Update <hgroup> children after first <h#> to <p>, ref. new HTML standard

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-1" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">A Beggar on Horseback</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">A Beggar on Horseback</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, David Balfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending me with a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing me from their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, I was like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to my last shillings, my companion a condemned traitor, a price set on my own head for a crime with the news of which the country rang. Today I was served heir to my position in life, a landed laird, a bank porter by me carrying my gold, recommendations in my pocket, and (in the words of the saying) the ball directly at my foot.</p>
 			<p>There were two circumstances that served me as ballast to so much sail. The first was the very difficult and deadly business I had still to handle; the second, the place that I was in. The tall, black city, and the numbers and movement and noise of so many folk, made a new world for me, after the moorland braes, the sea-sands, and the still countrysides that I had frequented up to then. The throng of the citizens in particular abashed me. Rankeillor’s son was short and small in the girth; his clothes scarce held on me; and it was plain I was ill qualified to strut in the front of a bank-porter. It was plain, if I did so, I should but set folk laughing, and (what was worse in my case) set them asking questions. So that I behooved to come by some clothes of my own, and in the meanwhile to walk by the porter’s side, and put my hand on his arm as though we were a pair of friends.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-10" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">X</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Redheaded Man</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Redheaded Man</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>It was about half-past three when I came forth on the Lang Dykes. Dean was where I wanted to go. Since Catriona dwelled there, and the Glengyle Macgregors appeared almost certainly to be employed against me, it was just one of the few places I should have kept away from; and being a very young man, and beginning to be very much in love, I turned my face in that direction without pause. As a salve to my conscience and common sense, however, I took a measure of precaution. Coming over the crown of a bit of a rise in the road, I clapped down suddenly among the barley and lay waiting. After a while, a man went by that looked to be a Highlandman, but I had never seen him till that hour. Presently after came Neil of the red head. The next to go past was a miller’s cart, and after that nothing but manifest country people. Here was enough to have turned the most foolhardy from his purpose, but my inclination ran too strong the other way. I argued it out that if Neil was on that road, it was the right road to find him in, leading direct to his chief’s daughter; as for the other Highlandman, if I was to be startled off by every Highlandman I saw, I would scarce reach anywhere. And having quite satisfied myself with this disingenuous debate, I made the better speed of it, and came a little after four to <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Drummond-Ogilvy’s.</p>
 			<p>Both ladies were within the house; and upon my perceiving them together by the open door, I plucked off my hat and said, “Here was a lad come seeking saxpence,” which I thought might please the dowager.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-11" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XI</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Wood by Silvermills</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Wood by Silvermills</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I lost no time, but down through the valley and by Stockbrig and Silvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan’s tryst to lie every night between twelve and two “in a bit scrog of wood by east of Silvermills and by south the south mill-lade.” This I found easy enough, where it grew on a steep brae, with the mill-lade flowing swift and deep along the foot of it; and here I began to walk slower and to reflect more reasonably on my employment. I saw I had made but a fool’s bargain with Catriona. It was not to be supposed that Neil was sent alone upon his errand, but perhaps he was the only man belonging to James More; in which case, I should have done all I could to hang Catriona’s father, and nothing the least material to help myself. To tell the truth, I fancied neither one of these ideas. Suppose, by holding back Neil, the girl should have helped to hang her father, I thought she would never forgive herself this side of time. And suppose there were others pursuing me that moment, what kind of a gift was I come bringing to Alan? and how would I like that?</p>
 			<p>I was up with the west end of that wood when these two considerations struck me like a cudgel. My feet stopped of themselves and my heart along with them. “What wild game is this that I have been playing?” thought I; and turned instantly upon my heels to go elsewhere.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-12" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XII</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">On the March Again with Alan</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">On the March Again with Alan</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>It was likely between one and two; the moon (as I have said) was down; a strongish wind, carrying a heavy wrack of cloud, had set in suddenly from the west; and we began our movement in as black a night as ever a fugitive or a murderer wanted. The whiteness of the path guided us into the sleeping town of Broughton, thence through Picardy, and beside my old acquaintance the gibbet of the two thieves. A little beyond we made a useful beacon, which was a light in an upper window of Lochend. Steering by this, but a good deal at random, and with some trampling of the harvest, and stumbling and falling down upon the banks, we made our way across country, and won forth at last upon the linky, boggy muirland that they call the Figgate Whins. Here, under a bush of whin, we lay down the remainder of that night and slumbered.</p>
