Rob Roy Page #4

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You may go, Archibald.

You bear no arms?

I hadn't planned|on demanding terms at sword point.

Robert McGregor of Craigrostan,|My Lord.

So, McGregor...

I knew your father,|an able man, if not a wise one.

Have you taken on his mantle?

As best I may, My Lord.

So, how many men are you master of?

Master of none, My Lord,

but some 200 souls|live close by Craigrostan,

and they're in my care.

You are a profit and provider to them,

is that not so?

What I can, I do.

It is no great matter|compared to Your Lordship's work.

To know one's place, McGregor,

in the order of things|is a great blessing.

What terms, Killearn?

A fifth, My Lord.

A fifth, you say?

What, is this man kin|that you offer such kindly terms?

Am I not accustomed|to a quarter on unsecured loans?

McGregor has 300 acres|at Craigrostan, My Lord.

Ah. A man of property|intent on growing richer.

Well, we have more in common|than I would have suspected, McGregor.

1,000 for 3 months, you say,

and these acres of yours as security?

And my oath.

Ah, yes.

Tell me, is there something|in what Killearn says

that you might have driven off my cattle

and returned them with stories of tinkers|caught and summarily executed?

I have, in my day, thieved cattle,

but none that were under my watch.

Is that what passes for honour

with a McGregor?

What passes for honour with me

is likely enough|the same as with Your Lordship.

When my word is given,

it is good.

Well, you are to be congratulated

on such cheaply bought nobility.

Killearn will draw papers.

I will expect the terms to be met.

My thanks to Your Lordship.

Aye, but it's a fine,|bold signature you have,

worthy of a chieftain himself.

Are you Rob Roy McGregor?

I am. And what's your name?

Davey Anderson.

Hello, Davey Anderson.

Hello.

Even the servant boys|know who you are.

You've become a famous reiver|and retriever in your own lifetime.

Business and profit.

And a soft winter.

Are you Rob Roy McGregor?

I am.

I'm Will Guthrie.

You heard of me?

No, I have not.

Well, I've heard of you.

Indeed.

And what have you heard, Mr Guthrie?

I heard you backstabbed Tam Sibbald.

Were you and Tam kin?

Near enough.

I shagged his sister.

Likely so did Tam.

You want the wind|let out of your bladder?

What's your business with me, Guthrie?

Business best done outside.

We have no quarrel.

That can be remedied.

The first cut?

Aye.

Well done.

Some other time

when we're both sober.

Tam Sibbald has a longer reach dead|than he ever did living.

I'm away home.

Keep the pony|and stick to Killearn till you have the note.

I'll see you back in Craigrostan.

I'm to wait here till the note is signed.

Aye. We are the obedient one.

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