, that alone given a hand to the little man. It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach's stature, for to say the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other. "'So,' says he, continuing, I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any one I cried out there was a wreck of shore. Man, they didn't stop to fasch with me. You should have seen them linking for the beach. And when they got there they found they had the pleasure of a run, which is I good for a camel. I'm thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down in the lump and didn't a break. But it was a very unlucky thing for you, that same, for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted high and low, and would soon have found you.' CHAPTER 19 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. KIDNAPPED By Robert Louis Stevenson CHAPTER XIX THE HOUSE OF FEAR Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the season of the year, extremely dark. The way we went was over rough mountainsides, and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner I could by no means see how he directed himself. At last, about half past ten o'clock, we came to the top of a bray, and saw lights below us. It seemed a house door stood open and led out a beam of fire and candlelight, and all round the house and, steadying, five or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted brand. "'James must have tint his wits,' said Alan. "'If this was the soldiers instead of you and me, he would be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he'll have a sentry on the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers would find the way that we came.' Hereupon he whistled three times in a particular manner. It was strange to see how, at the first sound of it, all the moving torches came to a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted, and how, at the third, the bustle began again as before. Having thus set folks' minds at rest, we came down the bray, and were met at the yard gate, for this place was like a well-doing farm, by a tall, handsome man of more than fifty, who cried out to Alan and the Gaelic. "'James Stuart,' said Alan, "'I will ask you to speak in scotch, for here is a young gentleman with me that has none of the other. This is him,' he added, putting his arm through mine, "'a young gentleman of the Lowlands, and a lad in his country too, but I am thinking that we'll be the better for his health if we give his name the go-by.' James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously enough. The next he had turned to Alan. "'This has been a dreadful accident,' he cried. "'It will be in trouble on the country,' and he wrung his hands. "'Whoots!' said Alan. "'You must take the sour with the sweet man. Colin Roy is dead, and be thankful for that.' "'I,' said James, "'and by my trough I wish he was alive again. It's all very fine to blow him both beforehand, but now it's done, Alan! And who's to bear the weight of it?' The accident fell out in Eppon. Mind you that, Alan! It's Eppon that must pay, and I am a man that has a family.' While this was going on, I looked about me at the servants. Some were on ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm-buildings, from which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of war. Others carried them away, and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere farther down the bray, I suppose they buried them. Though they were all so busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts. Men struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their burning torches, and James was continually turning about from his talk with Alan to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The faces in the torch-like were like those of people overcome with hurry and panic, and though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded both anxious and angry. It was about this time that Alassi came out of the house carrying a pack or bundle, and it has often made me smile to think how Alan's instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. "'What's that that Alassi has?' he asked. "'We're just setting the house in order, Alan,' said James, and his frightened and somewhat fawning way. "'They'll search up and with candles, and we must have all things straight. We'll dig in the bit-guns and swords into the Moscha Sea, and these I am thinking will be your unfrench clothes. We'll be to bury them, I believe.' "'Bury my French clothes!' cried Alan. "'Troth, no!' he laid hold upon the packet, and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in the meanwhile to his kinsmen. James carried me accordingly into the kitchen and sat down with me at table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But presently the gloom returned upon him. He sat frowning and biting his fingers. Only remembered me from time to time, and then gave me but a word or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors. His wife sat by the fire and wept, with her face in her hands. Her eldest son was crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of papers and now and again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end. All the while a servant last with a red face was rummaging about the room in a blind hurry of fear and whimpering as she went, and every now and again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard and cry for orders. At last James could keep his seat no longer and beg my permission to be so unmanorly as to walk about. "'I am but poor company altogether, sir,' says he. "'But I can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the trouble it is like to bring upon quite innocent persons.' A little after he observed his son burning a paper which he thought should have been kept, and at that his excitement burst out so that it was painful to witness. He struck the lad repeatedly. "'Are you gone, gait?' he cried. "'Do you wish to hang your father?' And forgetful of my presence carried on at him a long time together in the Gaelic, the young man answering nothing. Only the wife, at the name of Hanging, throwing her apron