Her voice was of soft and gentle _timbre_, soothing and tranquillizing
even at this heated moment, as she turned to her son and said:--

"Oh, me bairn, me bonnie bairn, could ye no' stay wi' us a while longer?
It is sair and lonely wi'out ye here, and Prince Chairlie has many mair
to fight for him. Can ye not stay wi' us?"

"No, mother dear; much as I should like to be wi' ye all, I fear I
cannot. A promise is a promise, you know. _You_ have always taught
me that. Remember our motto, 'For God and the truth.' You would not wish
me to be the first McAllister who broke his word."

"Ah! my dear one," sobbed his mother, now fairly breaking down and
weeping piteously, "must ye go, must ye go?"

"Yes, mother dear; but don't distress yourself about me, I shall be all
right, and when bonnie Prince Chairlie comes into his own, we shall meet
again, and you, my ain bonnie mither, will be one of the first ladies at
the court of Holyrood. Now I must go. Father," he said, turning to The
McAllister, who was watching the scene in grim silence with folded arms
and countenance cold and stern. "Father, do you mean what you said just
now? Do you mean to say you will never forgive me if I go to my prince?"

"Yes," the old man thundered out. "Yes, by heaven, I do mean it."

"Then you have driven me for ever from you, and I leave your house
to-night. You are hard, unjust, cruel," and, kissing Lady Jean, hastily,
without more ado, Ivan left the hall. Then he walked swiftly into the
court yard, saddled his favorite horse, and whistling to his collie dog