s some
friends of yours, of whom I sometimes think you are a little ashamed,
for you have never referred to their existence."

I suppose I blushed.

"I see you understand, since you make the answering signal," said he.
"And I must compliment you on your excellent taste in beauty. But do you
know, Mr. David, this seems to me a very enterprising lass? She crops up
from every side. The Government of Scotland appears unable to proceed
for Mistress Katrine Drummond, which was somewhat the case (no great
while back) with a certain Mr. David Balfour. Should not these make a
good match? Her first intromission in politics--but I must not tell you
that story, the authorities have decided you are to hear it otherwise
and from a livelier narrator. This new example is more serious, however;
and I am afraid I must alarm you with the intelligence that she is now
in prison."

I cried out.

"Yes," said he, "the little lady is in prison. But I would not have you
to despair. Unless you (with your friends and memorials) shall procure
my downfall, she is to suffer nothing."

"But what has she done? What is her offence?" I cried.

"It might be almost construed a high treason," he returned, "for she has
broke the King's Castle of Edinburgh."

"The lady is much my friend," I said. "I know you would not work me if
the thing were serious."

"And yet it is serious in a sense," said he; "for this rogue of a
Katrine--or Cateran, as we may call her--has set adrift again upon the
world that very doubtful character, her papa."

Here was one of my previsions justified: James More was once again at
liberty. He had lent his men to keep me a prisoner; he had volunteered
his testimony in the Appin case, and the same (no matter by what
subterfuge) had been employed to influence the jury. Now came his
reward, and he was free. It might please the authorities to give to it
the colour of an escape; but I knew better--I knew it was the fulfilment
of a bargain. The same course of thought relieved me of the least alarm
for Catriona. She might be thought to have broke prison for her father;
she might have believed so herself. But the chief hand in the whole
business was that of Prestongrange; and I was sure, so far from letting
her come to punishment, he would not suffer her to be even tried.
Whereupon thus came out of me the not very politic ejaculation:

"Ah! I was expecting that!"

"You have at times a great deal of discretion too!" says Prestongra