 »I have no fear of the
justice of my country.«
    »As if this was your country!« said he. »Or as if ye would be tried here, in
a country of Stewarts!«
    »It's all Scotland,« said I.
    »Man, I whiles wonder at ye,« said Alan. »This is a Campbell that's been
killed. Well, it'll be tried in Inverara, the Campbells' head place; with
fifteen Campbells in the jury-box, and the biggest Campbell of all (and that's
the Duke) sitting cocking on the bench. Justice, David? The same justice, by all
the world, as Glenure found a while ago at the road-side.«
    This frighted me a little, I confess, and would have frighted me more if I
had known how nearly exact were Alan's predictions; indeed, it was but in one
point that he exaggerated, there being but eleven Campbells on the jury; though
as the other four were equally in the Duke's dependence, it mattered less than
might appear. Still, I cried out that he was unjust to the Duke of Argyle, who
(for all he was a Whig) was yet a wise and honest nobleman.
    »Hoot!« said Alan, »the man's a Whig, nae doubt; but I would never deny he
was a good chieftain to his clan. And what would the clan think if there was a
Campbell shot, and naebody hanged, and their own chief the Justice-General? But
I have often observed,« says Alan, »that you Low-country bodies have no clear
idea of what's right and wrong.«
    At this I did at last laugh out aloud; when to my surprise, Alan joined in,
and laughed as merrily as myself.
    »Na, na,« said he, »we're in the Hielands, David; and when I tell ye to run,
take my word and run. Nae doubt it's a hard thing to skulk and starve in the
heather, but it's harder yet to lie shackled in a redcoat prison.«
    I asked him whither we should flee; and as he told me »to the Lowlands,« I
was a little better inclined to go with him; for, indeed, I was growing
impatient to get back and have the upper hand of my uncle. Besides, Alan made so
sure there would be no question of justice in the matter, that I began to be
