David, only
just that he would sail upon this very same ship. And why it is
you go?"
I told her.
"Ah, well," said she, "we will be some days in company and then (I
suppose) good-bye for altogether! I go to meet my father at a
place of the name of Helvoetsluys, and from there to France, to be
exiles by the side of our chieftain."
I could say no more than just "O!" the name of James More always
drying up my very voice.
She was quick to perceive it, and to guess some portion of my
thought.
"There is one thing I must be saying first of all, Mr. David," said
she. "I think two of my kinsfolk have not behaved to you
altogether very well. And the one of them two is James More, my
father, and the other is the Laird of Prestongrange. Prestongrange
will have spoken by himself, or his daughter in the place of him.
But for James More, my father, I have this much to say: he lay
shackled in a prison; he is a plain honest soldier and a plain
Highland gentleman; what they would be after he would never be
guessing; but if he had understood it was to be some prejudice to a
young gentleman like yourself, he would have died first.
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