Catriona's grey eyes shone in my remembrance. I thought, with a
bound of pleasure, she must be the friend. But who should the
writer be, to have her billet thus enclosed with Prestongrange's?
And of all wonders, why was it thought needful to give me this
pleasing but most inconsequent intelligence upon the Bass? For the
writer, I could hit upon none possible except Miss Grant. Her
family, I remembered, had remarked on Catriona's eyes and even
named her for their colour; and she herself had been much in the
habit to address me with a broad pronunciation, by way of a sniff,
I supposed, at my rusticity. No doubt, besides, but she lived in
the same house as this letter came from. So there remained but one
step to be accounted for; and that was how Prestongrange should
have permitted her at all in an affair so secret, or let her daft-
like billet go in the same cover with his own. But even here I had
a glimmering. For, first of all, there was something rather
alarming about the young lady, and papa might be more under her
domination than I knew. And, second, there was the man's continual
policy to be remembered, how his conduct had been continually
mingled with caresses, and he had scarce ever, in the midst of so
much contention, laid aside a mask of friendship. He must conceive
that my imprisonment had incensed me. Perhaps this little jesting,
friendly message was intended to disarm my rancour?
I will be honest--and I think it did. I felt a sudden warmth
towards that beautiful Miss Grant, that she should stoop to so much
interest in my affairs. The summoning up of Catriona moved me of
itself to milder and more cowardly counsels. If the Advocate knew
of her and our acquaintance--if I should please him by some of that
"discretion" at which his letter pointed--to what might not this
lead! IN VAIN IS THE NET PREPARED IN THE SIGHT OF ANY FOWL, the
Scripture says. Well, fowls must be wiser than folk! For I
thought I perceived the policy, and yet fell in with it.
I was in this frame, my heart beating, the grey eyes plain before
me like two stars, when Andie broke in upon my musing.
"I see ye has gotten guid news," said he.
I found him looking curiously in my face; with that there came
before me like a vision of James Stewart and the court of Inverary;
and my mind turned at once like a door upon its hinges. Trials, I
reflected, sometimes draw out longer than is looked for. Even if I
came to Inverary just too late, something might yet be attempted in
the interests of James--and in those of my own character, the best
would be accomplished. In a moment, it seemed without thought, I
had a plan devised.
"Andie," said I, "is it still to be to-morrow?"
He told me nothing was changed.
"Was anything said about the hour?" I asked.
He told me it was to be two o'clock afternoon.
"And about the place?" I pursued.
"Whatten place?" says Andie.
"The place I am to be landed at?" said I.
He owned there was nothing as to that.
"Very well, then," I said, "this shall be mine to arrange. The
wind is in the east, my road lies westward: keep your boat, I hire
it; let us work up the Forth all day; and land me at two o'clock
to-morrow at the westmost we'll can have reached."
"Ye daft callant!" he cried; "ye would try for Inverary after a'!"
"Just that, Andie," says I.
"Weel, ye're ill to beat!" says he. "And I was a kind o' sorry for
ye a' day yesterday," he added. "Ye see, I was never entirely sure
till then, which way of it ye really wantit."
Here was a spur to a lame horse!
"A word in your ear, Andie," said I. "This plan of mine has
another advantage yet. We can leave these Hielandman behind us on
the rock, and one of your boats from the Castleton can bring them
off to-morrow. Yon Neil has a queer eye when he regards you;
maybe, if I was once out of the gate there might be knives again;
these red-shanks are unco grudgeful.