Then she turned to me. "He swears it is not," she said.
"Catriona," said I, "do you believe the man yourself?"
She made a gesture like wringing the hands.
"How will I can know?" she cried.
But I must find some means to know," said I. "I cannot continue to
go dovering round in the black night with two men's lives at my
girdle! Catriona, try to put yourself in my place, as I vow to God
I try hard to put myself in yours. This is no kind of talk that
should ever have fallen between me and you; no kind of talk; my
heart is sick with it. See, keep him here till two of the morning,
and I care not. Try him with that."
They spoke together once more in the Gaelic.
"He says he has James More my father's errand," said she. She was
whiter than ever, and her voice faltered as she said it.
"It is pretty plain now," said I, "and may God forgive the wicked!"
She said never anything to that, but continued gazing at me with
the same white face.
"This is a fine business," said I again. "Am I to fall, then, and
those two along with me?"
"O, what am I to do?" she cried. "Could I go against my father's
orders, him in prison, in the danger of his life!"
"But perhaps we go too fast," said I. "This may be a lie too. He
may have no right orders; all may be contrived by Simon, and your
father knowing nothing."
She burst out weeping between the pair of us; and my heart smote me
hard, for I thought this girl was in a dreadful situation.
"Here," said I, "keep him but the one hour; and I'll chance it, and
may God bless you."
She put out her hand to me, "I will he needing one good word," she
sobbed.
"The full hour, then?" said I, keeping her hand in mine. "Three
lives of it, my lass!"
"The full hour!" she said, and cried aloud on her Redeemer to
forgive her.
I thought it no fit place for me, and fled.
CHAPTER XI--THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS
I lost no time, but down through the valley and by Stockbridge and
Silvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan's tryst to be
every night between twelve and two "in a bit scrog of wood by east
of Silvermills and by south the south mill-lade." This I found
easy enough, where it grew on a steep brae, with the mill-lade
flowing swift and deep along the foot of it; and here I began to
walk slower and to reflect more reasonably on my employment. I saw
I had made but a fool's bargain with Catriona. It was not to be
supposed that Neil was sent alone upon his errand, but perhaps he
was the only man belonging to James More; in which case I should
have done all I could to hang Catriona's father, and nothing the
least material to help myself. To tell the truth, I fancied
neither one of these ideas. Suppose by holding back Neil, the girl
should have helped to hang her father, I thought she would never
forgive herself this side of time. And suppose there were others
pursuing me that moment, what kind of a gift was I come bringing to
Alan? and how would I like that?
I was up with the west end of that wood when these two
considerations struck me like a cudgel. My feet stopped of
themselves and my heart along with them. "What wild game is this
that I have been playing?" thought I; and turned instantly upon my
heels to go elsewhere.
This brought my face to Silvermills; the path came past the village
with a crook, but all plainly visible; and, Highland or Lowland,
there was nobody stirring. Here was my advantage, here was just
such a conjuncture as Stewart had counselled me to profit by, and I
ran by the side of the mill-lade, fetched about beyond the east
corner of the wood, threaded through the midst of it, and returned
to the west selvage, whence I could again command the path, and yet
be myself unseen. Again it was all empty, and my heart began to
rise.
For more than an hour I sat close in the border of the trees, and
no hare or eagle could have kept a more particular watch.