"Preserve me!" she cried. "Has Ebenezer gotten a son?"

"No, ma'am," said I. "I am a son of Alexander's. It's I that am the
Laird of Shaws."

"Ye'll find your work cut out for ye to establish that," quoth she.
"I perceive you know my uncle," said I; "and I daresay you may be the

better pleased to hear that business is arranged."
"And what brings ye here after Miss Drummond?" she pursued.

"I'm come after my saxpence, mem," said I. "It's to be thought, being
my uncle's nephew, I would be found a careful lad."

"So ye have a spark of sleeness in ye?" observed the old lady, with
some approval. "I thought ye had just been a cuif - you and your

saxpence, and your LUCKY DAY and your SAKE OF BALWHIDDER" - from which
I was gratified to learn that Catriona had not forgotten some of our

talk. "But all this is by the purpose," she resumed. "Am I to
understand that ye come here keeping company?"

"This is surely rather an early question," said I. "The maid is young,
so am I, worse fortune. I have but seen her the once. I'll not deny,"

I added, making up my mind to try her with some frankness, "I'll not
deny but she has run in my head a good deal since I met in with her.

That is one thing; but it would be quite another, and I think I would
look very like a fool, to commit myself."

"You can speak out of your mouth, I see," said the old lady. "Praise
God, and so can I! I was fool enough to take charge of this rogue's

daughter: a fine charge I have gotten; but it's mine, and I'll carry
it the way I want to. Do ye mean to tell me, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,

that you would marry James More's daughter, and him hanged! Well,
then, where there's no possible marriage there shall be no manner of

carryings on, and take that for said. Lasses are bruckle things," she
added, with a nod; "and though ye would never think it by my wrunkled

chafts, I was a lassie mysel', and a bonny one."
"Lady Allardyce," said I, "for that I suppose to be your name, you seem

to do the two sides of the talking, which is a very poor manner to come
to an agreement. You give me rather a home thrust when you ask if I

would marry, at the gallow's foot, a young lady whom I have seen but
once. I have told you already I would never be so untenty as to commit

myself. And yet I'll go some way with you. If I continue to like the
lass as well as I have reason to expect, it will be something more than

her father, or the gallows either, that keeps the two of us apart. As
for my family, I found it by the wayside like a lost bawbee! I owe

less than nothing to my uncle and if ever I marry, it will be to please
one person: that's myself."

"I have heard this kind of talk before ye were born," said Mrs. Ogilvy,
"which is perhaps the reason that I think of it so little. There's

much to be considered. This James More is a kinsman of mine, to my
shame be it spoken. But the better the family, the mair men hanged or

headed, that's always been poor Scotland's story. And if it was just
the hanging! For my part I think I would be best pleased with James

upon the gallows, which would be at least an end to him. Catrine's a
good lass enough, and a good-hearted, and lets herself be deaved all

day with a runt of an auld wife like me. But, ye see, there's the weak
bit. She's daft about that long, false, fleeching beggar of a father

of hers, and red-mad about the Gregara, and proscribed names, and King
James, and a wheen blethers. And you might think ye could guide her,

ye would find yourself sore mista'en. Ye say ye've seen her but the
once. . ."

"Spoke with her but the once, I should have said," I interrupted. "I
saw her again this morning from a window at Prestongrange's."

This I daresay I put in because it sounded well; but I was properly
paid for my ostentation on the return.

"What's this of it?" cries the old lady, with a sudden pucker of her
face. "I think it was at the Advocate's door-cheek that ye met her

first."
I told her that was so.

"H'm," she said; and then suddenly, upon rather a scolding tone, "I
have your bare word for it," she cries, "as to who and what you are.

By your way of it, you're Balfour of the Shaws; but for what I ken you
may be Balfour of the Deevil's oxter. It's possible ye may come here

for what ye say, and it's equally possible ye may come here for deil
care what! I'm good enough Whig to sit quiet, and to have keepit all

my men-folk's heads upon their shoulders. But I'm not just a good
enough Whig to be made a fool of neither. And I tell you fairly,

there's too much Advocate's door and Advocate's window here for a man
that comes taigling after a Macgregor's daughter. Ye can tell that to

the Advocate that sent ye, with my fond love. And I kiss my loof to
ye, Mr. Balfour," says she, suiting the action to the word; "and a braw

journey to ye back to where ye cam frae."
"If you think me a spy," I broke out, and speech stuck in my throat. I

stood and looked murder at the old lady for a space, then bowed and
turned away.

