Catriona | Page 5

street to catch him; and
now we give him his snuff as he goes by, and now something else. And here is this son of
trouble, Neil, son of Duncan, has lost my four-penny piece that was to buy that snuff, and
James More must go wanting, and will think his daughter has forgotten him."
I took sixpence from my pocket, gave it to Neil, and bade him go about his errand. Then
to her, "That sixpence came with me by Balwhidder," said I.
"Ah!" she said, "you are a friend to the Gregara!"
"I would not like to deceive you, either," said I. "I know very little of the Gregara and
less of James More and his doings, but since the while I have been standing in this close,
I seem to know something of yourself; and if you will just say 'a friend to Miss Catriona'
I will see you are the less cheated."
"The one cannot be without the other," said she.
"I will even try," said I.
"And what will you be thinking of myself!" she cried, "to be holding my hand to the first
stranger!"
"I am thinking nothing but that you are a good daughter," said I.
"I must not be without repaying it," she said; "where is it you stop!"
"To tell the truth, I am stopping nowhere yet," said I, "being not full three hours in the
city; but if you will give me your direction, I will he no bold as come seeking my
sixpence for myself."
"Will I can trust you for that?" she asked.
"You need have little fear," said I.
"James More could not bear it else," said she. "I stop beyond the village of Dean, on the
north side of the water, with Mrs. Drummond-Ogilvy of Allardyce, who is my near friend
and will be glad to thank you."
"You are to see me, then, so soon as what I have to do permits," said I; and, the

remembrance of Alan rolling in again upon my mind, I made haste to say farewell.
I could not but think, even as I did so, that we had made extraordinary free upon short
acquaintance, and that a really wise young lady would have shown herself more
backward. I think it was the bank-porter that put me from this ungallant train of thought.
"I thoucht ye had been a lad of some kind o' sense," he began, shooting out his lips.
"Ye're no likely to gang far this gate. A fule and his siller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a
green callant!" he cried, "an' a veecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubeejoes!"
"If you dare to speak of the young lady. . . " I began.
"Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' THON a leddy? The toun's
fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, its weel seen ye're no very acquant in Embro!"
A clap of anger took me.
"Here," said I, "lead me where I told you, and keep your foul mouth shut!"
He did not wholly obey me, for, though he no more addressed me directly, he very
impudent sang at me as he went in a manner of innuendo, and with an exceedingly ill
voice and ear -
"As Mally Lee cam doun the street, her capuchin did flee, She cuist a look ahint her to
see her negligee. And we're a' gaun east and wast, we're a' gann ajee, We're a' gaun east
and wast courtin' Mally Lee."

CHAPTER II
--THE HIGHLAND WRITER
Mr. Charles Stewart the Writer dwelt at the top of the longest stair ever mason set a hand
to; fifteen flights of it, no less; and when I had come to his door, and a clerk had opened it,
and told me his master was within, I had scarce breath enough to send my porter packing.
"Awa' east and west wi' ye!" said I, took the money bag out of his hands, and followed
the clerk in.
The outer room was an office with the clerk's chair at a table spread with law papers. In
the inner chamber, which opened from it, a little brisk man sat poring on a deed, from
which he scarce raised his eyes on my entrance; indeed, he still kept his finger in the
place, as though prepared to show me out and fall again to his studies. This pleased me
little enough; and what pleased me less, I thought the clerk was in a good posture to
overhear what should pass between us.
I asked if he was Mr. Charles Stewart the Writer.
"The same," says he; "and, if the question is equally fair, who may you be yourself?"
"You never heard tell of my name nor of me either," said I, "but I