There can be none the day, Neil," she replied. "How will you get
'sneeshin,' wanting siller? It will teach you another time to be more
careful; and I think James More will not be very well pleased with Neil
of the Tom."

"Miss Drummond," I said, "I told you I was in my lucky day. Here I am,
and a bank-porter at my tail. And remember I have had the hospitality of
your own country of Balwhidder."

"It was not one of my people gave it," said she.

"Ah, well," said I, "but I am owing your uncle at least for some springs
upon the pipes. Besides which, I have offered myself to be your friend,
and you have been so forgetful that you did not refuse me in the proper
time."

"If it had been a great sum, it might have done you honour," said she.
"But I will tell you what this is. James More lies shackled in prison;
but this time past, they will be bringing him down here daily to the
Advocate's..."

"The Advocate's?" I cried. "Is that...?"

"It is the house of the Lord Advocate, Grant of Prestongrange," said
she. "There they bring my father one time and another, for what purpose
I have no thought in my mind; but it seems there is some hope dawned for
him. All this same time they will not let me be seeing him, nor yet him
write; and we wait upon the King's street to catch him; and now we give
him his snuff as he goes by, and now something else. And here is this
son of trouble, Neil, son of Duncan, has lost my fourpenny-piece that
was to buy that snuff, and James More must go wanting, and will think
his daughter has forgotten him."

I took sixpence from my pocket, gave it to Neil, and bade him go about
his errand. Then to her, "That sixpence came with me by Balwhidder,"
said I.

"Ah!" she said, "you are a friend to the Gregara!"

"I would not like to deceive you either," said I. "I know very little of
the Gregara and less of James More and his doings; but since the while I
have been standing in this close, I seem to know something of yourself;
and if you will just say 'a friend to Miss Catriona' I will see you are
the less cheated."

"The one cannot be without the other," said she.

"I will even try," said I.

"And what will you be thinking of myself?" she cried, "to be holding my
hand to the first stranger!"

"I am thinking nothing but that you are a good daughter," said I.

"I must not be without repaying it," she said; "where is it you stop?"

"To tell the truth, I am stopping nowhere yet," said I, "being not fu