Return after Palm Sunday, and who knows whom or what you may find in the territories we now possess! The wildcat may have made his lodge where the banqueting bower of MacIan now stands." The young chief was silent, and pressed the top of the rod to his lips, as if to guard against uttering more.
"There is no fear of that, Eachin," said Simon, in that vague way in which lukewarm comforters endeavour to turn the reflections of their friends from the consideration of inevitable danger.
"There is fear, and there is peril of utter ruin," answered Eachin, "and there is positive certainty of great loss.

I marvel my father consented to this wily proposal of Albany.

I would MacGillie Chattanach would agree with me, and then, instead of wasting our best blood against each other, we would go down together to Strathmore and kill and take possession.

I would rule at Perth and he at Dundee, and all the great strath should be our own to the banks of the Firth of Tay.

Such is the policy I have caught from your old grey head, father Simon, when holding a trencher at thy back, and listening to thy evening talk with Bailie Craigdallie." "The tongue is well called an unruly member," thought the glover.
"Here have I been holding a candle to the devil, to show him the way to mischief." But he only said aloud: "These plans come too late." "Too late indeed!" answered Eachin.