CONTENTS
[CHAPTER I. HEIRESS AND HEIR]
[CHAPTER II. THE MAIDENS' COVE]
[CHAPTER III. THE BOTHY]
[CHAPTER IV. BY FORCE OF ARMS]
[CHAPTER V. PATSY'S CONFESSIONS]
[CHAPTER VI. HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS]
[CHAPTER VII. THE LADS IN THE HEATHER]
[CHAPTER VIII. THE BLACK PEARL OF CAIRN FERRIS]
[CHAPTER IX. HIS LIFE IN HIS HAND]
[CHAPTER X. THE WICKED LAYETH A SNARE]
[CHAPTER XI. THE TRAMPLING OF HORSE IN THE NIGHT]
[CHAPTER XII. PATSY'S RESCUE]
[CHAPTER XIII. PLOTS AND PRINCES]
[CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF AN OLD FEUD]
[CHAPTER XV. THE FECHTIN' FOOL]
[CHAPTER XVI. A RIDER COMES TO CASTLE RAINCY]
[CHAPTER XVII. PATSY HELD IN HONOUR]
[CHAPTER XVIII. UNCLE JULIAN'S PRINCESS]
[CHAPTER XIX. MISS ALINE TAKES COMMAND]
[CHAPTER XX. LOUIS RAINCY ENDURES HARDNESS]
[CHAPTER XXI. THE CAVE OF ADULLAM]
[CHAPTER XXII. WINTER AFTERNOON]
[CHAPTER XXIII. PATSY HAS GREATNESS THRUST UPON HER]
[CHAPTER XXIV. THE LOST FOLK'S ACRE]
[CHAPTER XXV. THE HIGH STILE]
[CHAPTER XXVI. THE GIBBET RING]
[CHAPTER XXVII. THE DUKES ... AND SUPSORROW]
[CHAPTER XXVIII. THE "GREEN DRAGON"]
[CHAPTER XXIX. ENEMY'S COUNTRY]
[CHAPTER XXX. A CREDIT TO THE "GREEN DRAGON"]
[CHAPTER XXXI. THE NIGHT LANDING]
[CHAPTER XXXII. ORDEAL BY FIRE]
[CHAPTER XXXIII. PATSY RAISES THE COUNTRY]
[CHAPTER XXXIV. THE PRISON-BREAKERS]
[CHAPTER XXXV. THE PICTS' WAY IS THE WOMAN'S WAY]
[CHAPTER XXXVI. STIFF-NECKED AND REBELLIOUS]
[CHAPTER XXXVII. A PICTISH HONEYMOON]
[CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE LAND OF ALWAYS AFTERNOON]
[CHAPTER XXXIX. REBEL GALLOWAY]
[CHAPTER XL. "WHY DO THEY LOVE YOU?"]
[CHAPTER XLI. THE BATTLE OF THE CAUSEWAY]
CHAPTER I
HEIRESS AND HEIR
They stood high on the Abbey cliff-edge—an old man, eagle-profiled, hawk-beaked, cockatoo-crested, with angry grey eyebrows running peakily upwards towards his temples at either side ... and a boy.
They were the Earl Raincy and his grandson Louis—all the world knew them in that country of the Southern Albanach. For Leo Raincy was a great man, and the lad the heir of all he possessed.
For all—or almost all—they looked upon belonged to the Earl of Raincy. Even those blue hills bounding the meadow valleys to the north hid a fair half of his property, and he was sorry for that. Because he was a land miser, hoarding parishes and townships. He grudged the sea its fringe of foam, the three-mile fishing limit, the very high-and-low mark between the tides which was not his, but belonged to the crown—along which the common people had a right to pass, and where fisherfolk from the neighbouring villages might fish and dry their nets, when all ought to have been his.