"Meaning yourself? Well, it will do you no ill. There’s naught better for a young man than to find out how little the world cares whether he be dead or alive. And, above all, you that pretend to be a scholar, it will ding some of the fine-spun fancies out of your head. But for the Lord’s sake, laddie, dinna get a bullet in your skull or you’ll have me with all my years taking the field to pay back them that did it." He spoke this so kindly that I was moved to forget the first half of his words through the excellency of the second. In truth I much needed the rough lessons of hardship and penury, for at that time I was much puffed up in a self-conceit and a certain pride of letters as foolish as it was baseless. "I must be off in the morning before the dawning, for I have to be on the hills ere the soldiers get abroad. I must beg of you not to disturb yourself, Master Veitch, for my sake, but just to bid them make ready for me some provisions; and I will slip off ere the household be awake. It is better to say farewell now than to have many sad leave-takings at the moment of departure. I have no fear of my journey, for my legs are as good as any man’s and I can make my hands keep my head. Also, my mind is easy since I know that Marjory is safe here." "Then I will even bid you good-bye, John," said he, "for I am an old man and keep early hours. If you will follow me I will take you to your chamber. Alison will take you to the old room, Marjory, where you have not been since you were a little lass scarce up to my knee." And with obvious intent he walked out. "God keep you, John," my dear lass whispered on my shoulder. "I will never cease to think of you. Ana oh, be not long in coming back." And this was the last I saw of my lady for many days. CHAPTER X OF THE MAN WITH THE ONE EYE AND THE ENCOUNTER IN THE GREEN CLEUCH I promise you I slept little that night, and it was with a heavy heart that I rose betimes and dressed in the chill of the morning. There was no one awake, and I left the house unobserved, whistling softly to keep up my spirits. Just without, someone came behind me and cried my name. I turned round sharply, and there was my servant Nicol, slinking after me for all the world like a collie-dog which its master has left at home. "What do you want with me?" I cried. "Naething," he groaned sadly. "I just wantit to see ye afore ye gaed. I am awfu’ feared, sir, for you gaun awa’ yoursel’. If it werena for Mistress Marjory, it wad be a deal mair than your word wad keep me frae your side. But I cam to see if there was nae way o’ gettin’ word o’ ye. My leddy will soon turn dowie, gin she gets nae sough o’ your whereabouts. Ye’d better tell me where I can get some kind o’ a letter."