"Here! Hoots! The callant's in a creel!" she cried. "Think ye a spy?
what else would I think ye - me that kens naething by ye? But I see

that I was wrong; and as I cannot fight, I'll have to apologise. A
bonny figure I would be with a broadsword. Ay! ay!" she went on,

"you're none such a bad lad in your way; I think ye'll have some
redeeming vices. But, O! Davit Balfour, ye're damned countryfeed.

Ye'll have to win over that, lad; ye'll have to soople your back-bone,
and think a wee pickle less of your dainty self; and ye'll have to try

to find out that women-folk are nae grenadiers. But that can never be.
To your last day you'll ken no more of women-folk than what I do of

sow-gelding."
I had never been used with such expressions from a lady's tongue, the

only two ladies I had known, Mrs. Campbell and my mother, being most
devout and most particular women; and I suppose my amazement must have

been depicted in my countenance, for Mrs. Ogilvy burst forth suddenly
in a fit of laughter.

"Keep me!" she cried, struggling with her mirth, "you have the finest
timber face - and you to marry the daughter of a Hieland cateran!

Davie, my dear, I think we'll have to make a match of it - if it was
just to see the weans. And now," she went on, "there's no manner of

service in your daidling here, for the young woman is from home, and
it's my fear that the old woman is no suitablecompanion for your

father's son. Forbye that I have nobody but myself to look after my
reputation, and have been long enough alone with a sedooctive youth.

And come back another day for your saxpence!" she cried after me as I
left.

My skirmish with this disconcerting lady gave my thoughts a boldness
they had otherwise wanted. For two days the image of Catriona had

mixed in all my meditations; she made their background, so that I
scarce enjoyed my own company without a glint of her in a corner of my

mind. But now she came immediately near; I seemed to touch her, whom I
had never touched but the once; I let myself flow out to her in a happy

weakness, and looking all about, and before and behind, saw the world
like an undesirable desert, where men go as soldiers on a march,

following their duty with what constancy they have, and Catriona alone
there to offer me some pleasure of my days. I wondered at myself that

I could dwell on such considerations in that time of my peril and
disgrace; and when I remembered my youth I was ashamed. I had my

studies to complete: I had to be called into some useful business; I
had yet to take my part of service in a place where all must serve; I

had yet to learn, and know, and prove myself a man; and I had so much
sense as blush that I should be already tempted with these further-on

and holier delights and duties. My education spoke home to me sharply;
I was never brought up on sugar biscuits but on the hard food of the

truth. I knew that he was quite unfit to be a husband who was not
prepared to be a father also; and for a boy like me to play the father

was a mere derision.
When I was in the midst of these thoughts and about half-way back to

town I saw a figure coming to meet me, and the trouble of my heart was
heightened. It seemed I had everything in the world to say to her, but

nothing to say first; and remembering how tongue-tied I had been that
morning at the Advocate's I made sure that I would find myself struck

dumb. But when she came up my fears fled away; not even the
consciousness of what I had been privately thinking disconcerted me the

least; and I found I could talk with her as easily and rationally as I
might with Alan.

"O!" she cried, "you have been seeking your sixpence; did you get it?"
I told her no; but now I had met with her my walk was not in vain.

"Though I have seen you to-day already," said I, and told her where and
when.

"I did not see you," she said. "My eyes are big, but there are better
than mine at seeing far. Only I heard singing in the house."

"That was Miss Grant," said I, "the eldest and the bonniest."
"They say they are all beautiful," said she.

"They think the same of you, Miss Drummond," I replied, "and were all
crowding to the window to observe you."

"It is a pity about my being so blind," said she, "or I might have seen
them too. And you were in the house? You must have been having the

fine time with the fine music and the pretty ladies."
"There is just where you are wrong," said I; "for I was as uncouth as a

sea-fish upon the brae of a mountain. The truth is that I am better
fitted to go about with rudas men than pretty ladies."

