Vedder took a signet ring from his finger and kissed it. "Rahal," he said, "I have kissed this ring of my fathers to seal the promise I shall make thee. If thou wilt give me thy confidence in this matter of Sunna Vedder, it shall be for thy good, and for the good of thy husband, and for the good of all thy children, as far as Adam Vedder can make it so." "I ask a special promise for my son Boris, for he is concerned in this matter." "Boris can take good care of Boris: nevertheless, I promise thee that I will not say or look or do, with hands or tongue, anything that will injure, or even annoy, Boris Ragnor. Unto the end of my life, I promise this. What may come after, I know not. If there should be a wrong done, we will fight it out elsewhere." "Thy words are sufficient. Listen, then! There is a family, in the newest and best part of the town, called McLeod. They are yet strange here. They are Highland Scotch. Many say they are Roman Catholics. They sing Jacobite songs, and they go not to any church. They have opened a great trading route; and they have brought many new customs and new ideas with them. A certain class of our people make much of them; others are barely civil to them; the best of our citizens do not notice them at all. But they have plenty of money, and live extravagantly, and the garrison's officers are constantly seen there. Do you know them?" "I have heard of them." "McLeod has a large trading fleet, and he has interfered with the business of Boris in many ways." "Hast thou ever seen him? Tell me what he is like." "I have seen him many times. He is a complete Highlander; tall, broad-shouldered and apparently very strong, also very graceful. He has high cheekbones, and a red beard, but all talk about him, and many think him altogether handsome." "And thou? What dost thou think?" "When I saw him, he was in earnest discussion with one of his men, and he was not using English but sputtering a torrent of shrill Gaelic, shrugging his shoulders, throwing his arms about, thrilling with excitement--but for all that, he was the picture of a man that most women would find irresistible." "I have heard that he wears the Highland dress." "Not on the street. They have many entertainments; he may wear it in some of them; but I think he is too wise to wear it in public. The Norseman is much indebted to the Scot--but it would not do to flaunt the feathered cap and philabeg too much--on Kirkwall streets." "You ought to know." "Yes, I am Highland Scotch, thank God! I understand this man, though I have never spoken to him. I know little about the Lowland Scot. He is a different race, and is quite a different man. You would not like him, Adam." "I know him. He is a fine fellow; quiet, cool-blooded, has little to say, and wastes no strength in emotion. There's wisdom for you--but go on with thy talk, woman; it hurts me, but I must hear it to the end."