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Then she turned to me. "He swears it is not," she said.
"Catriona," said I, "do you believe the man yourself?"
She made a gesture like wringing the hands.
"How will I can know?" she cried.
But I must find some means to know," said I. "I cannot continue to
go dovering round in the black night with two men's lives at my
girdle! Catriona, try to put yourself in my place, as I vow to God
I try hard to put myself in yours. This is no kind of talk that
should ever have fallen between me and you; no kind of talk; my
heart is sick with it. See, keep him here till two of the morning,
and I care not. Try him with that."
They spoke together once more in the Gaelic.
"He says he has James More my father's errand," said she. She was
whiter than ever, and her voice faltered as she said it.
"It is pretty plain now," said I, "and may God forgive the wicked!"
She said never anything to that, but continued gazing at me with
the same white face.
"This is a fine business," said I again. "Am I to fall, then, and
those two along with me?"
"O, what am I to do?" she cried.


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