"Nay," said Clavers, "that is past hoping. They will give them to their English colonels, Oglethorpe and the like. Aye, even though, at my own request, I had the promise from the Council of the estates of any that I should find cause of forfeiture against, a thing which is only my due. But as by this time you may know, a plain soldier hath small chance among the wiles of the courtiers." "I question, John, if thou hadst all Galloway and Nidsdale to boot, thou wouldst be happy, even with the fairest maid therein, for one short week. Thou wouldst be longing to have Boscobel out, saddled and bridled, and be off to the Whig-hunting with a 'Ho-Tally-Ho!' For that is thy way, John!" Claverhouse laughed a little stern laugh like a man that is forced to laugh at himself, yet is somedeal proud of what he hears. "It is true," he said. "There is no hunting like this hunting of men, which the King's service sees in these days. It makes it worth living to keep the crown of the moorland with one's company of dragoons, like a man hefting lambs on a sheep farm; and know that no den, no knowe, no moss, no hill has been left unsearched for the King's rebels." "And how speeds the wooing, John?" I heard Balmaghie say after a little pause, and the opening of another bottle. For I thought it no shame to listen, since the lives of all that were dear to me, as well as my own, were in this man's power. And, besides, I knew very well that Kate McGhie had put me in this place, that I might gain good intelligence of the intentions of the great captain of the man-hunters. Clavers sat awhile silent. He looked long and scrupulously at his fine white hand and fingered the lace ruffle upon his sleeve. "It was of that mainly that I came to speak to you, Roger. Truth to tell, it does not prosper to my mind." "Hath the fair Jean proved unkind?" said Roger McGhie, looking over at Claverhouse, with a quiet smile in his eye. John Graham leaned back in his chair with a quick amused look and threw back his clustering love locks. "No," he said; "there is, I think, little fear of that." "What then is the difficulty--her mother?" "Aye," said Claverhouse, "that is more like it. Yet though the Lady Dundonald drills me and flytes me and preaches at me, I care not so much. For like the hardships of life, that will come to an end. Nevertheless, I own that at times I am tempted to take the lady at my saddle-bow, and ride out from Paisley to return no more." "You will not do that, John!" said Balmaghie quietly, with a certain light of irony in his eye. Claverhouse looked up quickly. "How so, Balmaghie?" he said, and I saw through my little slant wicket the pride grow in his eye. "The forty thousand marks, John." Claverhouse struck his hand on the table. "Thank you----" he said coldly, and then for a moment was silent. "There is no man that dare say that to me but yourself, Roger McGhie," he added.