tainly it was a mortifying matter for all concerned, and not least
for Cluny; the more credit that he took it as he did.

"Mr. Balfour," said he, "I think you are too nice and covenanting, but
for all that you have the spirit of a very pretty gentleman. Upon my
honest word, ye may take this money--it's what I would tell my son--and
here's my hand along with it!"

FOOTNOTE:

[28] Condiment.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE QUARREL

Alan and I were put across Loch Errocht under cloud of night, and went
down its eastern shore to another hiding-place near the head of Loch
Rannoch, whither we were led by one of the gillies from the Cage. This
fellow carried all our luggage and Alan's great-coat in the bargain,
trotting along under the burthen, far less than the half of which used
to weigh me to the ground, like a stout hill-pony with a feather; yet he
was a man that, in plain contest, I could have broken on my knee.

Doubtless it was a great relief to walk disencumbered; and perhaps
without that relief, and the consequent sense of liberty and lightness,
I could not have walked at all. I was but new risen from a bed of
sickness; and there was nothing in the state of our affairs to hearten
me for much exertion; travelling, as we did, over the most dismal
deserts in Scotland, under a cloudy heaven, and with divided hearts
among the travellers.

For long we said nothing; marching alongside or one behind the other,
each with a set countenance; I, angry and proud, and drawing what
strength I had from these two violent and sinful feelings: Alan angry
and ashamed,--ashamed that he had lost my money, angry that I should
take it so ill.

The thought of a separation ran always the stronger in my mind; and the
more I approved of it, the more ashamed I grew of my approval. It would
be a fine, handsome, generous thing, indeed, for Alan to turn round and
say to me: "Go; I am in the most danger, and my company only increases
yours." But for me to turn to the friend who certainly loved me, and say
to him: "You are in great danger, I am in but little; your friendship is
a burden; go, take your risks and bear your hardships alone----" no,
that was impossible; and even to think of it privily to myself made my
cheeks to burn.

And yet Alan had behaved like a child, and (what is worse) a treacherous
child. Wheedling my money from me while I lay half-conscious was scarce
better than theft; and yet here he was,