“Oh! he was there! One of his own friends, one of the military that went with you, saw him among the prisoners, and came just now to tell me of it. That Owen should be guilty of the like!--Oh! what could have come over him! He must have been out of his _rason_. And against you to be plotting! That’s what I never will believe, if even I’d hear it from himself. But he’s among them that were taken last night. And will I live to see him go to gaol?--and will I live to see--No, I’d rather die first, a thousand and a thousand times over. Oh! for mercy’s sake!” said she, dropping on her knees at my feet, “have pity on me, and don’t let the blood of my own child be upon me in my old days.” “What would you have me do, Ellinor?” said I, much moved by her distress. “There is but one thing to do,” said she. “Let him off: sure a word from you would be enough for the soldiers that are over them on guard. And Mr. McLeod has not yet seen him; and if he was just let escape, there would be no more about it; and I’d I engage he shall fly the country, the unfortunate cratur! and never trouble you more. This is all I ask: and sure, dear, you can’t refuse it to your own Ellinor; your old nurse, that carried ye in her arms, and fed ye with her milk, and watched over ye many’s the long night, and loved ye; ay, none ever loved, or could love ye so well.” “I am sensible of it; I am grateful,” interrupted I; “but what you ask of me, Ellinor, is impossible--I cannot let him escape; but I will do my utmost.” “Troth, nothing will save him, if you would not say the word for him now. Ah! why cannot you let him off, then?” “I should lose my honour; I should lose my character. You know that I have been accused of favouring the rebels already--you saw the consequences of my protecting your other son, though he was innocent and injured, and bore an excellent character.” “Christy; ay, true: but poor Owen, unlucky as he is, and misguided, has a better claim upon you.” “How can that be? Is not the other my foster-brother, in the first place?” “True for him.” “And had not I proofs of his generous conduct and attachment to me?” “Owen is naturally fonder of you by a great deal,” interrupted she; “I’ll answer for that.” “What! when he has just been detected in conspiring against my life?” “That’s what I’ll never believe,” cried Ellinor, vehemently: “that he might be drawn in, may be, when out of his _rason_--he was always a wild boy--to be a united-man, and to hope to get you for his captain, might be the case, and bad enough that; but, jewel, you’ll find he did never conspire against you: I’d lay down my life upon that.” She threw herself again at my feet, and clung to my knees. “As you hope for mercy yourself in this world, or the world to come, show some now, and do not be so hard-hearted as to be the death of both mother and son.”