John? It came to my ears somehow that he was travelling
abroad; is that so, my lord? Some one told me also that you had a
letter from him a week ago."
"John! We have not seen him for a year. He was in London, but he is
not there now. Yes, I seem to remember that he had some business which
has taken him out of the country for a little. We hope he will soon
return, and when he knows that you have done us the honor of coming
beneath our roof he will be very sorry that he was not here to
meet you." The earl havered to the end of his breath and his
prevarications, like a clock which had run down.
"It would have been more good fortune than I expected from my
information if I had found Sir John here, for unless rumor be a
wilder liar than usual he is in Holland, where there is a considerable
gathering of worthy Presbyterians at present, taking council
together, no doubt, for the good of their country. When you are
writing to Sir John, would you of your courtesy give him a message
from me? Say that I know Holland well, and that the climate is
excellent for Scotsmen--more healthy sometimes, indeed, than their
native air--and that some of his well-wishers think that he might be
happier there than even in Paisley Castle. If he wishes service in
the army, I could recommend him to the notice of my old fellow-officer
MacKay of Scourie, who is now, I hear, a general in the Prince's
service. You will be pleased to know, my lord, that the Rye House
Plot against his Majesty was a very poor failure, and that all
engaged in it, who were caught, will be soundly trounced."
"If anyone says that my son had anything to do with that damnable
proceeding, which all loyal subjects must detest, then he is
slandering John, who is----"
"Your son, my lord, and the brother of my late Lord Cochrane cut off
too soon. I am curious to get any gossip from the low country. Would
it be too great a labor for you to let your eyes rest again on Sir
John's letters, and to learn whether he has anything to tell about my
old commander, his Highness of Orange, or anything else that would
satisfy my poor curiosity. Burned them, have you? Strange. If I had a
son instead of being a lonely man, I think his letters would be kept.
But you are a wise man, my lord, no doubt, and I seem to be doomed to
disappointment to-day in everything except the most gracious
hospitality. Now, with your permission, Lady Jean, I must go to see
that those rascals of mine are not maki
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