over her face and sobbing out louder than before. This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to hear and see, and I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like himself in his fine French clothes, though to be sure they were now grown almost too battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then taken out in my turn by another of the sons, and given that change of clothing of which I had stood so long in need, and a pair of Highland Brogues made of deer leather, rather strange at first, but after a little practice very easy to defeat. By the time I came back Alan must have told his story, for it seemed understood that I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our equipment. They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my inability to use the former, and with these and some ammunition a bag of oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of bright French brandy, we were ready for the heather. Money indeed was lacking. I had about two guineas left. Alan's belt having been dispatched by another hand, that trusty messenger had no more than seventeen pence to his whole fortune, and as for James it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys to Edinburgh and legal expenses on behalf of the tenants, that he could only scrape together three and five pence half-penny, the most of it in coppers. "'This'll no do,' said Alan. "'You must find a safe bit somewhere nearby,' said James, and get word sent to me. "'You see, you'll have to get this business prettily off, Alan. This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or two. They're sure to get wind of you, sure to seek you, and by my way of it, sure to lay on you the white of this day's accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that I'm your near kinsman, and harbored you while you were in the country, and if it comes on me,' he paused and bit his fingers with a white face. "'It would be a painful thing for our friends if I was to hang,' said he. "'It would be an ill day for Apen,' says Alan. "'It's a day that sticks in my throat,' said James. "'Oh, man, man, man, man, Alan, you and me have spoken like two fools!' He cried, striking his hand upon the wall so that the house rang again. "'Well, and that's true, too,' said Alan. And my friend from the lowlands here, nodding at me, gave me a good word upon that head if I would have only listened to him. "'But see here,' said James, returning to his former manner, if they lay me by the heels, Alan, it's then that you'll be needed in the money, for with all that I have said and that you have said, it will look very black against the two of us. Do you mark that?' "'Well, follow me out, and you'll—' "'I'll see that I'll have to get a paper out against you myself. Have to offer a reward for you. I will I. It's a sore thing to do between such near friends, but if I get the dirtome of this dreadful accident I'll have to fend for myself, man. Do you see that?' He spoke with a pleading earnestness, taking Alan by the breast of the coat. "'I,' said Alan, I see that. "'And you'll have to be clear of the country, Alan. I ain't clear of Scotland. You and your friend from the lowlands, too, for I'll have to paper your friend from the lowlands. You see that, Alan? Say that you see that.' I thought Alan flushed a bit. "'This is Uncle Hard on me that brought him here, James,' said he, throwing his head back. "'It's like making me a traitor.' "'No, Alan, man,' cried James. "'Look things in the face. He'll be papered anyway. Mungo Campbell will be sure to paper him. What matters if I paper him, too? And then, Alan, I'm a man that has a family.' And then, after a little pause on both sides, "'And, Alan, it'll be a jury of Campbell's,' said he. "'There's one thing,' said Alan musingly, that nobody can's his name. "'Nor yet they shall know, Alan. There's my hand on that.' Cried James, for all the world as if he had really known my name and was forgoing some advantage. But just the habit he was in and what he looked like, and his age and the like, I couldn't well do less.' "'I wonder at your father's son,' cried Alan sternly. "'Would you sell the lad with a gift? Would you change his clothes and then betray him?' "'No, no, Alan,' said James. "'No, no, the habit he took off, the habit Mungo saw him in.' But I thought he seemed crestfallen, indeed. He was clutching at every straw. And all the time, I daresay, saw the faces of his hereditary foes on the bench and in the jury-box and the gallows in the background. "'Well, sir,' says Alan, turning to me. "'What say you to that? You're here under the safeguard of my honour, and it's my part to see nothing done but what shall please you.' "'I have but one word to say,' said I, for to all this dispute I am a perfect stranger. But the plain common sense is to set the blame where it belongs, and that is on the man who fired the shot. Paper him, as you call it, set the hand on him, and let honest innocent folk show their faces in safety.' And at this both Alan and James cried out in horror, bidding me hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of, and asking me what the Camerons would think, which confirm me it must have been a Cameron from a Moor that did the act. And if I did not see that the lad might be caught, you have not surely thought of that,' said they, with such innocent earnestness that my hands dropped at my side and I despaired of argument. "'Very well, then,' said I. "'Paper me, if you please. Paper Alan, Paper King George! We're all three innocent, and that seems to be what's wanted.' "'But at least, sir,' said I, to James, recovering from my little fit of annoyance. I am Alan's friend, and if I can be helpful to friends of his, I will not stumble at the risk.' I thought it best to put a fair face on my consent, for I saw Alan troubled, and besides, thanks I to myself, as soon as my back is turned they will paper me, as they call it, whether I consent or not. But in this I saw I was wrong, for I had no sooner said the words that Mrs. Stewart leaped out of her chair, came running over to us, and wept first upon my neck, and