former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the
roof and planning the future.

FOOTNOTES:

[34] Dealings.

[35] Troublesome.

CHAPTER XXX

GOOD-BYE

So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I had still
Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and I felt besides a
heavy charge in the matter of the murder and James of the Glens. On both
these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor the next morning, walking to and
fro about six of the clock before the house of Shaws, and with nothing
in view but the fields and woods that had been my ancestors', and were
now mine. Even as I spoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a
glad bit of a run over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride.

About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt: I must help
him out of the country at whatever risk; but in the case of James he was
of a different mind.

"Mr. Thomson," says he, "is one thing, Mr. Thomson's kinsman quite
another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that a great noble
(whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.[36]) has some concern, and
is even supposed to feel some animosity in the matter. The D. of A. is
doubtless an excellent nobleman; but, Mr. David, _timeo qui nocuere
deos_. If you interfere to baulk his vengeance, you should remember
there is one way to shut your testimony out; and that is to put you in
the dock. There you would be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson's
kinsman. You will object that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And
to be tried for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarrel,
and with a Highland judge upon the bench, would be a brief transition to
the gallows."

Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very good reply
to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. "In that case, sir,"
said I, "I would just have to be hanged--would I not?"

"My dear boy," cries he, "go in God's name, and do what you think is
right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I should be advising
you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take it back with an apology.
Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if you must, like a gentleman. There
are worse things in the world than to be hanged."

"Not many, sir," said I, smiling.

"Why, yes, sir," he cried, "very many. And it would be ten times better
for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he were dangling decently
upon a gibbet."

Thereupon he tu