The accident fell out in Appin -- mind ye that , Alan ; it 's Appin that must pay ; and I am a man that has a family . '' * Blame . While this was going on I looked about me at the servants . Some were on ladders , digging in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings , from which they brought out guns , swords , and different weapons of war ; others carried them away ; and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere farther down the brae , I suppose they buried them . Though they were all so busy , there prevailed no kind of order in their efforts ; men struggled together for the same gun and ran into each other with their burning torches ; and James was continually turning about from his talk with Alan , to cry out orders which were apparently never understood . The faces in the torchlight were like those of people overborne with hurry and panic ; and though none spoke above his breath , their speech sounded both anxious and angry . It was about this time that a lassie came out of the house carrying a pack or bundle ; and it has often made me smile to think how Alan 's instinct awoke at the mere sight of it . `` What 's that the lassie has ? '' he asked . `` We 're just setting the house in order , Alan , '' said James , in his frightened and somewhat fawning way . `` They 'll search Appin with candles , and we must have all things straight . We 're digging the bit guns and swords into the moss , ye see ; and these , I am thinking , will be your ain French clothes . We 'll be to bury them , I believe . '' `` Bury my French clothes ! '' cried Alan . `` Troth , no ! '' And he laid hold upon the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself , recommending me in the meanwhile to his kinsman . James carried me accordingly into the kitchen , and sat down with me at table , smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner . But presently the gloom returned upon him ; he sat frowning and biting his fingers ; only remembered me from time to time ; and then gave me but a word or two and a poor smile , and back into his private terrors . His wife sat by the fire and wept , with her face in her hands ; his eldest son was crouched upon the floor , running over a great mass of papers and now and again setting one alight and burning it to the bitter end ; all the while a servant lass with a red face was rummaging about the room , in a blind hurry of fear , and whimpering as she went ; and every now and again one of the men would thrust in his face from the yard , and cry for orders .
At last XXXXX could keep his seat no longer , and begged my permission to be so unmannerly as walk about .
Alan Appin French James Troth accident fire kinsman lassie war