ter for his health if we give his name the go-by."

James of the Glens turned to me for a moment, and greeted me courteously
enough; the next he had turned to Alan.

"This has been a dreadful accident," he cried. "It will bring trouble on
the country." And he wrung his hands.

"Hoots!" said Alan, "ye must take the sour with the sweet, man. Colin
Roy is dead, and be thankful for that!"

"Ay" said James, "and by my troth, I wish he was alive again! It's all
very fine to blow and boast beforehand; but now it's done, Alan; and
who's to bear the wyte* of it? The accident fell out in Appin--mind ye
that, Alan; it's Appin that must pay; and I am a man that has a family."

* Blame.

While this was going on I looked about me at the servants. Some were on
ladders, digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings,
from which they brought out guns, swords, and different weapons of
war; others carried them away; and by the sound of mattock blows from
somewhere farther down the brae, I suppose they buried them. Though they
were all so busy, there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts; men
struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their
burning torches; and James was continually turning about from his talk
with Alan, to cry out orders which were apparently never understood. The
faces in the torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry
and panic; and though none spoke above his breath, their speech sounded
both anxious and angry.

It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying
a pack or bundle; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan's
instinct awoke at the mere sight of it.

"What's that the lassie has?" he asked.

"We're just setting the house in order, Alan," said James, in his
frightened and somewhat fawning way. "They'll search Appin with candles,
and we must have all things straight. We're digging the bit guns and
swords into the moss, ye see; and these, I am thinking, will be your ain
French clothes. We'll be to bury them, I believe."

"Bury my French clothes!" cried Alan. "Troth, no!" And he laid hold upon
the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me
in the meanwhile to his kinsman.

James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and sat down with me at
table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner. But
presently the gloom returned upon him; he sat frowning and biting his
fingers; only re