e theirs--in the
kitchen, namely, and in the superintendence of household affairs, in
which she was an adept. I question much if the perusal of Seneca for as
long a period would have had equal effect in composing her mind.

Old Dorothy sat down at the board end, as was the homespun fashion
of the period; and so much were the two men amused with their own
conversation, and Catharine occupied either in attending to them or with
her own reflections, that the old woman was the first who observed the
absence of the boy Conachar.

"It is true," said the master glover; "go call him, the idle Highland
loon. He was not seen last night during the fray neither, at least I saw
him not. Did any of you observe him?"

The reply was negative; and Henry's observation followed:

"There are times when Highlanders can couch like their own deer--ay,
and run from danger too as fast. I have seen them do so myself, for the
matter of that."

"And there are times," replied Simon, "when King Arthur and his Round
Table could not make stand against them. I wish, Henry, you would speak
more reverently of the Highlanders. They are often in Perth, both alone
and in numbers, and you ought to keep peace with them so long as they
will keep peace with you."

An answer of defiance rose to Henry's lips, but he prudently suppressed
it. "Why, thou knowest, father," he said, smiling, "that we handicrafts
best love the folks we live by; now, my craft provides for valiant and
noble knights, gentle squires and pages, stout men at arms, and others
that wear the weapons which we make. It is natural I should like the
Ruthvens, the Lindsays, the Ogilvys, the Oliphants, and so many others
of our brave and noble neighbours, who are sheathed in steel of my
making, like so many paladins, better than those naked, snatching
mountaineers, who are ever doing us wrong, especially since no five of
each clan have a rusty shirt of mail as old as their brattach; and that
is but the work of the clumsy clan smith after all, who is no member of
our honourable mystery, but simply works at the anvil, where his father
wrought before him. I say, such people can have no favour in the eyes of
an honest craftsman."

"Well--well," answered Simon; "I prithee let the matter rest even now,
for here comes the loitering boy, and, though it is a holyday morn, I
want no more bloody puddings."

The youth entered accordingly. His face was pale, his eyes red, and
there was an air of discomp