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"
Ha
!
"
says
he
,
"
that
's
nothing
.
Would
ye
believe
me
now
,
that
before
the
Act
came
out
,
and
when
there
were
weepons
in
this
country
,
I
could
shoot
?
Ay
,
could
I
!
"
cries
he
,
and
then
with
a
leer
:
"
If
ye
had
such
a
thing
as
a
pistol
here
to
try
with
,
I
would
show
ye
how
it
's
done
.
"
I
told
him
I
had
nothing
of
the
sort
,
and
gave
him
a
wider
berth
.
If
he
had
known
,
his
pistol
stuck
at
that
time
quite
plainly
out
of
his
pocket
,
and
I
could
see
the
sun
twinkle
on
the
steel
of
the
butt
.
But
by
the
better
luck
for
me
,
he
knew
nothing
,
thought
all
was
covered
,
and
lied
on
in
the
dark
.
He
then
began
to
question
me
cunningly
,
where
I
came
from
,
whether
I
was
rich
,
whether
I
could
change
a
five-shilling
piece
for
him
(
which
he
declared
he
had
that
moment
in
his
sporran
)
,
and
all
the
time
he
kept
edging
up
to
me
and
I
avoiding
him
.
We
were
now
upon
a
sort
of
green
cattle-track
which
crossed
the
hills
towards
Torosay
,
and
we
kept
changing
sides
upon
that
like
dancers
in
a
reel
.
I
had
so
plainly
the
upper-hand
that
my
spirits
rose
,
and
indeed
I
took
a
pleasure
in
this
game
of
blindman
's
buff
;
but
the
catechist
grew
angrier
and
angrier
,
and
at
last
began
to
swear
in
Gaelic
and
to
strike
for
my
legs
with
his
staff
.
Then
I
told
him
that
,
sure
enough
,
I
had
a
pistol
in
my
pocket
as
well
as
he
,
and
if
he
did
not
strike
across
the
hill
due
south
I
would
even
blow
his
brains
out
.
He
became
at
once
very
polite
,
and
after
trying
to
soften
me
for
some
time
,
but
quite
in
vain
,
he
cursed
me
once
more
in
Gaelic
and
took
himself
off
.
I
watched
him
striding
along
,
through
bog
and
brier
,
tapping
with
his
stick
,
until
he
turned
the
end
of
a
hill
and
disappeared
in
the
next
hollow
.
Then
I
struck
on
again
for
Torosay
,
much
better
pleased
to
be
alone
than
to
travel
with
that
man
of
learning
.
This
was
an
unlucky
day
;
and
these
two
,
of
whom
I
had
just
rid
myself
,
one
after
the
other
,
were
the
two
worst
men
I
met
with
in
the
Highlands
.
At
Torosay
,
on
the
Sound
of
Mull
and
looking
over
to
the
mainland
of
Morven
,
there
was
an
inn
with
an
innkeeper
,
who
was
a
Maclean
,
it
appeared
,
of
a
very
high
family
;
for
to
keep
an
inn
is
thought
even
more
genteel
in
the
Highlands
than
it
is
with
us
,
perhaps
as
partaking
of
hospitality
,
or
perhaps
because
the
trade
is
idle
and
drunken
.
He
spoke
good
English
,
and
finding
me
to
be
something
of
a
scholar
,
tried
me
first
in
French
,
where
he
easily
beat
me
,
and
then
in
the
Latin
,
in
which
I
do
n't
know
which
of
us
did
best
.
This
pleasant
rivalry
put
us
at
once
upon
friendly
terms
;
and
I
sat
up
and
drank
punch
with
him
(
or
to
be
more
correct
,
sat
up
and
watched
him
drink
it
)
,
until
he
was
so
tipsy
that
he
wept
upon
my
shoulder
.
I
tried
him
,
as
if
by
accident
,
with
a
sight
of
Alan
's
button
;
but
it
was
plain
he
had
never
seen
or
heard
of
it
.
Indeed
,
he
bore
some
grudge
against
the
family
and
friends
of
Ardshiel
,
and
before
he
was
drunk
he
read
me
a
lampoon
,
in
very
good
Latin
,
but
with
a
very
ill
meaning
,
which
he
had
made
in
elegiac
verses
upon
a
person
of
that
house
.
When
I
told
him
of
my
catechist
,
he
shook
his
head
,
and
said
I
was
lucky
to
have
got
clear
off
.
"
That
is
a
very
dangerous
man
,
"
he
said
;
"
Duncan
Mackiegh
is
his
name
;
he
can
shoot
by
the
ear
at
several
yards
,
and
has
been
often
accused
of
highway
robberies
,
and
once
of
murder
.
"
"
The
cream
of
it
is
,
"
says
I
,
"
that
he
called
himself
a
catechist
.
"
"
And
why
should
he
not
?
"
says
he
,
"
when
that
is
what
he
is
.
It
was
Maclean
of
Duart
gave
it
to
him
because
he
was
blind
