rarest gallantry and parts, and equally designed by nature to adorn
a Court and to reap laurels in the field. Our meeting was the more
welcome to both, as he was one of the few Scots who had used the
Irish with consideration, and as he might now be of very high
utility in aiding my escape. Yet what founded our particular
friendship was a circumstance, by itself as romantic as any fable
of King Arthur.

This was on the second day of our flight, after we had slept one
night in the rain upon the inclination of a mountain. There was an
Appin man, Alan Black Stewart (or some such name, (2) but I have
seen him since in France) who chanced to be passing the same way,
and had a jealousy of my companion. Very uncivil expressions were
exchanged; and Stewart calls upon the Master to alight and have it
out.

"Why, Mr. Stewart," says the Master, "I think at the present time I
would prefer to run a race with you." And with the word claps
spurs to his horse.

Stewart ran after us, a childish thing to do, for more than a mile;
and I could not help laughing, as I looked back at last and saw him
on a hill, holding his hand to his side, and nearly burst with
running.

"But, all the same," I could not help saying to my companion, "I
would let no man run after me for any such proper purpose, and not
give him his desire. It was a good jest, but it smells a trifle
cowardly."