Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

I  TALK  WITH   ALAN   IN   THE   WOOD.              l69
sleeping. So when the man woke, there was a poke
beside him and something into the inside of it that
moved. Well, it seems he was one of these gentry
that think aye the worst of things ; and for greater
security, he stuck his dirk throughout that poke before
he opened it, and there was his bairn dead. I am
thinking to myself, Mr. Balfour, that you and the man
are very much alike."
"Do you mean you had no hand in it?" cried I,
sitting up.
"I will tell you first of all, Mr. Balfour of Shaws,
as one friend to another," said Alan, "that if I were
going to kill a gentleman, it would not be in my own
country, to bring trouble on my clan ; and I would not
go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing-rod
upon my back."
"Well," said I, "that's true!"
"And now," continued Alan, taking out his dirk
and laying his hand upon it in a certain manner, "I
swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art nor part,
act nor thought in it."
"I thank God for that!" cried I, and offered him
my hand.
He did not appear to see it.
"And here is a great deal of work about a Camp-
bell!" said he. "They are not so scarce, that I
ken!"
"At least," said I, "you cannot justly blame me, for
you know very well what you told me in the brig. But