then on Alan's, blessing God for our goodness to her family. "'As for you, Alan, it was no more than your bounden duty,' she said. "'But for this lad that has come here, and seen us at our worst, and seen the good man fleaching like a suitor, him that by right should give his commands like any king, as for you, my lad,' she says. "'My heart is when not to have your name, but I have your face, and as long as my heart beats under my bosom I will keep it, and think of it, and bless it.' And with that she kissed me, and burst once more into such sobbing that I stood abashed. "'Hoot, hoot,' said Alan, looking mighty silly, the day comes uncle soon in this month of July, and to-morrow there'll be a fine to-do and happen, a fine writing of dragoons, and crying of crockhan, and running of red coats, and it behooves you and me to the sooner be gone.' Thereupon we said farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat eastwards in a fine mild dark night, and over much the same broken country as before. CHAPTER 20 THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER, THE ROCKS Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran, and as it drew on to morning walked ever the less and ran the more. Though upon its face that country appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, of which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in quiet places of the hills. When we came to one of these Alan would leave me in the way, and go himself and wrap upon the side of the house, and speak a while at the window with some sleeper awakened. This was to pass the news, which in that country was so much of a duty that Alan must pause to attend to it even while fleeing for his life, and so well attended to by others that in more than half of the houses where we called they had already heard of the murder. In the others, as well as I could make out, standing back at a distance and hearing a strange tongue, the news was received with more consternation than surprise. After all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks, and where ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it. There grew there near the grass nor trees, and I have sometimes thought since then that it may have been the valley called Glynco, where the masquer was in the time of King William. But for the details of our itinerary I am all to seek, our way lying now by shortcuts, now by great detours, our pace being so hurried, our time of journeying usually by night, and the names of such places as I asked and heard being in the Gaelic tongue in the more easily forgotten. The first peep of morning then showed us this horrible place, and I could see Alan knit his brow. This is no fit place for you and me, he said. This is the place they're bound to watch. And with that he ran harder than ever down to the water side, in a part where the river was split in two among three rocks. It went through with a horrid thundering that made my belly quake, and there hung over the Linn a little mist of spray. Alan looked neither to the right nor to the left, but jumped clean upon the middle rock, and fell there on his hands and knees to check himself, for that rock was small and he might have pitched over on the far side. I had scarce time to measure the distance or to understand the peril before I had followed him, and he had caught and stopped me. So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides. When I saw where I was there came on me a deadly sickness of fear, and I put my hand over my eyes. Alan took me and shook me. I saw he was speaking, but the roaring of the falls and the trouble of my mind prevented me from hearing. Only I saw his face was red with anger, and that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed me the water raging by, and the mist hanging in the air, and with that I covered my eyes again and shuddered. The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to my lips and forced me to drink about a gill which sent the blood into my head again. Alan putting his hands to his mouth and his mouth to my ear he shouted, Hang or drown! And turning his back upon me, leaped over the father branch of the stream, and landed safe. I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the more room, the brandy was singing in my ears, I had this good example fresh before me, and just wit enough to see that if I did not leap at once I should never leap at all. I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth with that kind of anger of despair that has sometimes stood me instead of courage. Sure enough it was but my hands that reached the full length. These slipped, caught again, slipped again, and I was slittering back into the linn when Alan seized me, first by the hair, then by the collar, and with a great strain dragged me into safety. For a word he said, but set off running again for his life, and I must stagger to my feet and run after him. I had been weary before, but now I was sick and bruised and partly drunken with the brandy. I kept stumbling as I ran, I had a stitch that came near to overmaster me, and when at last Alan paused under a great rock that stood there among a number of others, it was none too soon for David Balfour. A great rock I have said, but by rights it was two rocks leading together at the top, both some twenty feet high, and at the first site inaccessible. Even Alan, though you may say he had as good as four hands, failed twice in an attempt to climb them, and it was only at the third trial and then by standing on my shoulders and leaping up with such force as I thought must have broken my collarbone that he secured a lodgement. Once there he let down his leathering girdle, and with the aid of that and a pair of shallow footholds in the rock I scrambled up beside him. Then I saw why we had come there, for the two rocks, being both somewhat hollow at the top and sloping one to the other, made a kind of dish or saucer, where as many as three or four men might have lain hidden. All this while Alan had not said a word, and had run and climbed with such a savage, silent frenzy of hurry that I knew that he was in mortal fear of