"I can say nought," Andrew said. "The boy is a good boy and a quiet one;
given to mischief like other boys of his age, doubtless, but always
amenable. What can have possessed him to behave in such a wild manner I
cannot conceive, but it seems to me that it was but a boy's freak."

"It was no freak when he ran his sword through Peter Muir's shoulder,"
Mr. M'Whirtle said. "Ye will allow that, neighbour Anderson."

"The man must have run against the sword," the bailie said, "seeing the
boy scarce knows one end of a weapon from another."

"You are wrong there, bailie," one of the constables said; "for I have
seen him many a time going into the school of James Macklewain, and I
have heard a comrade say, who knows James, that the lad can handle a
sword with the best of them."

"I will admit at once," Ronald said, "that I have gone to Macklewain's
school and learned fencing of him. My father, Colonel Leslie of Glenlyon,
was a gentleman, and it was right that I should wield a sword, and James
Macklewain, who had fought in the French wars and knew my father, was
good enough to teach me. I may say that my guardian knew nothing of
this."

"No, indeed," Andrew said. "I never so much as dreamt of it. If I had
done so he and I would have talked together to a purpose."

"Leslie of Glenlyon was concerned in the '15, was he not?" Mr. M'Whirtle
said; "and had to fly the country; and his son seems to be treading in
his steps, bailie. I doubt ye have been nourishing a viper in your