s 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 Stockbridge 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 walk slower and to
reflect more reasonably on my employment. I saw I had made but a fool's
bargain with Catriona. It was not to be supposed that Neil was sent
alone upon his errand, but perhaps he was the only man belonging to
James More; in which case, I should have done all I could to hang
Catriona's father, and nothing the least material to help myself. To
tell the truth, I fancied neither one of these ideas. Suppose, by
holding back Neil, the girl should have helped to hang her father, I
thought she would never forgive herself this side of time. And suppose
there were others pursuing me that moment, what kind of a gift was I
come bringing to Alan? and how would I like that?

I was up with the west end of that wood when these two considerations
struck me like a cudgel. My feet stopped of themselves, and my heart
along with them. "What wild game is this that I have been playing?"
thought I; and turned instantly upon my heels to go elsewhere.

This brought my face to Silvermills; the path came past the village with
a crook, but all plainly visible; and, Highland or Lowland, there was
nobody stirring. Here was my advantage, here was just such a
conjuncture as Stewart had counselled me to profit by, and I ran by the
side of the mill-lade, fetched about beyond the east corner of the wood,
threaded through the midst of it, and returned to the west selvage,
whence I could again command the path, and yet be myself unseen. Again
it was all empty, and my heart began to rise.

For more than an hour I sat close in the border of the trees, and no
hare or eagle could have kept a more particula