On the morning of October 1st I was awakened by the clattering in
of an express; and getting to my window almost before he had
dismounted, I saw the messenger had ridden hard. Somewhile after I
was called to Prestongrange, where he was sitting in his bedgown
and nightcap, with his letters round him.
"Mr. David," add he, "I have a piece of news for you. It concerns
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.
"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 mock
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 must be 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
Prestongrange.
"And what is my lord pleased to mean by that?" I asked.
"I was just marvelling", he replied, "that being so clever as to
draw these inferences, you should not be clever enough to keep them
to yourself. But I think you would like to hear the details of the
affair. I have received two versions: and the least official is
the more full and far the more entertaining, being from the lively
pen of my eldest daughter. 'Here is all the town bizzing with a
fine piece of work,' she writes, 'and what would make the thing
more noted (if it were only known) the malefactor is a protegee of
his lordship my papa. I am sure your heart is too much in your
duty (if it were nothing else) to have forgotten Grey Eyes. What
does she do, but get a broad hat with the flaps open, a long hairy-
like man's greatcoat, and a big gravatt; kilt her coats up to GUDE
KENS WHAUR, clap two pair of boot-hose upon her legs, take a pair
of CLOUTED BROGUES {15} in her hand, and off to the Castle! Here
she gives herself out to be a soutar {16} in the employ of James
More, and gets admitted to his cell, the lieutenant (who seems to
have been full of pleasantry) making sport among his soldiers of
the soutar's greatcoat.