ir?"

"And your Uncle Julian--Mr. Wemyss? Will they not be harder on him
because I have escaped?"

"You have not escaped--you have been carried off," Patsy corrected. "So
was Uncle Ju. He walked off the step of his verandah into the arms of
Captain Penman and half-a-dozen of the crew of the _Good Intent_. They
seized him and carried him on the _Billy Goat_, which sailed immediately
for parts unknown. But Joseph managed so well and the orders from
headquarters were so strict, that the garrison did not even loot the
house as they did at Cairn Ferris, that night when you disgraced us all
by drawing royal blood at the White Loch. Here are some books which he
sent for you--some from the Bothy, and some for me to read. I am not so
learned as you, and Joseph chose accordingly. If we have wet days,
Stair, we can read all day with our toes to the fire!"

"And why did not we also go on the _Good Intent_ and so get away from
all this trouble?" Stair inquired.

"If you wanted Uncle Ju all day telling us what his Princess would have
thought, said and done--I did not. I wanted to be by our own two selves.
Besides, if we were to get married, there is no country in the world
where it can be done with such willingness and alacrity as at home. Also
I have been brought up a good Presbyterian, and a parish minister and
his session clerk--well, where in foreign parts will you find the like
of Mr. Duff and honest James Fraser? The _Good Intent_, indeed! I think
you are hard to please if you are not content with your present
quarters, young man!"

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE LAND OF ALWAYS AFTERNOON

By the afternoon of the second day Stair was finding himself unfit for
human society, because he had not been able to shave since he left the
prison. Of course he had brought nothing with him. There was no time.
His hand went unconsciously every other minute to his scrubby chin. In
truth, his Norse blondness did not allow it to show as much as he
supposed. But that did not detract from the pervading sensation of
disgustful grubbiness.

Patsy's eyes missed nothing, and very soon she surprised him by opening
the door of a little tower chamber on the ground floor, sparsely but
quite sufficiently furnished.

"I should feel very much safer," she said, "if you were to sleep within
the house. You will find shaving materials in the corner!"

Stair could not thank her, but then neither did his accursed pride rise
up in rebellion. She closed