The Baron,
who knows our manners, and lives near our country, will apprize you of
the time and means to be their protector. Will you promise this to the
last Vich Ian Vohr?'
Edward, as may well be believed, pledged his word; which he afterwards
so amply redeemed, that his memory still lives in these glens by the
name of the Friend of the Sons of Ivor.
'Would to God,' continued the Chieftain, 'I could bequeath to you my
rights to the love and obedience of this primitive and brave race:--or
at least, as I have striven to do, persuade poor Evan to accept of
his life upon their terms, and be to you what he has been to me, the
kindest,--the bravest,--the most devoted--'
The tears which his own fate could not draw forth, fell fast for that of
his foster-brother.
'But,' said he, drying them, 'that cannot be. You cannot be to them Vich
Ian Vohr; and these three magic words,' said he, half smiling, 'are the
only Open Sesame to their feelings and sympathies, and poor Evan must
attend his foster-brother in death, as he has done through his whole
life.'
'And I am sure,' said Maccombich, raising himself from the floor, on
which, for fear of interrupting their conversation, he had lain so
still, that, in the obscurity of the apartment, Edward was not aware of
his presence,--'I am sure Evan never desired or deserved a better end
than just to die with his Chieftain.
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