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_....