first,
if I could but have spoken the wiser. And for one thing, in my opinion,
you will soon find that his affairs are mending."

"It will not be through your friendship, I am thinking," said she; "and
he is much made up to you for your sorrow."

"Miss Drummond," cried I, "I am alone in this world...."

"And I am not wondering at that," said she.

"O, let me speak!" said I. "I will speak but the once, and then leave
you, if you will, for ever. I came this day in the hopes of a kind word
that I am sore in want of. I know that what I said must hurt you, and I
knew it then. It would have been easy to have spoken smooth, easy to lie
to you; can you not think how I was tempted to the same? Cannot you see
the truth of my heart shine out?"

"I think here is a great deal of work, Mr. Balfour," said she. "I think
we will have met but the once, and will can part like gentle-folk."

"O, let me have one to believe in me!" I pleaded, "I cannae bear it
else. The whole world is clanned against me. How am I to go through with
my dreadful fate? If there's to be none to believe in me I cannot do it.
The man must just die, for I cannot do it."

She had still looked straight in front of her, head in air; but at my
words or the tone of my voice she came to a stop. "What is this you
say?" she asked. "What are you talking of?"

"It is my testimony which may save an innocent life," said I, "and they
will not suffer me to bear it. What would you do yourself? You know what
this is, whose father lies in danger. Would you desert the poor soul?
They have tried all ways with me. They have sought to bribe me; they
offered me hills and valleys. And to-day that sleuth-hound told me how I
stood, and to what a length he would go to butcher and disgrace me. I am
to be brought in a party to the murder; I am to have held Glenure in
talk for money and old clothes; I am to be killed and shamed. If this is
the way I am to fall, and me scarce a man--if this is the story to be
told of me in all Scotland--if you are to believe it too, and my name is
to be nothing but a by-word--Catriona, how can I go through with it? The
thing's not possible; it's more than a man has in his heart."

I poured my words out in a whirl, one upon the other; and when I stopped
I found her gazing on me with a startled face.

"Glenure! It is the Appin murder," she said softly, but with a very deep
surprise.

I had turned back to bear her company, and we were now come near the