“And whose fault it it that I have not done so too?” said Bucklaw—­“whose but the devil’s and yours, and such-like as you, that have led me to the far end of a fair estate?  And now I shall be obliged, I suppose, to shelter and shift about like yourself:  live one week upon a line of secret intelligence from Saint Germains; another upon a report of a rising in the Highlands; get my breakfast and morning draught of sack from old Jacobite ladies, and give them locks of my old wig for the Chevalier’s hair; second my friend in his quarrel till he comes to the field, and then flinch from him lest so important a political agent should perish from the way.  All this I must do for bread, besides calling myself a captain!”

“You think you are making a fine speech now,” said Craigengelt, “and showing much wit at my expense.  Is starving or hanging better than the life I am obliged to lead, because the present fortunes of the king cannot sufficiently support his envoys?” “Starving is honester, Craigengelt, and hanging is like to be the end on’t.  But what you mean to make of this poor fellow Ravenswood, I know not.  He has no money left, any more than I; his lands are all pawned and pledged, and the interest eats up the rents, and is not satisfied, and what do you hope to make by meddling in his affairs?”

“Content yourself, Bucklaw; I know my business,” replied Craigengelt.  “Besides that his name, and his father’s services in 1689, will make such an acquisition sound well both at Versailles and Saint Germains, you will also please be informed that the Master of Ravenswood is a very different kind of a young fellow from you.  He has parts and address, as well as courage and talents, and will present himself abroad like a young man of head as well as heart, who knows something more than the speed of a horse or the flight of a hawk.  I have lost credit of late, by bringing over no one that had sense to know more than how to unharbour a stag, or take and reclaim an eyas.  The Master has education, sense, and penetration.”

“And yet is not wise enough to escape the tricks of a kidnapper, Craigengelt?” replied the younger man.  “But don’t be angry; you know you will nto fight, and so it is as well to leave your hilt in peace andquiet, and tell me in sober guise how you drew the Master into your confidence?”

“By flattering his love of vengeance, Bucklaw,” answered Craigengelt.  “He has always distrusted me; but I watched my time, and struck while his temper was red-hot with the sense of insult and of wrong.  He goes now to expostulate, as he says, and perhaps thinks, with Sir William Ashton.  I say, that if they meet, and the lawyer puts him to his defence, the Master will kill him; for he had that sparkle in his eye which never deceives you when you would read a man’s purpose.  At any rate, he will give him such a bullying as will be construed into an assault on a privy councillor; so there will be a total breach betwixt him and government.  Scotland will be too hot for him; France will gain him; and we will all set sail together in the French brig ‘L’Espoir,’ which is hovering for us off Eyemouth.”