James More's disgraces. And the next moment he was just himself

again.

"And now by your leave, my dawties," said he, "this is a' very

bonny; but Alan Breck'll be a wee thing nearer to the gallows than

he's caring for; and Dod! I think this is a grand place to be

leaving."

The word recalled us to some wisdom. Alan ran upstairs and

returned with our saddle-bags and James More's portmanteau; I

picked up Catriona's bundle where she had dropped it on the stair;

and we were setting forth out of that dangerous house, when Bazin

stopped the way with cries and gesticulations. He had whipped

under a table when the swords were drawn, but now he was as bold as

a lion. There was his bill to be settled, there was a chair

broken, Alan had sat among his dinner things, James More had fled.

"Here," I cried, "pay yourself," and flung him down some Lewie

d'ors; for I thought it was no time to be accounting.

He sprang upon that money, and we passed him by, and ran forth into

the open. Upon three sides of the house were seamen hasting and

closing in; a little nearer to us James More waved his hat as if to

hurry them; and right behind him, like some foolish person holding

up his hands, were the sails of the windmill turning.

Alan gave but one glance, and laid himself down to run. He carried

a great weight in James More's portmanteau; but I think he would as

soon have lost his life as cast away that booty which was his

revenge; and he ran so that I was distressed to follow him, and

marvelled and exulted to see the girl bounding at my side.

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