That
kind of thing, none can know better than you, binds a man out of his
own path and his own choices into the path and choices of others.
Secrecy was demanded of me. I ceased to write home, and presently I
removed from old lodgings and purposely blurred indications of where I
was or might be found. In this way--the warring, troubled time
aiding--it occurred that there practically ceased all communication
between me and those of my blood and friendship whose political
thinking differs from mine.... I begin to see that I know little
indeed of what may or may not have occurred in that countryside. Early
in April, however, there came to my hand in Paris two letters--one
from my uncle, written before Christmas, one from Alexander Jardine,
written a month later. My uncle's contained the information that,
lacking my immediate return to this island and the political faith of
his side of the house, I was no longer his nephew and heir. The laird
of Glenfernie, upon an old quarrel into which I need not enter, chose
to send me a challenge simply. _Meet him, on such a sands in
Holland_.... Well, great affairs have right of way over small ones!
Under the circumstances, he might as well have appointed a plain in
the moon! The duel waits.... I tell you what I know of home affairs. I
shall be obliged for any information you may have that I have not.
Pages:
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205