“Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other, “My chief, let me tell you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate is in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers that collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and this money is a part of that very rent for which King George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how much of it’ll come to you?”
“Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “If they knew,” he added, dryly. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue about it.”
“Ah, but I’ll begowk[1] ye there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, and I’ll play you cunning. If a hand’s laid upon me, they shall ken what money it is.”
“Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and done. Here’s my hand upon it.”
“And here’s mine,” said the other.
And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and left me alone in the round-house with the stranger.
At that period (so soon after the forty-five) there were many exiled gentlemen coming back at the peril
- ↑ Befool.
