The ruddy cheek, red lips, and white teeth, set off a
countenance which had gained by exposure to the weather, a healthful
and hardy rather than a rugged hue. If Robin Oig did not laugh,
or even smile frequently, as indeed is not the practice among his
countrymen, his bright eyes usually gleamed from under his bonnet
with an expression of cheerfulness ready to be turned into mirth.
The departure of Robin Oig was an incident in the little town, in
and near which he had many friends male and female. He was a topping
person in his way, transacted considerable business on his own behalf,
and was intrusted by the best farmers in the Highlands, in preference
to any other drover in that district. He might have increased his
business to any extent had he condescended to manage it by deputy; but
except a lad or two, sister's sons of his own, Robin rejected the idea
of assistance, conscious, perhaps how much his reputation depended
upon his attending in person to the practical discharge of his duty
in every instance. He remained, therefore, contented with the highest
premium given to persons of his description, and comforted himself
with the hopes that a few journeys to England might enable him to
conduct business on his own account, in a manner becoming his birth.
For Robin Oig's father, Lachlan M'Combich, (or, _son of my friend_,
his actual clan surname being M'Gregor,) had been so called by the
celebrated Rob Roy, because of the particular friendship which had
subsisted between the grandsire of Robin and that renowned cateran.
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