"My name is Donald Grant, and I am from Glenmoriston," said the other.
"A Grant," sniffed Cameron; "well, well, we canna all be Camerons."
He drew up his legs and sat with his elbows on his knees.
"What is your news?" he asked. "Is it of the Prince?"
"Partly—and partly not."
"That's a braw answer," snapped Cameron. "It's unco like maybe, and maybe no. Ye're muckle confidential, you Grants."
"I have a letter," said he, "from one well known to ye—Rob Fraser."
"Rob Fraser! I ken nane o' that name. Oh, bide a wee! Ye mean a laddie?"
Grant nodded.
"That same," he replied.