“I don’t care what you say now. Your ideas are wider and bigger than mine, I suppose. I’m a more common sort of fellow, with only room in my head to think about what I’ve been taught and told to do. Perhaps you’re right, but I don’t see it.”
“I can’t give you up without one more try,” said Andrew, standing before him with his brow all in lines. “You say your father told you to stay and watch over your mother?”
“Yes; and I will.”
“But since then he has changed his opinions; he is on our side now, and I cannot but think that he would wish you to try and strike one blow for his— Bah!”
Andrew turned away in bitter contempt and rage, for strong in his determination not to be stung into a fresh quarrel, the boy he addressed, as soon as he heard his companion begin to reiterate his assertion that Sir Robert Gowan had gone over to the Pretender’s side, turned slowly away, and, with his elbows once more resting on the window-sill, thrust a finger into each ear, and stopped them tight. So effectually was this done, that he started round angrily on feeling a hand laid upon his shoulder.
“It’s of no use, Drew, I won’t— Oh, it’s you, Captain Murray!”
“Yes, my lad. Has he been saying things you don’t like?”
Frank nodded.
“Well, that’s one way of showing you don’t want to listen. Your mother wishes to see you, and you can go to her.”
“Ah!” cried the boy eagerly.