He thrust away his glass once and for all, and sat straight up in the
chair where he had been previously lolling. "What am I to understand?"
said he.

"_A tall strong lad of about eighteen_," I quoted, "_speaks like a
Lowlander, and has no beard_."

"I recognise those words," said he, "which, if you have come here with
any ill-judged intention of amusing yourself, are like to prove
extremely prejudicial to your safety."

"My purpose in this," I replied, "is just entirely as serious as life
and death, and you have understood me perfectly. I am the boy who was
speaking with Glenure when he was shot."

"I can only suppose (seeing you here) that you claim to be innocent,"
said he.

"The inference is clear," I said. "I am a very loyal subject to King
George, but if I had anything to reproach myself with, I would have had
more discretion than to walk into your den."

"I am glad of that," said he. "This horrid crime, Mr. Balfour, is of a
dye which cannot permit any clemency. Blood has been barbarously shed.
It has been shed in direct opposition to his Majesty and our whole frame
of laws, by those who are their known and public oppugnants. I take a
very high sense of this. I will not deny that I consider the crime as
directly personal to his Majesty."