some miscarriage. Even now we were on the rock he said nothing, nor so much as relaxed the frowning look upon his face, but clapped flat down and keeping only one eye above the edge of our place of shelter, scouted all round the compass. The dawn had come quite clear. We could see the stony sides of the valley and its bottom which were bestrewed with rocks, and the river which went from one side to another and made white falls, but nowhere the smoke of a house nor any living creature but some eagles screaming round a cliff. Then at last Alan smiled. I said he, now we have a chance, and then looking at me with some amusement. You know very gleg at the jumping, said he. At this I suppose I collared with mortification, for he added it once. Oots! Small blame to you! To be feared of a thing and yet to do it is what makes the prettiest kind of a man. And then there was water there, and water's a thing that don't ensieve in me. No, no, said Alan, is no you that's to blame, it's me. I asked him why. Why, said he, I have proved myself agomeral this night, for first of all I take a wrong road, and that of my own country of apen, so that the day has caught us where we should never have been, and thanks to that we lie here in some danger and mad discomfort. And next, which is the worst of the two, for a man that has been so much among the heather as myself, I have come wanting a water-bottle, and here we lie for a long summer's day with nothing but neat spirit. You may think that a small matter, but before comes night, David, you give me news of it. I was anxious to redeem my character and offered if he would pour out the brandy to run down and fill the bottle at the river. It would not waste a good spirit, either, says he, it's been a good friend to you this night, or in my poor opinion you would still be cocking on young stone. And what's more, says he, you may have observed, you that's a matter so much penetration, that Alan Breck Stewart was perhaps walking quicker than his ordinary. You, I cried, you were running fit to burst. Heh, was I so, says he, well then you may depend upon it, there was no time to be lost, and now here is enough said, gang you to your sleep-lad and I'll watch. Accordingly I lay down to sleep, a little peaty earth had drifted dim between the top of the two rocks, and some bracken grew there to be a bed to me. The last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles. I daresay it would be nine in the morning when I was roughly awakened and found Alan's hand pressed upon my mouth. Whish! He whispered. He was snoring. Well, said I, surprised at his anxious and dark face. And why not? He peered over the edge of the rock and signed me to do the like. It was now high day, cloudless and very hot. The valley was as clear as in a picture. About half a mile up the water was a camp of redcoats, a big fire blazed in their midst at which some were cooking, and nearby, on the top of a rock about as high as ours, there stood a sentry with a sun sparkling on his arms. All the way down along the riverside were posted other sentries. Near near together, there widely or scattered, some planted like the first on places of command, some on the ground level and marching and counter-marching, so as to meet half way. Higher up the glen where the ground was more open, the chain of post was continued by horse-soldiers, whom we could see in the distance riding to and fro. Lower down, the infantry continued, but as the stream was suddenly swelled by the confluence of a considerable burn they were more widely set and only watched the fords and stepping-stones. I took but one look at them and ducked again into my place. It was strange indeed to see this valley which had lain so solitary in the hour of dawn, bristling with arms and dotted with the red coats and breeches. "'You see,' said Alan, this was what I was afraid of, Davy, that they would watch the burn side. They began to come in about two hours ago, and, man, you're a grand-hand at the sleeping. We're in a narrow place. If they get up the sides of the hill they could easy spy us with a glass, but if they'll only keep in the foot of the valley, we'll do yet. The posts are thinner down the water, and come night we'll try our hand at kitten by them. "'And what are we to do till night?' I asked. "'Lie here,' says he, and Bursal.' That one good scotch word, Bursal, was indeed the most of the story of the day that we had now to pass. You are to remember that we lay on the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle. The sun beat upon us cruelly, the rock grew so heated a man could scarce endure the touch of it, and the little patch of earth and fern, which kept cooler, was only large enough for one at a time. We took turn about to lie on the naked rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred on a gridiron, and it ran in my mind how strange it was that in the same climate, and at only a few days' distance, I should have suffered so cruelly, first from cold upon my island, and now from heat upon this rock. All the while we had no water, only raw brandy for a drink, which was worse than nothing, but we kept the bottle as cool as we could, burying it in the earth, and got some relief by bathing our breasts and temples. The soldiers kept stirring all day in the bottom of the valley, now changing guard, now in patrolling parties hunting among the rocks. These lay around in so great a number that to look for men among them was like looking for a needle in a bottle of hay, and being so hopeless a task, it was gone about with the less care. Yet we could see the soldiers poked their bayonets among the heather, which set a cold thrill into my vitals, and it would sometimes hang about our rock, so that we scarce dared to breathe. It was in this way that I first heard the right English speech, one fellow as he went by actually clapping his hand upon the sunny face of the rock on which we lay, and plucking it off again with an oath. I tell you it's ought, says he, and I was amazed at the clipping tones and the odd sing-song in which he spoke, and no less at that strange trick of dropping out the letter