Then he could be killed,” Kirsty whispered. “There is that possibility”

As she made her way upstairs Alison felt mixed emotions. Though trying to be happy for Kirsty and Malcolm, she couldn’t help feeling envious. Oh, she was sure Sandy loved her, just as she was sure she loved him. But would the silly man ever say anything? Indeed, would he ever come to see her again at all? Since the night he had tussled with Ewan there had been no sign of him.

Agnes Porteous was making up her bed and smiled broadly. “You’re looking much better.”

“I’m feeling better,” Alison agreed, “though I look terrible.” She peered in her small hand mirror. “My skin is pasty and my hair’s a mess, and these bruises...”

“There’s nothing wrong that can’t be righted. You’ll look good enough to receive a prince soon enough.” “Huh, I’d settle for Sandy. I wish he’d come.” “I thought you’d finished with Sandy McCrae?” Agnes said. “I had! He tricked me and used me. Thanks to him my –” she hesitated “– my father and Ellie have been imprisoned.” “So what’s changed your mind?” “I don’t really know,” Alison admitted. “I swore I’d never see him again but that night, when I heard the shouting and saw that big lummox hitting him...” Gleamed

“That big lummox, as ye call him, is Ellie’s friend,” Agnes protested, “and he was only protecting himself.”

“Anyway, when I saw poor Sandy being struck down I knew I loved him.”

“Would you like me to fetch him?” Agnes asked. “Kirsty and I are going to try to visit your father and Ellie at the castle.”

Alison’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, I’d give anything to see him.” “Then I’ll be off, to tell your beloved that you’re pining for him.”

“Perhaps you should tell him to come in the morning. I’m still rather tired. And it’ll do him no harm to stew for another night.”

“If that’s what you want,” Agnes agreed. “Doctor Turner should be here shortly in any case. I’ve never known a doctor be so attentive! And he won’t accept money. Says he’s already been paid. You must have a guardian angel.”

Duncan McAllan sat at his bedroom window, head in hands. The revelation that his friend John Porteous had been arrested for treason was a shock. That John might support the Jacobites had been surprising. It was a shattering blow, as, of course, was Ellie’s arrest.

There came a knock at the door. “In you come,” he called out. Kirsty entered, tugging Malcolm behind her. “What can I do for the pair of you?” he asked.

The couple exchanged glances. “Go on.” Kirsty gave the young lad a gentle push. When the words came, it was in a rush. “I’ve come to ask you for Kirsty’s hand in marriage. We’re in love and she’ll have me if you...”

Kirsty ran forward and hugged the old man, burrowing her head in his shoulder. “Do we have your blessing?”

“My dear, this is the best news I’ve had these last few days. Everything else has been calamitous.” Duncan grasped Malcolm’s hand. “I’d like nothing better than to see you and Kirsty wed.”

Then he paused. “But what of your parents? Your poor father.” His voice trailed off. John Porteous was in no position to approve the marriage or otherwise.

“We’ll away to see my mother first,” Malcolm said, “after which Kirsty and she are off to the castle.”

Duncan’s face took on a sombre look. Happy though he was for Kirsty, her impending marriage meant he would have to tell her the truth of her origins – that she was not his daughter. Relief

Kirsty and Agnes Porteous approached the castle guardhouse as daylight began to fail. As they walked up the steep street and chatted about wedding plans, Kirsty was glad to see Agnes cheering up. It was clearly a welcome relief from her worries over John.

A surly sentry demanded to know their business. “We’ve come to see two prisoners,” Kirsty said firmly. “Mr Porteous and Miss Chalmers.”

The soldier scratched his chin. “The rebel sympathisers? That won’t be possible. I’ve no orders to let you pass.” “We insist on seeing them,” Kirsty said firmly. “Insist all you like,” the sentry scoffed. “Now, take yourselves away before I sound the alarm and have you both arrested.”

Though Kirsty would have argued, Agnes pulled her away. “Come, my dear, it’s no use.”

“What is no use, pray?” Robert Marshall appeared at their side. The guard stepped forward. “If you please, sir, these two women wanted to see the rebel prisoners. I told them they could not.”

“Quite right, Private, as per my orders.” Robert cast a defiant look at Agnes and Kirsty. “By the command of General Guest, I may add.”

“You’ve no right to.” Kirsty’s protest was cut off. “I have every right,” Robert insisted. “Look,” he said, noticing their distress, “it may be that they’ll be released shortly, provided no evidence is found. Much will depend on what Sergeant McCrae discovers.”

“That’s another thing!” Agnes blurted out at the mention of Sandy’s name. “My daughter requests that he visit her, tomorrow if suitable.”

“Then Miss Porteous is to be disappointed, I’m afraid.” He smiled ruefully at Agnes. “At this moment the good fellow is rummaging through your husband’s personal effects.”

“How dare you, sir!” Agnes exclaimed. “You have no right to invade our privacy in this way.”

“Ah, but we’re not invading it, dear lady. Your husband was most helpful, for it was he who surrendered his keys.” Robert grinned. “We act with his approval.”

Kirsty and Agnes exchanged glances. “Then perhaps when the sergeant returns he’ll be able to see Alison,” Kirsty suggested hopefully. Active service

“Alas, no. McCrae allowed a certain gentleman to escape. As punishment he reports for active service on his return, which should be within the hour.”

“Active service?” Kirsty’s hand flew to her mouth. “Yes. He will join a regiment intent on engaging the rebel forces as they approach Edinburgh.”

“Then he could be killed,” she whispered. “There is that possibility.”

Robert could have added his personal doubts about the effectiveness of Colonel Gardiner’s forces against the advancing rebel army, but instead he placed an arm around Kirsty’s shoulders. “It would be best if you let matters be,” he suggested. “Go back to the Canongate and wait to see what happens.”

As they turned away Agnes tried one last appeal. “How are they? My husband and Miss Chalmers?”

“In good spirits, I assure you,” Robert said. “Mr Porteous is most comfortable: he has books to read, regular meals and the solace of his Bible.”

“And Ellie?” Kirsty asked. “She is her usual cheerful self. Doubtless she awaits the arrival of the brave Ogilvie, dashing to her rescue.” He laughed scornfully. “No fear of that, ladies. The wretch is likely many miles from here, seeking his masters in the rebel force.

“Now,” he said impatiently, “kindly remove yourselves from these precincts lest I’m tempted to have you sample our hospitality, too.” More tomorrow. Glens of Stone was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.30 from newsagents and supermarkets.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon