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Updated: May 26, 2025
Colin!" he cried, hastening down to shake me by the hand, "come your ways in. I heard you got home yesterday, and I was sure you would give us a call in the by-going to-day. And you're little the waur of your jaunt-hale and hearty. We ken all about your prisoning; M'Iver was in last night and kept the crack going till morning a most humorous devil."
But we were never to reach this place of refuge, as it happened; for M'Iver, leading down the burn by a yard or two, had put his foot on the path running through the pass beside the three bridges, when he pulled back, blanching more in chagrin than apprehension. "Here they are," he said "We're too late; there's a band of them on the march up this way."
When I was a boy I was brought up loyally to our savage Highland tradition, that feuds were to carry on, and enemies to confound, and that no logic under heaven should keep the claymore in its sheath while an old grudge was to wipe out in blood or a wrong to right." "A most sensible and laudable doctrine!" cried M'Iver.
You made mention of my family's safety, and it was the last straw that broke the back of my resolution. One word of honest duty from you at that time had kept me in Inner-aora though Abijah's array and Jeroboam's horse and foot were coming down the glens." For a little M'Iver gave no answer, but sat in a chair of torture.
"What a fury!" said Master Gordon. "And that's the lady of omens! What about her blessing now?" "Ay, and what about her prophecies?" asked M'Iver, sharply. "She was not so far wrong, I'm thinking, about the risks of Inverlochy; the heather's above the gall indeed." "But at any rate," said I, "MacCailein's head is not on a pike." "You must be always on the old key," cried M'Iver, angrily.
I kissed her first on the night before M'Iver set out on his travels anew, no more in the camp of Argile his severed chief, but as a Cavalier of the purchased sword. It was a night of exceeding calm, with the moon, that I had seen as a corn-hook over my warfare with MacLachlan in Tarra-dubh, swollen to the full and gleaming upon the country till it shone as in the dawn of day.
MacLachlan restrained himself too, unwilling, no doubt, as I thought, to postpone his chase of the lady by so much time as a wrangle with John M'Iver would take up.
You must make the issue somewhat more politic than that." "I agree with you," I confessed; "it was stupid of me not to think of it, but what can I do? I have no other quarrel with the man." "Make one, then," said M'Iver.
I stopped and listened, with my inner head cracking to the strain, and as I was thus standing in wonder, a great form leaped out at me from the mist, and almost ran over me ere it lessened to the semblance of a man, and I had John M'Iver of Barbreck, a heated and hurried gentleman of arms, in my presence.
"So Judas thought too, I daresay, when he fingered his filthy shekels," said I. "I thought no man from Keppoch would be skulking aside here when his pipers blew the onset." "Och!" said M'Iver, "what need ye be talking? Bardery and bravery don't very often go together." Ian Lorn scowled blackly at the taunt, but was equal to answer it.
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