Accordingly I cried and waved on Mr. Rankeillor, who came up alone and was presented to my friend, Mr. Thomson.
“Mr. Thomson, I am pleased to meet you,” said he. “But I have forgotten my glasses; and our friend, Mr. David here” (clapping me on the shoulder) “will tell you that I am little better than blind, and that you must not be surprised if I pass you by to-morrow.”
This he said, thinking that Alan would be pleased; but the Highlandman’s vanity was ready to startle at a less matter than that.
“Why, sir,” says he, stiffly, “I would say it mattered the less as we are met here for a particular end, to see justice done to Mr. Balfour; and by what I can see, not very likely to have much else in common. But I accept your apology, which was a very proper one to make.”
“And that is more than I could look for, Mr. Thomson,” said Rankeillor, heartily. “And now as you and I are the chief actors in this enterprise, I think we should come into a nice agreement; to which end, I propose that you should lend me your arm, for (what with the dusk and the want of my glasses) I am not very clear as to the path; and as for you, Mr. David, you will find Torrance a pleasant kind of body to speak with. Only let me remind you, it’s quite needless he should hear more of your adventures or those of—ahem—Mr. Thomson.”
Accordingly these two went on ahead in very