"Well, I would think so too, at all events!" said she, at which we both
of us laughed.

"It is a strange thing, now," said I. "I am not the least afraid with
you, yet I could have run from the Miss Grants. And I was afraid of

your cousin too."
"O, I think any man will be afraid of her," she cried. "My father is

afraid of her himself."
The name of her father brought me to a stop. I looked at her as she

walked by my side; I recalled the man, and the little I knew and the
much I guessed of him; and comparing the one with the other, felt like

a traitor to be silent.
"Speaking of which," said I, "I met your father no later than this

morning."
"Did you?" she cried, with a voice of joy that seemed to mock at me.

"You saw James More? You will have spoken with him then?"
"I did even that," said I.

Then I think things went the worst way for me that was humanly
possible. She gave me a look of mere gratitude. "Ah, thank you for

that!" says she.
"You thank me for very little," said I, and then stopped. But it

seemed when I was holding back so much, something at least had to come
out. "I spoke rather ill to him," said I; "I did no like him very

much; I spoke him rather ill, and he was angry."
"I think you had little to do then, and less to tell it to his

daughter!" she cried out. "But those that do not love and cherish him
I will not know."

"I will take the freedom of a word yet," said I, beginning to tremble.
"Perhaps neither your father nor I are in the best of spirits at

Prestongrange's. I daresay we both have anxious business there, for
it's a dangerous house. I was sorry for him too, and spoke to him the

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

• perceive [pə´si:v] vt.察觉；看出；领悟 (初中英语单词)
• nephew [´nevju:, ´nɛfju] n.侄子；外甥 (初中英语单词)
• commit [kə´mit] vt.犯(罪)；把...判处 (初中英语单词)
• charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
• agreement [ə´gri:mənt] n.同意；一致；协议 (初中英语单词)
• thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
• spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
• beggar [´begə] n.乞丐 (初中英语单词)
• equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
• advocate [´ædvəkit] n.辩护者 (初中英语单词)
• throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
• amazement [ə´meizmənt] n.惊愕；惊奇 (初中英语单词)
• countenance [´kauntinəns] n.面部表情；脸色；面容 (初中英语单词)
• suitable [´su:təbəl, ´sju:-] a.合适的，适当的 (初中英语单词)
• companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
• otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
• background [´bækgraund] n.背景；经历；幕后 (初中英语单词)
• ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
• traitor [´treitə] n.叛徒，卖国贼 (初中英语单词)
• gratitude [´grætitju:d] n.感激，感谢 (初中英语单词)
• beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
• anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
• dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
• approval [ə´pru:vəl] n.赞成，批准，认可 (高中英语单词)
• damned [dæmd] a.该死的 ad.非常，极 (高中英语单词)
• pickle [´pikəl] n.盐汁；腌菜 v.腌渍 (高中英语单词)
• dainty [´deinti] a.秀丽的 n.美味 (高中英语单词)
• half-way [´hɑ:fwei] ad.半途；几乎 (高中英语单词)
• seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
• eldest [´eldist] a.最年长的 (高中英语单词)
• cherish [´tʃeriʃ] vt.珍爱；怀有(感情) (高中英语单词)
• gotten [´gɔtn] get的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
• gallows [´gæləuz] n.绞刑架 (英语四级单词)
• skirmish [´skə:miʃ] n.小战斗 vi.打小仗 (英语四级单词)
• sixpence [´sikspəns] n.六便士(硬币) (英语四级单词)
• frankness [´fræŋknis] n.坦白，直率，真诚 (英语六级单词)
• wayside [´weisaid] n.&a.路边(的) (英语六级单词)
• undesirable [,ʌndi´zaiərəbəl] a.&n.不受欢迎的(人) (英语六级单词)
• constancy [´kɔnstənsi] n.坚定；坚贞；坚久不变 (英语六级单词)
• privately [´praivitli] ad.秘密，一个人 (英语六级单词)
• uncouth [ʌn´ku:θ] a.粗野的；笨拙的 (英语六级单词)
• holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)