affair, that the heart of the public might have no more than the
sufferings of individuals to hurt it.--Thus ended a year, on many
accounts, heavy to be remembered.



CHAPTER XXIII YEAR 1782



Although I have not been particular in noticing it, from time to
time, there had been an occasional going off, at fairs and on
market-days, of the lads of the parish as soldiers, and when Captain
Malcolm got the command of his ship, no less than four young men
sailed with him from the clachan; so that we were deeper and deeper
interested in the proceedings of the doleful war that was raging in
the plantations. By one post we heard of no less than three brave
fellows belonging to us being slain in one battle, for which there
was a loud and general lamentation.

Shortly after this, I got a letter from Charles Malcolm, a very
pretty letter it indeed was: he had heard of my Lord Eaglesham's
murder, and grieved for the loss, both because his lordship was a
good man, and because he had been such a friend to him and his
family. "But," said Charles, "the best way I can show my gratitude
for his patronage, is to prove myself a good officer to my king and
country." Which I thought a brave sentiment, and was pleased
thereat; for somehow Charles, from the time he brought me the limes
to make a bowl of punch, in his pocket from Jamaica, had built a
nest of affection in my heart. But, oh! the wicked wastry of life