H. To be sure I had heard ransom, but he had taken his ways from all sorts of people, and spoke so imperfectly at the best, that I set down the most of it to childishness. My surprise was all the greater to hear that manner of speaking in the mouth of a grown man, and indeed I have never grown used to it, nor yet altogether with the English grammar, as perhaps a very critical eye might hear in there spy out even in these memoirs. The tediousness and pain of these hours upon the rock grew only the greater as the day went on, the rock getting still the hotter and the sun fiercer. There were giddiness and sickness and sharp pangs like rheumatism to be supported. I minded then, and have often minded since, on the lines in our scotch psalm, The moon by night thee shall not smite, nor yet the sun by day. And indeed it was only by God's blessing that we were neither of us sun-smitten. At last, about two, it was beyond men's bearing, and there was now temptation to resist, as well as pain to thaw. For the sun-being now got a little into the west there came a patch of shade on the east side of our rock, which was the side sheltered from the soldiers. As well one death as another, said Alan, and slipped over the edge and dropped on the ground on the shadowy side. I followed him at once, and instantly fell all my length, so weak was I, and so giddy with that long exposure. Here then we lay for an hour or two, aching from head to foot, as weak as water, and lying quite naked to the eye of any soldier who should have strolled that way. None came, however, all passing by on the other side, so that our rock continued to be our shield, even in this new position. Presently we began again to get a little strength, and as the soldiers were now lying closer along the river-side, Alan proposed that we should try a start. I was by this time afraid of but one thing in the world, and that was to be set back upon the rock. Anything else was welcome to me, so we got ourselves at once in marching order, and began to slip from rock to rock one after the other, now crawling flat on our bellies in the shade, now making a run for it heart and mouth. The soldiers, having searched this side of the valley after a fashion, and being perhaps somewhat sleepy with the sultriness of the afternoon, had now laid by much of their vigilance and stood dozing at their posts, or only kept a look out along the banks of the river, so that in this way, keeping down the valley and at the same time towards the mountains, we drew steadily away from their neighborhood. But the business was the most wearing I have ever taken part in. A man had need of a hundred eyes in every part of him to keep concealed in that uneven country and within cry of so many and scattered centuries. When we must pass an open place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment not only of the lie of the whole country, but of the solidity of every stone on which we must set foot. For the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol-shot, and would start the echo calling among the hills and cliffs. By sundown we had made some distance, even by our slow rate of progress, though to be sure the sentry on the rock was still plainly in our view. But now we came on something that put all fears out of season, and that was a deep rushing burn that tore down in that part to join the Glen River. At the sight of this we cast ourselves on the ground and plunged head and shoulders in the water, and I cannot tell which was the more pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over us, or the greed with which we drank of it. We lay there, for the banks hit us, drank again and again, bathed our chests, let our wrists trail in the running water till they ached with the chill, and at last, being wonderfully renewed, we got out the meal-bag and make drum-eck in the iron pan. This though it is but cold water mingled with oatmeal, yet makes a good enough dish for a hungry man, and whether there are no means of making fire, or, as in our case, good reason for not making one. It is the chief standby of those who have taken to the heather. As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen we set forth again, at first with the same caution, but presently with more boldness, standing our full height and stepping out at a good pace of walking. The way was very intricate, lying up the steep sides of mountains and along the brows of cliffs. Clouds had come in with the sunset and the night was dark and cool, so that I walked without much fatigue, but in continual fear of falling and rolling down the mountains, and with no gas at our direction. The moon rose at last and found us still on the road, it was in its last quarter, and was long beset with clouds, but after a while shone out and showed me many dark heads of mountains, and was reflected far underneath us on the narrow arm of a sea-lock. At this site we both paused. I struck with wonder to find myself so high, and walking, as it seemed to me, upon clouds, allened to make sure of his direction. Samingly he was well pleased, and he must certainly have judged us out of earshot of all our enemies, for throughout the rest of our night-march he beguiled the way with whistling of many tunes, war-like, merry, plaintive, real tunes that made the foot go faster, tunes of my own South Country that made me feign to be home from my adventures, and all these on the great, dark, desert mountains making company upon the way. CHAPTER XXI OF KIDNAPPED CHAPTER XXI. THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER. THE HUGE OF CORINACI. Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave and a rock. Things grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which if little farther on was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout, the wood of kushet doves. On the open side of the mountain beyond, whalps would be always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of memoir, and on the sea-lock that divides that country from appen, and this from so great a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold them. The name of the cleft was the Hugh of Corinacich, and although from its height and being so near upon the sea it was often beset with clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we lived in it went happily. We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather-bushes which we cut for that purpose, and covering ourselves with Alan's great coat. There was a low concealed place, in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as to make fire, so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with our hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the burn. This was indeed our chief pleasure in business, and not only to save our meal against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us we spent a great part of our days at the water-side, stripped to the waist and groping about, or, as they say, guddling for these fish. The largest we got might have been a quarter of a pound, but they were of good flesh and flavor, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt to be delicious. In any by-time Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance had much distressed him, and I think besides, as I had sometimes the upper hand of him in the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an exercise where he had so much the upper hand of me. He made it somewhat more of a pain than need have been, for he stormed at me all through the lessons in a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close that I made sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of my lessons, if it was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, which is often all that is required. So, though I could never in the least please my master, I was not all together displeased with myself. In the meantime you are not to suppose that we neglected our chief business, which was to get away. It will be many a long day, Alan said to me in our first morning, before the redcoats think upon seeking koinachik, so now we must get words sent to James, and he must find the Siller for us. And how shall we send that word, says I? We are here in a desert place which yet we dare not leave, and unless you get the fowls of the air to be your messengers I see not what we shall be able to do. I, said Alan, you are a man of small contravance, David. Thereupon he fell in amuse, looking in the embers of the fire, presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little shyly. Could you lend me my button, says he. It seems a strange thing to ask a gift again, but I own I am late to cut another. I gave him the button, whereupon he strung it on a strip of his grape-coat which he had used to bind the cross, and tying in a little sprig of birch and another of fir, he looked upon his work with satisfaction. Now, said he, there is a little clacken, what is called a hamlet in the English, not very far from Korinachich, and it has the name of Colisna Cohen. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. You see, David, there will be money set upon our heads. Seems himself it to set money on them, and as for the Campbells, they would never spare Siller where there was a steward to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go down to Colisna Cohen, whatever, and trust my life into these people's hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove. "'But being so,' said I, "'being so,' said he, I would his leaf they did not see me. There's bad folk everywhere. And what's far worse, weak ones. So when it comes dark again, I will steal down into that clacken, and set this that I have been making in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck McCall, a boomer of appends. With all my heart, says I, and if he finds it, what is he to think? "'Well,' says Allen, I wish he was a man of more penetration, or by my troth I'm afraid he will make little enough of it. But this is what I have in mind. This cross is something in the nature of the cross tarry, or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our clans, yet he will know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So he will say to himself, the clan is not to rise, but there is something. Then he will see my button, and that was Duncan Stewart's. And then he will say to himself, the son of Duncan is in the heather, and has need of me.' "'Well,' said I, it may be, but even supposing so there is a good deal of heather between here and the forth.' "'And that is a very true word,' says Allen. But then John Breck will see the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine, and he will say to himself, if he is a man of any penetration at all, which I missed out, Allen would be lying in a wood which is both of pines and birches. Then he will think to himself, that is not so very right here about. And then he will come and give us a look up in Korynaki. And if he does not, David, the devil may fly away with him for what I care, for he will be no worth the salt to his porridge.' "'A man,' said I, drolling with him a little. You are very ingenious, but would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black and white?' "'And that is an excellent observe, Mr. Balfour of Shaw's,' said Allen, drolling with me. And it would certainly be much simpler for me to write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He would have to go to the school for two, three years, and it's possible we might be wearied waiting on him.' So that night Allen carried down his fiery cross and set it in the bowman's window. He was troubled when he came back, for the dogs had barked, and the folk run out from their houses, and he thought he had heard a clatter of arms and seen a redcoat come to one of the doors. On all accounts we lay the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a close look out, so that if it was John Breck that came we might be ready to guide him, and if it was the redcoats we should have time to get away. About noon a man was to be spied, straggling up the open side of the mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came from under his hand. No sooner had Allen seen him than he whistled. The man turned and came a little towards us. Then Allen would give another, peep, and