The Redemption of Alexander Seaton by S.G. MacLean

this cannot be true, man: he was your nephew.’
    The provost, who had sat silently throughout Thomas Stewart’s narrative, maintained his composure. ‘I would rather lose my own life than believe it. Never has there been such a taint on my family name. Never. No hint of Romanism, of disloyalty to Church or Crown has ever attached itself to me or mine. I pray to God that it be not true, for the boy’s sake and for the memory of his aunt that is dead, for she loved the child to distraction, and he her.’
    To my surprise, the baillie, who was not much given to sentiment, added his voice in agreement. ‘It is known and well remembered that she did. And never did a child have a more Christian example before his eyes. If it be found that the boy did stray into the path of Rome, no blame will attach itself to her memory.’
    The minister, ever ready to set himself at odds with Buchan, did not altogether like this. ‘Nor yet to that of the provost, Baillie Buchan. Or to his family.’ In all this, as in all else, the Reverend Mr Guild’s concern was for himself. He was never slow to recall to all who listened that his own sister was now the provost’s wife, but any hint of dabbling with Rome by that family might leave its mark on himself. For Walter Watt, perhaps, the risk was greater. He had worked his whole life to garner position, influence, wealth and power, and aimed higher still than the provostship of Banff. What of all he had gained in this great life’s work would be left to him if his family name should be tainted with the odour of treachery?He could not even approximate to the position of the Marquises of Huntly, forgiven again and again by their indulgent monarchs. The king did not know Walter Watt, Provost of Banff, from any other middling creature in his kingdoms. Both for Watt and for his brother-in-law the minister, the revelation of Patrick Davidson as a papist spy would be a personal disaster.
    The baillie seemed unconvinced, uninterested even, in the minister’s assertion in defence of the provost. ‘Whether any blame attaches itself to the provost, his present family or indeed to any other indweller of this burgh remains to be seen, Mr Guild. When our community is threatened by the blackest of evils, as it is now, vigilance, vigilance in the Lord, is all.’
    The provost leaned forward, his eyes cold and hard. ‘There is none more vigilant for the good name of this burgh than am I, baillie, as well you must know.’
    Buchan was unperturbed. ‘And the good of its soul, provost? For make no mistake, what we deal with today is the good of its soul.’
    The notary, used to the endless shifting for position between baillie and provost, waited silently while they spoke out their piece. When the natural pause came, as he had known it would, he took charge once more of our discussion. ‘I hope it will be understood and agreed amongst us that we must take great care how this business is handled. Any suspicion of inhabitants of the town having truck with foreign enemies will cause poisonous division in the burgh. Accusation will be hurled against accusation, suspicion grow like a fungus in the hearts of the indwellers. Trade, and the security of the burgh, will be disrupted.’ How quickly Stewart had cut tothe heart of the matter. While some, like the minister and provost, might fear first of all for their own position and others, like the baillie, might have genuine fears for the immortal souls of the inhabitants of Banff, in the end, the real concern was not for Kirk or king, but for the security and trade of our town. ‘This business must be addressed with the utmost secrecy.’
    ‘But how can that be?’ spluttered the minister. ‘If some higher authority should come to know of it from other mouths than ours, then we might all be held guilty of apostasy and treason.’
    Thomas Stewart sought to assuage the Reverend Mr Guild’s concerns. ‘Great care will be taken over the security of these papers,