s, Robin," said Stewart.

"Gosh, that'll no' be Alan Breck?" cried the clerk.

"Just Alan," said his master.

"Weary winds! that's sayrious," cried Robin. "I'll try Andie, then;
Andie'll be the best."

"It seems it's quite a big business," I observed.

"Mr. Balfour, there's no end to it," said Stewart.

"There was a name your clerk mentioned," I went on: "Hoseason. That must
be my man, I think: Hoseason, of the brig _Covenant_. Would you set your
trust on him?"

"He didna behave very well to you and Alan," said Mr. Stewart; "but my
mind of the man in general is rather otherwise. If he had taken Alan on
board his ship on an agreement, it's my notion he would have proved a
just dealer.--How say ye, Rob?"

"No more honest skipper in the trade than Eli," said the clerk. "I
would lippen to[5] Eli's word--ay, if it was the Chevalier, or Appin
himsel'," he added.

"And it was him that brought the doctor, wasna't?" asked the master.

"He was the very man," said the clerk.

"And I think he took the doctor back?" says Stewart.

"Ay, with his sporran full!" cried Robin. "And Eli kennt of that!"[6]

"Well, it seems it's hard to ken folk rightly," said I.

"That was just what I forgot when ye came in, Mr. Balfour!" says the
Writer.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Flatteries.

[5] Trust to.

[6] This must have reference to Dr. Cameron on his first visit.--D.B.

CHAPTER III

I GO TO PILRIG

The next morning I was no sooner awake in my new lodging than I was up
and into my new clothes; and no sooner the breakfast swallowed, than I
was forth on my adventures. Alan, I could hope, was fended for; James
was like to be a more difficult affair, and I could not but think that
enterprise might cost me dear, even as everybody said to whom I had
opened my opinion. It seemed I was come to the top of the mountain only
to cast myself down; that I had clambered up, through so many and hard
trials, to be rich, to be recognised, to wear city clothes and a sword
to my side, all to commit mere suicide at the last end of it, and the
worst kind of suicide besides, which is to get hanged at the King's
charges.

What was I doing it for? I asked, as I went down the High Street and out
north by Leith Wynd. First I said it was to save James Stewart; and no
doubt the memory of his distress and his wife's cries, and a word or so
I had let drop on that occasion worked upon me strongly. At the same
time I reflected that it was (or ou