note."

The stupid Highlanders had taken from me at the time of my seizure
nothing but hard money, and the paper I now showed Andie was an
acknowledgment from the British Linen Company for a considerable sum.

He read it. "Troth, and ye're nane sae ill aff," said he.

"I thought that would maybe vary your opinions," said I.

"Hout!" said he. "It shows me ye can bribe; but I'm no' to be bribit."

"We'll see about that yet a while," says I. "And first, I'll show you
that I know what I am talking. You have orders to detain me here till
after Thursday, 21st September."

"Ye're no' a'thegether wrong either," says Andie. "I'm to let ye gang,
bar orders contrair, on Saturday, the 23rd."

I could not but feel there was something extremely insidious in this
arrangement. That I was to reappear precisely in time to be too late
would cast the more discredit on my tale, if I were minded to tell one;
and this screwed me to fighting point.

"Now then, Andie, you that kens the world, listen to me, and think while
ye listen," said I. "I know there are great folks in the business, and I
make no doubt you have their names to go upon. I have seen some of them
myself since this affair began, and said my say into their faces too.
But what kind of a crime would this be that I had committed? or what
kind of a process is this that I am fallen under? To be apprehended by
some ragged John-Hielandmen on August 30th, carried to a rickle of old
stones that is now neither fort nor gaol (whatever it once was) but just
the gamekeeper's lodge of the Bass Rock, and set free again, September
23rd, as secretly as I was first arrested--does that sound like law to
you? or does it sound like justice? or does it not sound honestly like a
piece of some low, dirty intrigue, of which the very folk that meddle
with it are ashamed?"

"I canna gainsay ye, Shaws. It looks unco under-hand," says Andie. "And
werena the folk guid sound Whigs and true-blue Presbyterians I would hae
seen them ayont Jordan and Jeroozlem or I would have set hand to it."

"The Master of Lovat'll be a braw Whig," says I, "and a grand
Presbyterian."

"I ken naething by him," said he. "I hae nae trokings wi' Lovats."

"No, it'll be Prestongrange that you'll be dealing with," said I.

"Ah, but I'll no' tell ye that," said Andie.

"Little need when I ken," was my retort.

"There's just the ae thing ye can be fairly sure of, Shaws," says Andie.
"And that is that (try as ye please