I was infinitely taken with the spirit of the maid. "I could be

wishing I had brought you a spray of that heather," says I. "And,

though I did ill to speak with you at the first, now it seems we

have common acquaintance, I make it my petition you will not forget

me. David Balfour is the name I am known by. This is my lucky

day, when I have just come into a landed estate, and am not very

long out of a deadly peril. I wish you would keep my name in mind

for the sake of Balwhidder," said I, "and I will yours for the sake

of my lucky day."

"My name is not spoken," she replied, with a great deal of

haughtiness. "More than a hundred years it has not gone upon men's

tongues, save for a blink. I am nameless, like the Folk of Peace.

{3} Catriona Drummond is the one I use."

Now indeed I knew where I was standing. In all broad Scotland

there was but the one name proscribed, and that was the name of the

Macgregors. Yet so far from fleeing this undesirable acquaintancy,

I plunged the deeper in.

"I have been sitting with one who was in the same case with

yourself," said I, "and I think he will be one of your friends.

They called him Robin Oig."

"Did ye so?" cries she. "Ye met Rob?"

"I passed the night with him," said I.

"He is a fowl of the night," said she.

"There was a set of pipes there," I went on, "so you may judge if

the time passed."

"You should be no enemy, at all events," said she. "That was his

brother there a moment since, with the red soldiers round him. It

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