“As my duty appears to me, sir, it is to save people’s lives without regard to who they are, and what their business is.”
“If the Pretender should come—”
“He would go as he came,” said Annie, quietly. “He would get nothing here that could hurt the king, while the men of the island are gone to Inverness.”
“Well, to be sure, if you would succour and comfort pirates, there is nobody whom you would not help.”
“That is true, sir.”
“But it is very dangerous, Mrs Fleming. Do you know the consequences of aiding the enemy?”
“I know the consequences of there being no light above the harbour,” said Annie, in a low voice.
The steward knew it was useless to say more. He thought it better to put into her hand some newspapers which contained a startling account of the progress of the rebels, embellished with many terrifying fictions of their barbarity, such as were greedily received by the alarmists of the time.
“Here,” said he. “You can look these over while I go to speak to Macdonald about removing the lady to some remoter place while we have only women on the island. Pray look over these papers, and then you will see what sort of people you may chance to bring upon your neighbours, if you persist in burning your lamp. But Sir Alexander must put forth his authority—even use force, if necessary. What do you say to that?”
“Some old words,” said Annie, smiling, “given to those who are brought before governors. It shall be given me in that same hour what I shall speak.”