"
James seemed to cast about for a moment in his mind; but it's to be
thought he had enough of Alan's swordsmanship, for he suddenly put
off his hat to us and (with a face like one of the damned) bade us
farewell in a series. With which he was gone.
At the same time a spell was lifted from me.
"Catriona," I cried, "it was me--it was my sword. O, are you much
hurt?"
"I know it, Davie, I am loving you for the pain of it; it was done
defending that bad man, my father. See!" she said, and showed me a
bleeding scratch, "see, you have made a man of me now. I will
carry a wound like an old soldier."
Joy that she should be so little hurt, and the love of her brave
nature, supported me. I embraced her, I kissed the wound.
"And am I to be out of the kissing, me that never lost a chance?"
says Alan; and putting me aside and taking Catriona by either
shoulder, "My dear," he said, "you're a true daughter of Alpin. By
all accounts, he was a very fine man, and he may weel be proud of
you. If ever I was to get married, it's the marrow of you I would
be seeking for a mother to my sons.
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