it to Neil, and bade him go about
his errand. Then to her, "That sixpence came with me by Balquhidder,"
said I.

"Ah!" she said, "you are a friend to the Gregara!"

"I would not like to deceive you either," said I. "I know very little of
the Gregara and less of James More and his doings, but since the while I
have been standing in this close, I seem to know something of yourself;
and if you will just say 'a friend to Miss Catriona' I will see you are
the less cheated."

"The one cannot be without the other," said she.

"I will even try," said I.

"And what will you be thinking of myself?" she cried, "to be holding my
hand to the first stranger!"

"I am thinking nothing but that you are a good daughter," said I.

"I must not be without repaying it," she said. "Where is it you stop?"

"To tell the truth, I am stopping nowhere yet," said I, "being not full
three hours in the city; but if you will give me your direction, I will
be so bold as come seeking my sixpence for myself."

"Will I can trust you for that?" she asked.

"You need have little fear," said I.

"James More could not bear it else," said she. "I stop beyond the
village of Dean, on the north side of the water, with Mrs.
Drummond-Ogilvy of Allardyce, who is my near friend and will be glad to
thank you."

"You are to see me then, so soon as what I have to do permits," said I;
and, the remembrance of Alan rolling in again upon my mind, I made haste
to say farewell.

I could not but think, even as I did so, that we had made extraordinary
free upon short acquaintance, and that a really wise young lady would
have shown herself more backward. I think it was the bank-porter that
put me from this ungallant train of thought.

"I thoucht ye had been a lad of some kind o' sense," he began, shooting
out his lips. "Ye're no' likely to gang far this gate. A fule and his
siller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a green callant!" he cried, "an' a
veecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubee-joes!"

"If you dare to speak of the young lady ..." I began.

"Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' _thon_ a
leddy? The toun's fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, it's weel seen ye're no
very acquaint in Embro!"

A clap of anger took me.

"Here," said I, "lead me where I told you, and keep your foul mouth
shut!"

He did not wholly obey me, for though he no more addressed me directly,
he sang at me as he went in a very impudent manner of innuendo, and with
an ex