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Chapter 20

           

           AtthisIsupposeIcolouredwithmortification,forheaddedatonce,“Hoots!smallblametoye!Tobefearedofathingandyettodoit,iswhatmakestheprettiestkindofaman.Andthentherewaswaterthere,andwater’sathingthatdauntonsevenme.No,no,”saidAlan,“it’snoyouthat’stoblame,it’sme.”

           Iaskedhimwhy.

           “Why,”saidhe,“Ihaveprovedmyselfagomeralthisnight.ForfirstofallItakeawrongroad,andthatinmyowncountryofAppin;sothatthedayhascaughtuswhereweshouldneverhavebeen;andthankstothat,weliehereinsomedangerandmairdiscomfort.Andnext(whichistheworstofthetwo,foramanthathasbeensomuchamongtheheatherasmyself)Ihavecomewantingawater-bottle,andherewelieforalongsummer’sdaywithnaethingbutneatspirit.Yemaythinkthatasmallmatter;butbeforeitcomesnight,David,ye’llgivemenewsofit.”

           Iwasanxioustoredeemmycharacter,andoffered,ifhewouldpouroutthebrandy,torundownandfillthebottleattheriver.

           “Iwouldnaewastethegoodspiriteither,”sayshe.“It’sbeenagoodfriendtoyouthisnight;orinmypooropinion,yewouldstillbecockingonyonstone.Andwhat’smair,”sayshe,“yemayhaveobserved(youthat’samanofsomuchpenetration)thatAlanBreckStewartwasperhapswalkingquickerthanhisordinar’.”

           “You!”Icried,“youwererunningfittoburst.”

           “WasIso?”saidhe.“Well,then,yemaydependuponit,therewasnaetimetobelost.

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