'An it please your Grace,' said the stout old Tory, 'I fear I am too old to see another opportunity.'] Yet who knows ?' And then he made a deep pause.
'May I ask what became of your friend, sir ?' said Alan Fairford.
'Ah, poor Harry!' said Summertrees.

'I'll tell you what, sir, it takes time to make up one's mind to such a venture, as my friend the provost calls it; and I was told by Neil Maclean,--who was next file to us, but had the luck to escape the gallows by some sleight-of-hand trick or other,--that, upon my breaking off, poor Harry stood like one motionless, although all our brethren in captivity made as much tumult as they could, to distract the attention of the soldiers.

And run he did at last; but he did not know the ground, and either from confusion, or because he judged the descent altogether perpendicular, he fled up the hill to the left, instead of going down at once, and so was easily pursued and taken.

If he had followed my example, he would have found enough among the shepherds to hide him, and feed him, as they did me, on bearmeal scenes and braxy mutton, till better days came round again.' [BRAXY MUTTON .-- The flesh of sheep that has died of disease, not by the hand of the butcher.

In pastoral countries it is used as food with little scruple.] 'He suffered then for his share in the insurrection ?' said Alan.
'You may swear that,' said Summertrees.