Catriona [8]
all the three of us. When that's done, I'll give you the direction of a very decent man, that'll be very fain to have you for a lodger. And I'll fill your pockets to ye, forbye, out of your ain bag. For this business'll not be near as dear as ye suppose - not even the ship part of it."
I made him a sign that his clerk was within hearing.
"Hoot, ye neednae mind for Robbie," cries he. "A Stewart, too, puir deevil! and has smuggled out more French recruits and trafficking Papists than what he has hairs upon his face. Why, it's Robin that manages that branch of my affairs. Who will we have now, Rob, for across the water!"
"There'll be Andie Scougal, in the THRISTLE," replied Rob. "I saw Hoseason the other day, but it seems he's wanting the ship. Then there'll be Tam Stobo; but I'm none so sure of Tam. I've seen him colloguing with some gey queer acquaintances; and if was anybody important, I would give Tam the go-by."
"The head's worth two hundred pounds, Robin," said Stewart.
"Gosh, that'll no be Alan Breck!" cried the clerk.
"Just Alan," said his master.
"Weary winds! that's sayrious," cried Robin. "I'll try Andie, then; Andie'll be the best."
"It seems it's quite a big business," I observed.
"Mr. Balfour, there's no end to it," said Stewart.
"There was a name your clerk mentioned," I went on: "Hoseason. That must be my man, I think: Hoseason, of the brig COVENANT. Would you set your trust on him?"
"He didnae behave very well to you and Alan," said Mr. Stewart; "but my mind of the man in general is rather otherwise. If he had taken Alan on board his ship on an agreement, it's my notion he would have proved a just dealer. How say ye, Rob?"
"No more honest skipper in the trade than Eli," said the clerk. "I would lippen to Eli's word - ay, if it was the Chevalier, or Appin himsel'," he added.
"And it was him that brought the doctor, wasnae't?" asked the master.
"He was the very man," said the clerk.
"And I think he took the doctor back?" says Stewart.
"Ay, with his sporran full!" cried Robin. "And Eli kent of that!"
"Well, it seems it's hard to ken folk rightly," said I.
"That was just what I forgot when ye came in, Mr. Balfour!" says the Writer.
CHAPTER III - I GO TO PILRIG
THE next morning, I was no sooner awake in my new lodging than I was up and into my new clothes; and no sooner the breakfast swallowed, than I was forth on my adventurers. Alan, I could hope, was fended for; James was like to be a more difficult affair, and I could not but think that enterprise might cost me dear, even as everybody said to whom I had opened my opinion. It seemed I was come to the top of the mountain only to cast myself down; that I had clambered up, through so many and hard trials, to be rich, to be recognised, to wear city clothes and a sword to my side, all to commit mere suicide at the last end of it, and the worst kind of suicide, besides, which is to get hanged at the King's charges.
What was I doing it for? I asked, as I went down the high Street and out north by Leith Wynd. First I said it was to save James Stewart; and no doubt the memory of his distress, and his wife's cries, and a word or so I had let drop on that occasion worked upon me strongly. At the same time I reflected that it was (or ought to be) the most indifferent matter to my father's son, whether James died in his bed or from a scaffold. He was Alan's cousin, to be sure; but so far as regarded Alan, the best thing would be to lie low, and let the King, and his Grace of Argyll, and the corbie crows, pick the bones of his kinsman their own way. Nor could I forget that, while we were all in the pot together, James had shown no such particular anxiety whether for Alan or me.
Next it came upon me I was acting for the sake of justice: and I thought that a fine word, and reasoned it out that (since we dwelt in polities, at some discomfort to each one of us) the main thing of all must still be justice, and the death of any innocent
I made him a sign that his clerk was within hearing.
"Hoot, ye neednae mind for Robbie," cries he. "A Stewart, too, puir deevil! and has smuggled out more French recruits and trafficking Papists than what he has hairs upon his face. Why, it's Robin that manages that branch of my affairs. Who will we have now, Rob, for across the water!"
"There'll be Andie Scougal, in the THRISTLE," replied Rob. "I saw Hoseason the other day, but it seems he's wanting the ship. Then there'll be Tam Stobo; but I'm none so sure of Tam. I've seen him colloguing with some gey queer acquaintances; and if was anybody important, I would give Tam the go-by."
"The head's worth two hundred pounds, Robin," said Stewart.
"Gosh, that'll no be Alan Breck!" cried the clerk.
"Just Alan," said his master.
"Weary winds! that's sayrious," cried Robin. "I'll try Andie, then; Andie'll be the best."
"It seems it's quite a big business," I observed.
"Mr. Balfour, there's no end to it," said Stewart.
"There was a name your clerk mentioned," I went on: "Hoseason. That must be my man, I think: Hoseason, of the brig COVENANT. Would you set your trust on him?"
"He didnae behave very well to you and Alan," said Mr. Stewart; "but my mind of the man in general is rather otherwise. If he had taken Alan on board his ship on an agreement, it's my notion he would have proved a just dealer. How say ye, Rob?"
"No more honest skipper in the trade than Eli," said the clerk. "I would lippen to Eli's word - ay, if it was the Chevalier, or Appin himsel'," he added.
"And it was him that brought the doctor, wasnae't?" asked the master.
"He was the very man," said the clerk.
"And I think he took the doctor back?" says Stewart.
"Ay, with his sporran full!" cried Robin. "And Eli kent of that!"
"Well, it seems it's hard to ken folk rightly," said I.
"That was just what I forgot when ye came in, Mr. Balfour!" says the Writer.
CHAPTER III - I GO TO PILRIG
THE next morning, I was no sooner awake in my new lodging than I was up and into my new clothes; and no sooner the breakfast swallowed, than I was forth on my adventurers. Alan, I could hope, was fended for; James was like to be a more difficult affair, and I could not but think that enterprise might cost me dear, even as everybody said to whom I had opened my opinion. It seemed I was come to the top of the mountain only to cast myself down; that I had clambered up, through so many and hard trials, to be rich, to be recognised, to wear city clothes and a sword to my side, all to commit mere suicide at the last end of it, and the worst kind of suicide, besides, which is to get hanged at the King's charges.
What was I doing it for? I asked, as I went down the high Street and out north by Leith Wynd. First I said it was to save James Stewart; and no doubt the memory of his distress, and his wife's cries, and a word or so I had let drop on that occasion worked upon me strongly. At the same time I reflected that it was (or ought to be) the most indifferent matter to my father's son, whether James died in his bed or from a scaffold. He was Alan's cousin, to be sure; but so far as regarded Alan, the best thing would be to lie low, and let the King, and his Grace of Argyll, and the corbie crows, pick the bones of his kinsman their own way. Nor could I forget that, while we were all in the pot together, James had shown no such particular anxiety whether for Alan or me.
Next it came upon me I was acting for the sake of justice: and I thought that a fine word, and reasoned it out that (since we dwelt in polities, at some discomfort to each one of us) the main thing of all must still be justice, and the death of any innocent