Chapter 11

           AlanandIsatdowntobreakfastaboutsixoftheclock.Thefloorwascoveredwithbrokenglassandinahorridmessofblood,whichtookawaymyhunger.Inallotherwayswewereinasituationnotonlyagreeablebutmerry;havingoustedtheofficersfromtheirowncabin,andhavingatcommandallthedrinkintheship—bothwineandspirits—andallthedaintypartofwhatwaseatable,suchasthepicklesandthefinesortofbread.This,ofitself,wasenoughtosetusingoodhumour,buttherichestpartofitwasthis,thatthetwothirstiestmenthatevercameoutofScotland(Mr.Shuanbeingdead)werenowshutinthefore-partoftheshipandcondemnedtowhattheyhatedmost—coldwater.

           “Anddependuponit,”Alansaid,“weshallhearmoreofthemerelong.Yemaykeepamanfromthefighting,butneverfromhisbottle.”

           Wemadegoodcompanyforeachother.Alan,indeed,expressedhimselfmostlovingly;andtakingaknifefromthetable,cutmeoffoneofthesilverbuttonsfromhiscoat.

           “Ihadthem,”sayshe,“frommyfather,DuncanStewart;andnowgiveyeoneofthemtobeakeepsakeforlastnight’swork.Andwhereveryegoandshowthatbutton,thefriendsofAlanBreckwillcomearoundyou.”

           HesaidthisasifhehadbeenCharlemagne,andcommandedarmies;andindeed,muchasIadmiredhiscourage,Iwasalwaysindangerofsmilingathisvanity:indanger,Isay,forhadInotkeptmycountenance,Iwouldbeafraidtothinkwhataquarrelmighthavefollowed.