"And who was he?" asked Stewart, "He spoke sense at least."

I told I must be excused from naming him, for he was a decent stout
old Whig, and had little mind to be mixed up in such affairs.

"I think all the world seems to be mixed up in it!" cries Stewart.
"But what said you?"

"I told him what had passed between Rankeillor and myself before
the house of Shaws.

"Well, and so ye will hang!" said he. "Ye'll hang beside James
Stewart. There's your fortune told."

"I hope better of it yet than that," said I; "but I could never
deny there was a risk."

"Risk!" says he, and then sat silent again. "I ought to thank you
for you staunchness to my friends, to whom you show a very good
spirit," he says, "if you have the strength to stand by it. But I
warn you that you're wading deep. I wouldn't put myself in your
place (me that's a Stewart born!) for all the Stewarts that ever
there were since Noah. Risk? ay, I take over-many; but to be tried
in court before a Campbell jury and a Campbell judge, and that in a
Campbell country and upon a Campbell quarrel--think what you like
of me, Balfour, it's beyond me."

"It's a different way of thinking, I suppose," said I; "I was
brought up to this one by my father before me."