but never from his bottle."

We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself
most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the
silver buttons from his coat.

"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye
one of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And wherever ye go
and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you."

He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and
indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling
at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I
would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed.

As soon as we were through with our meal, he rummaged in the captain's
locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then, taking off his coat,
began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and
labour as I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, he
had no other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king, and so
behoved to be royally looked after.

For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads
where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift.

He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck,
asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on
the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in
fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He
came to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so
that his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each other
a while in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very
forward in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow
upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been
all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded.

"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head.

"It was none of our choosing," said I.

"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. They
might speak at the window."

"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I.

"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll tell ye
the honest truth, we couldna get the men to follow."

"Is that so?" said I.

"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; it's me.
I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me.