would MacGillie Chattanach would
agree with me, and then, instead of wasting our best blood against
each other, we would go down together to Strathmore and kill and take
possession. I would rule at Perth and he at Dundee, and all the great
strath should be our own to the banks of the Firth of Tay. Such is the
policy I have caught from your old grey head, father Simon, when holding
a trencher at thy back, and listening to thy evening talk with Bailie
Craigdallie."

"The tongue is well called an unruly member," thought the glover.
"Here have I been holding a candle to the devil, to show him the way to
mischief."

But he only said aloud: "These plans come too late."

"Too late indeed!" answered Eachin. "The indentures of battle are signed
by our marks and seals, the burning hate of the Clan Quhele and Clan
Chattan is blown up to an inextinguishable flame by mutual insults and
boasts. Yes, the time is passed by. But to thine own affairs, father
Glover. It is religion that has brought thee hither, as I learn from
Niel Booshalloch. Surely, my experience of thy prudence did not lead
me to suspect thee of any quarrel with Mother Church. As for my old
acquaintance, Father Clement, he is one of those who hunt after the
crown of martyrdom, and think a stake, surrounded with blazing fagots,
better worth embracing than a willing bride. He is a very knight errant
in defence of his religious notions, and does battle wherever he comes.
He hath already a quarrel with the monks of Sibyl's Isle yonder about
some point of doctrine. Hast seen him?"

"I have," answered Simon; "but we spoke little together, the time being
pressing."

"He may have said that there is a third person--one more likely, I
think, to be a true fugitive for religion than either you, a shrewd
citizen, or he, a wrangling preacher--who would be right heartily
welcome to share our protection? Thou art dull, man, and wilt not guess
my meaning--thy daughter, Catharine."

These last words the young chief spoke in English; and he continued the
conversation in that language, as if apprehensive of being overheard,
and, indeed, as if under the sense of some involuntary hesitation.

"My daughter Catharine," said the glover, remembering what the
Carthusian had told him, "is well and safe."

"But where or with whom?" said the young chief. "And wherefore came she
not with you? Think you the Clan Quhele have no cailliachs as active as
old Dorothy, whose hand has warmed my h