“Well,” said I, “that’s true!”
“And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it in a certain manner, “I swear upon the Holy Iron I had neither art nor part, act nor thought in it.”
“I thank God for that!” cried I, and offered him my hand.
He did not appear to see it.
“And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are not so scarce, that I ken!”
“At least,” said I, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well what you told me in the brig. But the temptation and the act are different, I thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but to take a life in cold blood, Alan!” And I could say no more for the moment. “And do you know who did it?” I added. “Do you know that man in the black coat?”
“I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly, “but it sticks in my head that it was blue.”
“Blue or black, did ye know him?” said I.
“I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very close by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that I should just have been tying my brogues.”
“Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” I cried, half angered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions.