Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1896-10-26

l.
unless we manage the better.
At this the lass turned and ran out
| of that part of the house, leaving us
| alone together Alan in high good humor
at the furthering of his schemes, and l
! in bitter dudgeon at being called a Jacob
| lite and treated like a child
"Alan," / cried, Il can stand no more
Of this
"Ye'Il have to sit it then, Davie,' said
| he 'For if We upset the pot now, We
may scrape your own life out of the fire,
| but Alan Breck is a dead man.
This was so true that l could only
groan; and even my groan served Alan's
| purpose, for it was overheard by the
lass as she came flying in again with a
dish of white buildings and bottle OF
strong ale.
Poor lambr' says she, and had no
sooner set the meat before us than she
touched me on the shoulder with little
| friendly touch, as much as to bid me
| cheer up. Then she told us to, fall to,
and there would be no more to pay; for
the inn was her own, or at least her
| fathers, and he was gone for the day
to Pittencrieff. We waited for no sec
ond bidding, for bread and cheese is
but cold comfort, and the buildings smelt
excellently we'll; and while we sat and
ate, she took up that same place by the
next table, looking on, and thinking, and
| frowning to herself, and drawing the
string of her apron through her hand.
I'm thinking ye have rather long
| tongue" she said at last to Alan.
'Ay," said Alan: ''but ye see | ken
! the folk l speak to-"
Il would never betray ye,' said she,
| eff We mean that
NO." said he, "ye're not that kind.
But I'll tell. ye what We would do, We
would help"
II couldnae," said she, shaking her
No I anI1ld
NO." said he, "but if We could?'
She answered him nothing.
"Look here, my lass" said Alan, 'there
are boats in the kingdom of Fife, for l
saw two mo less) upon the beach, as I
came in by your towns end. Now, if
| we could have the use of q boat to pass
under cloud of night into Lothian, and
| some secret, decent kind of a man to
! bring that boat back again and keep
| his counsel, there would be two souls
! saved-mine to all likelihOod-his to a
| dead surety. If we lack that boat, we
have but three shillings left in this wide
| world; and where to go, and how to do,
and what other place there is for us ex-
cept the chains of a gibbet-I give you
my naked word, | kenna! Shall we go
wanting, lassie? Are We to lie in your
warm bed and think upon us, when the
wind growls in the chimney and the rain
tirls on the roof? Are We to eat your
\
think upon this poor sick lad of mine,
biting his finger ends on blae muir for
cauld and hunger? Sick or sound, he
must aye be moving; with the death
grapple at his throat, he must aye be
trailing in the rain on the long roads
and when he giants his last on rickle
of cauld stones, there will be nae friends
near him but only me and God"
AT this appeal l could see the lass was
in great trouble of mind, being tempted
to help us, and yet in some fear she
might be helping malefactors; and so
to allay her scruples with a portion of
| the truth.
did you ever hear said I, "of Mr..
Rankeillor of the Queensferry?
"Rankeillor,. the writer?'' said she. Il
dare say thatr'
''Well," said I, ''it's to his door that l
am bound, so you may judge by that if
that though [ am indeed, by dreadful
error, in some peril of my life King
George has no truer friend in all Scot
land than myself
Her face cleared up nightly at this,
although Alan's darkened.
That's more than | would ask" said
she. "Mr. Rankeillor is a kermit man.
And she babe us finish our meat, get
! clear OF the clachan as soon as might
be- and lie close in the bit wood on the
sea-beach. ''And We can trust me" says
she; IN find some means to put you
over"
At this we waited for no more. but
shook hands with her upon the bargain,
made short work of tie buildings. and
| set forth again from Limekilns as far
as to the wood. 1t was small piece of
perhaps a score of elders and haWthorns,
and few young ashes, not thick enough
to veil us from passers-by upon the road
ri IL ora ST lin he
making the best of the brave warm
weather and the good hopes we now had
Of deliverance, and planning more par
ticularly what remained for us to do.
We had but one trouble all day-when
a strolling piper came and sat in the
same wood with us; a red-nosed, blear-
| eyed drunken dog, with great bottle
of whisky in his pocket, and a long
story of wrongs that had been done him
by all sorts of persons, from the lord
president of the court of session who had
denied him justice, down to the baillies
of Inverkeithing, who had given him
more of it than he desired It was i'm
possible but he should conceive some
suspicion of two men lying all day con-
cealed in a thicket and having no bust
ness to allege. AS long as he stayed
there he kept us in hot water with pry-
ing questions; and after he was gone,
as he was a man not very likely to hold
LIS lOuS ue, we were Ill the greater I'LL
patience to be gone ourselves.
The day came to an end with the
same brightness; the night fell quiet and
| clear; lights came out in houses and
! hamlets, and then, one after another,
began to be put out; but it was past IL,
and we were long since strangely tor
tured with anXieties, before we heard
the grinding of oars upon the rowing
pins. At that we looked out and saw
the lass herself coming rowing to us in
a boat. She had trusted no one with our
affairs, not even ner sweetheart, if she
had one; but as soon as her father was
asleep, had left the house by win
dow, stolen a neighbours boat, and come
to our assistance single-handed.
L was abashed how to find expression
for my thanks; but she was no less
abashed at the thought of hearing them:
begged us to lose no time and to hold
our peace, saying very properly that
the heart of our matter was in haste and
silence; and SO, what with one thing and
another, she had set us on the Lothian
shore not far from Garden, had shaken