“The same,” returned Jerome, “may be said of all savages, Miss Delia.”
Sir Perseus interposed:
“But I think the fellow is to be trusted, and who but a born Highlander could traverse this chaotic country with safety and advantage?”
Jerome Caryl shrugged his shoulders and stirred the log on the hearth with the toe of his boot.
“Well, let the matter rest. Only the thing must be done if we are to defeat Breadalbane and the Master of Stair.”
Sir Perseus laughed: “Why, I believe you dislike the Secretary as much as the Edinburgh mob do.”
“I hate his power,” answered Jerome. “The way he rules us all against our will—he and he only prevents Scotland returning to King James—”
“They do say he is accursed of a cursed family,” said Delia. “There are horrid mysteries whispered of him—you have heard?”
“Yes, and I do not think them all vulgar spite—they are a dark race, these Dalrymples,” answered Jerome.
There was a pause, then Delia spoke: “Have you ever seen him?” she asked.