“That would remain to be seen, but in any case it would be absurd for you to be there. But it has given me a new idea, sweet child. They would be glad of my services; and, as they are protestants, they would be only too pleased to look after you in return.”
“But I want to come with you.”
He looked at her sadly; “It is out of the question,” he said.
“Oh, but please let me.”
“No, birdeen, you might be killed.”
“Well, that would not matter. I have no friends or relatives in the world to care for me; it might be the simplest solution of our difficulties, if I died trying to help a good cause.”
“You must not talk like that, Aline; I cannot bear to think of it.”
“But I have made up my mind. I am coming. You might be wounded and I might be just the one to help you and prevent your dying.” She drew herself up as she spoke and Ian knew that further argument was useless.
“In that case we can wait and rest here, in any wise for to-day, the which we both need. I can then go and see the Earl to-morrow and probably we can continue to rest for some days while he is recruiting his forces.”
They retired early. Aline had a little room with a glorious outlook. Oh, how beautiful everything was and how good God had been to her. When she was half undressed she sat down and gazed out of the window. So this was dear Scotland again, the land of her birth. For the moment the recollection of “Moll o’ the graves” clouded the prospect, but it passed away. The sombre hills looked kindly in the gloaming. She felt hardly able to contain herself for joy.