is him that I call father."

"Is it so?" cried I. "Are you a daughter of James More's?"

"All the daughter that he has," says she: "the daughter of a

prisoner; that I should forget it so, even for one hour, to talk

with strangers!"

Here one of the gillies addressed her in what he had of English, to

know what "she" (meaning by that himself) was to do about "ta

sneeshin." I took some note of him for a short, bandy-legged, red-

haired, big-headed man, that I was to know more of to my cost.

"There can be none the day, Neil," she replied. "How will you get

'sneeshin,' wanting siller! It will teach you another time to be

more careful; and I think James More will not be very well pleased

with Neil of the Tom."

"Miss Drummond," I said, "I told you I was in my lucky day. Here I

am, and a bank-porter at my tail. And remember I have had the

hospitality of your own country of Balwhidder."

"It was not one of my people gave it," said she.

"Ah, well," said I, "but I am owing your uncle at least for some

springs upon the pipes. Besides which, I have offered myself to be

your friend, and you have been so forgetful that you did not refuse

me in the proper time."

"If it had been a great sum, it might have done you honour," said

she; "but I will tell you what this is. James More lies shackled

in prison; but this time past they will be bringing him down here

daily to the Advocate's. . . ."

"The Advocate's!" I cried. "Is that . . . ?"

"It is the house of the Lord Advocate Grant of Prestongrange," said

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