the man would come still nearer, and so by the sound of whistling he was guided to the spot where we lay. He was a ragged, wild, bearded man, about forty, grossly disfigured with the smallpox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English was very bad and broken, yet Allen, according to his very handsome use, whenever I was by, would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the strange language made him appear more backward than he really was, but I thought he had little goodwill to serve us, and what he had was the child of terror. Allen would have had him carry a message to James, but the bowman would hear of no message. She was, forget it! He said in his screaming voice, and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. I thought Allen would be graveled at that, for we lacked the means of writing in that desert. But he was a man of more resources than I knew. Searched the wood until he found the quill of a kushet dove, which he shaped into a pen, made himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the running stream, and tearing a corner from his French military commission, which he carried in his pocket like a talisman to keep him from the gallows, he sat down and wrote his follows, Dear kinsmen, please send the money by the bearer to the place he kends of, your affectionate cousin, A.S. This he entrusted to the bowman who promised to make what manner of speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third we heard a whistling in the wood, which Allen answered, and presently the bowman came up the water side looking for us right and left. He seemed less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have got to the end of such a dangerous commission. He gave us the news of the country, that it was alive with redcoats, that arms were being found, and poor folk brought in trouble daily, and that James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at Fort William under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was noised on all sides that Allen Breck had fired the shot, and there was a bill issued for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. This was all as bad as could be, and the little note the bowman had carried us from Mrs. Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it she besought Allen not to let himself be captured, assuring him if he fell in the hands of the troops both he and James were no better than dead men. The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, and she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel of an enemy's gun, to judge if it be truly aimed. Allen was advertised as a small, pock-marked, active man of thirty-five or thereby, dressed in a feathered hat, a French side coat of blue with silver buttons, and lace a great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black shag, and I, as a tall strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun waistcoat, blue breeches, his legs bare, low country shoes wanting the toes, speaks like a lowlander and has no beard. Allen was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered, and set down, only when he came to the word tarnish he looked upon his lace like one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure in the bill, and yet was well enough pleased, too, for since I had changed these rags the description had ceased to be a danger and became a source of safety. Allen, said I, you should change your clothes. Natroff, said Allen, I had no others, a fine sight I would be if I went back to France and upon it. This put a second reflection in my mind, that if I were to separate from Allen and his tell-tale clothes I should be safe against arrest, and might go openly about my business. Nor was this all, for suppose I was arrested when I was alone, there was little against me, but suppose I was taken in company with a reputed murderer my case would begin to be grave. For generosity's sake I dare not speak my mind upon this head, but I thought of it none the less. I thought of it all the more, too, when the Bowman brought out a green purse with four guineas and gold and the best part of another in small change. True it was more than I had, but then Allen, with less than five guineas, had to get as far as France, I with my less than two, not beyond Queensferry, so that taking things in their proportion, Allen's society was not only apparel to my life, but a burden on my purse. But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. He believed he was serving, helping, and protecting me. And what could I do but hold my peace, and chafe, and take my chance of it? It's little enough, said Allen, putting the purse in his pocket. But it'll do my business, and now, John Breck, if you'll hand me over my button this gentleman and me will be for taking the road. But the Bowman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front of him in the Highland Manor, though he wore otherwise the lowland habit, with sea trousers, began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last said, �Hernanso will loss it!� meaning he thought he had lost it. �What!� cried Allen, �you will lose my button that was my father's before me? Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck. It is in my mind this is the worst day's work that ever you did since you was born.� And as Allen spoke, he set his hands on his knees, and looked at the Bowman with a smiling mouth, and that dancing light in his eyes that meant mischief to his enemies. Perhaps the Bowman was honest enough. Perhaps he had meant to cheat, and then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back to honesty as being safer, at least, and all at once, he seemed to find that button and handed it to Allen. �Well, and it is a good thing for the honour of the Macauls!� said Allen, �and then to me. Here is my button back again, and I thank you for parting with it, which is of a peace with all your friendships to me.� Then he took the warmest parting of the Bowman. �For,� says he, �you have done very well by me, add sex your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the name of a good man.