head of the brae above Dean village. At this word I stepped in front of
her like one suddenly distracted.

"For God's sake!" I cried, "for God's sake, what is this that I have
done?" and carried my fists to my temples. "What made me do it? Sure, I
am bewitched to say these things!"

"In the name of heaven, what ails you now?" she cried.

"I gave my honour," I groaned, "I gave my honour and now I have broke
it. O, Catriona!"

"I am asking you what it is," she said; "was it these things you should
not have spoken? And do you think _I_ have no honour, then? or that I am
one that would betray a friend? I hold up my right hand to you and
swear."

"O, I knew you would be true!" said I. "It's me--it's here. I that stood
but this morning and out-faced them, that risked rather to die disgraced
upon the gallows than do wrong--and a few hours after I throw my honour
away by the roadside in common talk! 'There is one thing clear upon our
interview,' says he, 'that I can rely on your pledged word.' Where is my
word now? Who could believe me now? _You_ could not believe me. I am
clean fallen down; I had best die!" All this I said with a weeping
voice, but I had no tears in my body.

"My heart is sore for you," said she, "but be sure you are too nice. I
would not believe you, do you say? I would trust you with anything. And
these men? I would not be thinking of them! Men who go about to entrap
and to destroy you! Fy! this is no time to crouch. Look up! Do you not
think I will be admiring you like a great hero of the good--and you a
boy not much older than myself? And because you said a word too much in
a friend's ear, that would die ere she betrayed you--to make such a
matter! It is one thing that we must both forget."

"Catriona," said I, looking at her, hang-dog, "is this true of it? Would
ye trust me yet?"

"Will you not believe the tears upon my face?" she cried. "It is the
world I am thinking of you, Mr. David Balfour. Let them hang you; I will
never forget, I will grow old and still remember you. I think it is
great to die so; I will envy you that gallows."

"And maybe all this while I am but a child frighted with bogles," said
I. "Maybe they but make a mock of me."

"It is what I must know," she said. "I must hear the whole. The harm is
done at all events, and I must hear the whole."

I had sat down on the wayside, where she took a place beside me, and I
told her all that matter much as I have written it, my thou