ck by English.

Twice or thrice they spoke together, and I could make out that Neil (for
all his obsequiousness) was an angry man.

Then she turned to me. "He swears it is not," she said.

"Catriona," said I, "do you believe the man yourself?"

She made a gesture like wringing the hands.

"How will I can know?" she cried.

"But I must find some means to know," said I. "I cannot continue to go
dovering round in the black night with two men's lives at my girdle!
Catriona, try to put yourself in my place, as I vow to God I try hard to
put myself in yours. This is no kind of talk that should ever have
fallen between me and you; no kind of talk; my heart is sick with it.
See, keep him here till two of the morning, and I care not. Try him with
that."

They spoke together once more in the Gaelic.

"He says he has James More my father's errand," said she. She was whiter
than ever, and her voice faltered as she said it.

"It is pretty plain now," said I, "and may God forgive the wicked!"

She said never anything to that, but continued gazing at me with the
same white face.

"This is a fine business," said I again. "Am I to fall, then, and those
two along with me?"

"O, what am I to do?" she cried. "Could I go against my father's orders,
and him in prison, in the danger of his life?"

"But perhaps we go too fast," said I. "This may be a lie too. He may
have no right orders; all may be contrived by Symon, and your father
knowing nothing."

She burst out weeping between the pair of us; and my heart smote me
hard, for I thought this girl was in a dreadful situation.

"Here," said I, "keep him but the one hour; and I'll chance it, and say
God bless you."

She put out her hand to me. "I will be needing one good word," she
sobbed.

"The full hour, then?" said I, keeping her hand in mine. "Three lives of
it, my lass!"

"The full hour!" she said, and cried aloud on her Redeemer to forgive
her.

I thought it no fit place for me, and fled.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XI

THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS

I lost no time, but down through the valley and by Stockbrig and
Silvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan's tryst to lie every
night between twelve and two "in a bit scrog of wood by east of
Silvermills and by south the south mill-lade." This I found easy enough,
where it grew on a steep brae, with the mill-lade flowing swift and deep
along the foot of it; and here I began to w