The Washington times., 1913-01-06
CHAPTER u.-(CoutinuedD

his eyes twinkling as they rested
on me and the sword. when an enemy
mak's ye laugh in spite o. yerser it's
hard t be serious WI yer enemy. For
bye, ye're no enemy O. mine that ken
O.. But I'm gey sorry for ye."
"And why?"
'Weel." said my father uneasily, "the
laird's a hard man, an it's yon We will
hae the dealin' WIZ
"Ah?' said Don John, and that pale
shadow of WEAKNESS returned TO his
face.
But it was not there long. Presently
he began to whistle his lilt, and when
ne came to the yard. and Caesar. our
said word or two In strange tongue,
and Caesars ears stood erect. Next
minute the old dog and the Spaniard
were as friendly as bees and butter
cups. And when we came into the farm
kitchen and my father said to my
mother, "Roire has brought home a
strange cow" she Just looked into Don
Johns face for a moment or two, then
said quietly:
.'win ye hae a sup o. meat, my lord?''
In that moment l knew that, what
ever his faults might be, Don John was
a good man as women judge.
My mother hustled around and set
out her best on the secured board.
There was a bowl of porridge and a
bowl of hot milk, and there weye hot
scenes and fresh and kept butter. And
for some reason not then clear to my
young mind. Don Johns eyes filled with
sudden tears when my mother said:
1T may not be what ye will be used
to my. lord, but wad ye hae an oat-
He caught my mothers hand and
bent to kiss it; but she pulled it away
and ran into the byre with a brakx
blush on her face, for this way OF
showing gratitude is a thing our people
very grave, and presently he said to
me:
''Rorie, will YOU tell Mistress Maclean
that hope l have done no offense, for
1 swear i would like that oatcake."
That completely won my mother She
sent In two or three bannocks, for she
was busy in the byre, milking; and
while Don John and / were eating them
with butter and honey, he asked me
about the laird.
l said. He seemed to catch my mean
ing. for he went on:
Did any of my friends come ashore
alive?'
AYE" was all 1 could say, for my
mouth was full.
What has become of them?''
Now, how could / say "hangit' to
a man like Don John? So ventured
no answer and crammed my mouth full
of oatcake until my face must have
oner siged: but in a little while he
leaned back, satisfied with his meat.
and began 10 hum his tune. By and by
my father came in from the byre with
the milk pals and said:
Hay. Rorie, ye would best be gone.
Y'are late. lad, and the laird will not
be patient man."
Don John stopped humming and look
ed. first at me. then at my father.
Its as You please" said my father
long. If ye care T. gang as ye came, II
viii no be me nor Rorie that's seen ye
ava. but and We stop the laird will
chairge me wi shieldin' an enemy O
the land"
Il am at your command" said Don
John.
Its as pleases yersel'. but the laird'll
find We hereaboot sooner than there
sboot. It's go the road ye cam or face
the laird in his cas'le." .s-..
SO be tt" said Don John, bracing
his shoulders as he stood up, Ana the
sooner the better"
''He hangit yer friends" said my
father in a tone that neither commend
ed nor condemned the act
No fear crossed Don Johns face, only
a momentary look of great sadness.
Then his eyes flashed and he smiled.
We shall see if he hang me-" he
said.
$50 be it." said my father. He
turned to my mother, VINO had entered
after him, and said: Bring q drain,
As Don John lifted his cup he said;
BE it short memory, or long
enc. ! shall not forget"
The two msn drank. Ny moIher
wiped away a tear, and presently Don
John and / were on the road TO the
castle. His sword swung at his side,
for II was not in my heart to keep II
from such fine gentleman; forbye, as
he said after / had given IL to him, II
might have looked to the laird as f he
angied mercy through a child
When we came to the point OF the
clachan road, where IL branched on tc
the left, Don John came to a halt and
looked at the bay. There lay all that
was left of La Trinidad-as he said
the Spanish snip had been called-a
ribbed thing like a great bird-cleaned
fish, but charred to blackness. Score:
of ruen from the clachan-and women
too-were prowling along the beach
rifiing the dead. In the big elms nj
the beginning of the castle wood, the
sunlight glowed upon seven or eight
corpses that dangled and tossed in the
crossed himself, and stood for while
IN silence. ] think he was praying.
"A sad, sad night, Rorie," said ht
liushily, after a while.
He passed a hand over his eyes as
e turned into the woods. and presently
he whistled softly; but ! think his
heart was not back of his lifting air. OF
else he piped to brace himself for the
laird.
AS We rounded turn of the path,
we came upon Mistress Mary. who was
walking toward US with her chin low
and her hands clasped before her. i
had never seen her look SO bonny as on
this morning. Although seeming SAD,
the sun CLOSED her brown hair. and
the breeze played with the white
feather In her highland bonnet. Her
arms were bare, and lay, white and
shapely. against the plaid skirt that
scarce reached her ankles. Her bosom
white stun that was brought together
by a silver brooch. which also held d
bit of fresh heather.
Daon John stopped as IL he beheld "a
wrath. And, certes, she was like some
spirit of the summer moors. flushed
and as lovely I'm grand simplicity. Full
OF life as a happy burn in spring. she
still minded one of the placid lake
where the currents move unseen. AS
a man. ! write of a vivid memory OF
her.
She became aware of US when She
was still little way OF. 1 say "us. Il"
but think her eyes saw only Don
John. and into them leapt a look of
sorrow and fear. Her first words
showed that the fear was for him.
oh. sirrah!' she cried; 'if you love
life-hide"'
Don John said nothing-onlv looked
at the bonny woman before him with
wondering admiration.
"Rorie." said Mistress Mary to me,
has he not got the Sassenach tongue?"
Whether Don Johns tongue could be