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This moderation put it in my mind to question him of the Red Fox and the Appin tenants; questions which, I thought, would seem natural enough in the mouth of one travelling to that country. He said it was a bad business. Its wonderful, said he, where the tenants find the money, for their life is mere starvation. (Ye dont carry such a thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No. Well, Im better wanting it.) But these tenants (as I was saying) are doubtless partly driven to it. James Stewart in Duror (thats him they call James of the Glens) is half-brother to Ardshiel, the captain of the clan; and he is a man much looked up to, and drives very hard. And then theres one they call Alan Breck Ah! I cried, what of him? What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth? said Henderland. Hes here and awa; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He might be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldnae wonder! Yell no carry such a thing as snuff, will ye? I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once. Its highly possible, said he, sighing. But it seems strange ye shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, desperate customer, and well kent to be Jamess right hand. His life is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame. You make a poor story of it all, Mr. Henderland, said I. If it is all fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it. Na, said Mr. Henderland, but theres love too, and self-denial that should put the like of you and me to shame. Theres something fine about it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I hear, is a chield to be respected. Theres many a lying sneck-draw sits close in kirk in our own part of the country, and stands well in the worlds eye, and maybe is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour, than yon misguided shedder of mans blood. Ay, ay, we might take a lesson by them.Yell perhaps think Ive been too long in the Hielands? 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. Ay, said he, thats true. Its a fine blood. And what is the Kings agent about? I asked. Colin Campbell? says Henderland. Putting his head in a bees byke! He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear? said I. Yes, says he, but the business has gone back and forth, as folk say. First, James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh, and got some lawyer (a Stewart, nae doubtthey all hing together like bats in a steeple) and had the proceedings stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam 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 to-morrow. Its to begin at Duror under Jamess very windows, which doesnae seem wise by my humble way of it. Do you think theyll fight? I asked. Well, says Henderland, theyre disarmedor supposed to befor theres still a good deal of cold iron lying by in quiet places. And then Colin Campbell has the sogers coming. But for all that, if I was his lady wife, I wouldnae be well pleased till I got him home again. Theyre queer customers, the Appin Stewarts. |
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