swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain French clothes. We’ll be to bury them, I believe.”

“Bury my French clothes!” cried Alan. “Troth, no!” And he laid hold upon the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in the meanwhile to his kinsman.

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; his 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 lass 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 begged my permission to be so unmannerly as 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 gyte?”2

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 the feet.

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 right French brandy, we were ready for the heather. Money, indeed, was lacking. I had about two guineas left; Alan’s belt having been despatched 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-halfpenny, the most of it in coppers.

“This’ll no do,” said Alan.

“Ye must find a safe bit somewhere near by,” said James, “and get word sent to me. Ye see, ye’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 ye, sure to seek ye, and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the wyte of this day’s accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me that am your near kinsman and harboured ye while ye 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 Appin,” says Alan.

“It’s a day that sticks in my throat,” said James. “O 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.


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