"
"Well, well," says Alan, holding her hand in his and viewing her,
"and so this is the young lady at the last of it! David, ye're an
awful poor hand of a description."
I do not know that ever I heard him speak so straight to people's
hearts; the sound of his voice was like song.
"What? will he have been describing me?" she cried.
"Little else of it since I ever came out of France!" says he,
"forby a bit of a speciment one night in Scotland in a shaw of wood
by Silvermills. But cheer up, my dear! ye're bonnier than what he
said. And now there's one thing sure; you and me are to be a pair
of friends. I'm a kind of a henchman to Davie here; I'm like a
tyke at his heels; and whatever he cares for, I've got to care for
too--and by the holy airn! they've got to care for me! So now you
can see what way you stand with Alan Breck, and ye'll find ye'll
hardly lose on the transaction. He's no very bonnie, my dear, but
he's leal to them he loves."
"I thank you from my heart for your good words," said she. "I have
that honour for a brave, honest man that I cannot find any to be
answering with.
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