The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1893-01-01

think Of but two things, of a poor soul in
| the immediate and unjust danger of a
shameful death, and of the cries and tears
| OF his wife that still tingie in my head.
| cannot zee beyond my lord It's the way
| that am made. If the country has to fall
1t has TO fall And pray God, il this be
| wilfui blindness. that He may enlighten
| me before too late"
| He had heard me motionless, and stood
| 80 while longer.
This is an UNEXPECTED obstacle" says
he aloud, but to himself.
And how is your lordship TO dispose
| of metz / asked.
''If / wished" said he, "you know that
you might sleep in jail"
''My lord, have slept in worse places"
well, my boy" said he, ''.here is one
thing appears very plainly from your in
| teryiew that | may rely on your pledged
| word. Give me your honor that you will
be wholly secret. not only on what has
| passed tonight, but in the matter Of the
| Appip case, and let you gofree."
| Il will give 1t till tomorrow or any
| other near day that you may please to
set." said T.
Il would not be thought too willy; but
| if gave the promise without qualification
| your Iordship would have attained his
| end"
| 81 had no thought to entrap you"
| said be.
81 am sure of that" said I.
| LET me see." he continued. "Tomor-
| row is the Sabbath. Come to me on Mon
| day by in the morning, and give me
| your promise until then"
Freely given. my lord" said l. "And
| with regard to what has fallen from your
| self. | will give it for "a long as it shall
please God 10 spare your DAYS.
You will observe" he said next, that
have made no employment of menaces."
ct was like your lordships nobility"
said l. Yet am not altogether go dull
hut what can perceive the nature of those
you have not uttered"
WELL" said he, ''good night to you.
May you sleep well, for l think it is more
than | am like to do"
With that he sighed. took up a candle.
and gave me his conveyance as far as the
street door.
CHAPTER Wv THE ADVOCATES HOUSE,.
The next day, Sabbath, August q,
had the occasion / had long looked for
ward to. to hear some of the famous Edin-
burgh preachers, all well known to me AL
ready by the report of Mr.. Campbell.
Alas and might just as we'll have been
at Essendean, and sitting under Mr..
Campbell's worthy self! the turmoil of my
thoughts, which dwelt continually on the
interview with Prestongrange inhibitng
me from all attention. ] was indeed much
less impressed by the reasoning of the
divines than by the spectacle of the
thronged congregations in the churches.
like what l imagined of theater or Tin
my then dlsposition) of an assize of trial;
above all at the West Kirk, with its three
tiers of galleries, where / went in the vain
hope that might see Miss Drummond.
On the Monday l betook me for the first
time to BARRIERS and was very well pleased
with the result. Thence to the advocates,
where the red coats of the soldiers showed
again about his door, making q bright
place in the close. I looked about for the
young lady and her gillies; there was
never a sign of them. But was no sooner
shown into the cabinet or ante-chamber,
where l had spent 80 weary time upon
the Saturday. than | was aware of the tail
figure of James More in a corner. He
seemed q prey to a painful uneasiness,
reaching forth his feet and hands. and his
eyes speeding here and there without rest
about the walls of the small chamber,
which recalled to me with sense of pity
the mans wretched situation. / suppose
il was partly this and partly my strong
continuing interest in his daughter that
moved me to accost him.
"Give you good morning, sir" said l.
"And a good morning to you, SIR" said
"You bide tryst with Prestongrange2" 1
| asked.
II do, sir, and pray your business with
| that gentleman may be more agreeable
than NINE" was his reply.
81 hope, at least, that yours will be
brief, for | suppose that you pass before
| me-" said I.
"Al pass before me-" he said, with a
| shrug and a gesture upward OF the open
| hands. at was not always so. sir, bu.
| times change. II was not so when the
sword was in the scale, young gentleman.
| and the virtues of the soldier might sus-
| tain themselves"
Then came a kind of Highland shuttle
out of the man that raised my dander
| strangely.
well, Mr.. Maceregor." said I. 81 I'M
| derstand the main thing for a soldier is to
be silent. and the first of his virtues,
never to complain"
you have nv name, perceive"-he
| bowed to me with his arms crossed
though it's one must not use myself
| Well, there is a pUb!icity-I have shown
| my face and told my name too often in the
| boards of my enemies. | must not won-
der if both should be known to many that
! know not"
"That you know not in the least, sir"
|
name am called, if you care to hear it, is
| Bafour."
| at is a good name" he replied civillv:
| "there are many decent folk that use it,
| And now that l call to mind, there was a
| young gentleman, your namesake, that
marched surgeon in the year 45 with my
battalion"
| II believe that would be brother to
| Balfour of Bath" said l, for l was ready
| for the surgeon now.
THE same. SIR" said James More.
| "And since | have been fellow soldier
| with your kinsman you must suffer me to
| grasp your hand"
| He shook hands with me long and ten
| Derby, beaming on me the while as though
| he had found a brother.
| "Ahl" says he, these are changed DAYS
| since your cousin and / heard the balls
| whistle in our Tugs"
Il think he was a very far-away cousin"
said !. dryiv, land ! ought 10 tell you that
| | never clapped eyes upon the man"
| "Well, we'll" said he, ''it makes no
| change And vou--I do not think YOU
were ont yourself, sir--I have no clear
| mind of your face, which IS one not prob
| able to be forgotten"
"ln the year you refer To. Mr.. Macgregor,
| Twas getting skelped IN the parish school,"
| SAID l.
$50 voungi" cries he. AN, then, YOU
| will never he able TO think what this meet
| ing Is To me. In the hour OF nv adversely.
| and here IN the house OF my enemy, To
. meet IN with the blood of an old brother
I ~, haartaus NJ Raifnu-