"Ha'e," said the one, "this billet as fast as ye can link to the captain."
"Is that for the cateran back again?" asked the other.
"It would seem sae," returned the first. "Him and Simon are seeking him."
"I think Prestongrange is gane gyte," says the second. "He'll have James More in bed with him next."
"Weel, it's neither your affair nor mine's," said the first.
And they parted, the one upon his errand, and the other back into the house.
This looked as ill as possible. I was scarce gone and they were sending already for James More, to whom I thought Mr. Simon must have pointed when he spoke of men in prison and ready to redeem their lives by all extremities. My scalp curdled among my hair, and the next moment the blood leaped in me to remember Catriona. Poor lass! her father stood to be hanged for pretty indefensible misconduct. What was yet more unpalatable, it now seemed he was prepared to save his four quarters by the worst of shame and the most foul of cowardly murders—murder by the false oath; and to complete our misfortunes, it seemed myself was picked out to be the victim.
I began to walk swiftly and at random, conscious only of a desire for movement, air, and the open country.
