“Sam, you put that in yourself,” said Angus.
“Atweel, Sir, Mrs Kezia said she hoped they’d be gude lassies, and discreet—that’s as true as my father’s epitaph.”
“Where is Miss Osborne gone, Sam?” asked Flora.
“Gin naebody wants to ken mair than me, Miss Flora, there’ll no be mickle speiring. I’m only sure o’ ane place where she’ll no be gane, I’m thinkin’, and that’s Heaven.”
“You don’t seem to me to have fallen in love with her, Sam,” said Angus, who appeared exceedingly amused.
“Is’t me, Sir? Ma certie, but gin there were naebody in this haill warld but her an’ me, I’d tak’ a lodging for her in the finest street I could find i’ London toun, an’ I’d be aff mysel’ to the Orkneys by the neist ship as left the docks. I wad, sae!”
Angus laughed till he cried, and Flora and I were no much better. He went at once to Monksburn, and came back with tidings that the Laird was very glad of the opportunity to send Annas southwards. And when my Uncle Drummond came in, though his lip trembled and her eyes pleaded earnestly, he said Flora must go too.
And to-night Mr Keith brought news that men were up all over the Highlands, and that the Prince was marching on Perth.
My Uncle Drummond says we must go at once—there is not to be a day’s delay that can be helped. Mr Keith and Angus are both to join the Prince as soon as they can be ready. My Uncle will go with us himself to Hawick, and then Sam will go on with us to Carlisle, where we are to wait one day, while Sam rides over to Brocklebank to fetch and exchange such things as we may need, and if we can hear of any friend of Father’s or my Uncle’s who is going south, we are to join their convoy. The Laird of Monksburn sends one of his men with us; and both he and Sam will be well armed. I am sure I hope there will be no occasion for the arms.