 			<p>The day called us about five. A beautiful morning it was, the high westerly wind still blowing strong, but the clouds all blown away to Europe. Alan was already sitting up and smiling to himself. It was my first sight of my friend since we were parted, and I looked upon him with enjoyment. He had still the same big greatcoat on his back; but (what was new) he had now a pair of knitted boot-hose drawn above the knee. Doubtless these were intended for disguise; but, as the day promised to be warm, he made a most unseasonable figure.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-13" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XIII</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">Gillane Sands</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">Gillane Sands</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I did not profit by Alan’s pilotage as he had done by his marchings under General Cope; for I can scarce tell what way we went. It is my excuse that we travelled exceeding fast. Some part we ran, some trotted, and the rest walked at a vengeance of a pace. Twice, while we were at top speed, we ran against countryfolk; but though we plumped into the first from round a corner, Alan was as ready as a loaded musket.</p>
 			<p>“Hae ye seen my horse?” he gasped.</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-14" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XIV</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Bass</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Bass</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I had no thought where they were taking me; only looked here and there for the appearance of a ship; and there ran the while in my head a word of Ransome’s⁠—the “twenty-pounders.” If I were to be exposed a second time to that same former danger of the plantations, I judged it must turn ill with me; there was no second Alan, and no second shipwreck and spare yard to be expected now; and I saw myself hoe tobacco under the whip’s lash. The thought chilled me; the air was sharp upon the water, the stretchers of the boat drenched with a cold dew; and I shivered in my place beside the steersman. This was the dark man whom I have called hitherto the Lowlander; his name was Dale, ordinarily called Black Andie. Feeling the thrill of my shiver, he very kindly handed me a rough jacket full of fish-scales, with which I was glad to cover myself.</p>
 			<p>“I thank you for this kindness,” said I, “and will make so free as to repay it with a warning. You take a high responsibility in this affair. You are not like these ignorant, barbarous Highlanders, but know what the law is and the risks of those that break it.”</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-15" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XV</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">Black Andie’s Tale of Tod Lapraik</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">Black Andie’s Tale of Tod Lapraik</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I have yet said little of the Highlanders. They were all three of the followers of James More, which bound the accusation very tight about their master’s neck. All understood a word or two of English; but Neil was the only one who judged he had enough of it for general converse, in which (when once he got embarked) his company was often tempted to the contrary opinion. They were tractable, simple creatures; showed much more courtesy than might have been expected from their raggedness and their uncouth appearance, and fell spontaneously to be like three servants for Andie and myself.</p>
 			<p>Dwelling in that isolated place, in the old falling ruins of a prison, and among endless strange sounds of the sea and the seabirds, I thought I perceived in them early the effects of superstitious fear. When there was nothing doing they would either lie and sleep, for which their appetite appeared insatiable, or Neil would entertain the others with stories which seemed always of a terrifying strain. If neither of these delights were within reach⁠—if perhaps two were sleeping and the third could find no means to follow their example⁠—I would see him sit and listen and look about him in a progression of uneasiness, starting, his face blenching, his hands clutched, a man strung like a bow. The nature of these fears I had never an occasion to find out, but the sight of them was catching, and the nature of the place that we were in favourable to alarms. I can find no word for it in the English, but Andie had an expression for it in the Scots from which he never varied.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-16" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XVI</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Missing Witness</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Missing Witness</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>On the seventeenth, the day I was trysted with the Writer, I had much rebellion against fate. The thought of him waiting in the King’s Arms, and of what he would think, and what he would say when next we met, tormented and oppressed me. The truth was unbelievable, so much I had to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and a coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that I should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter relish, and reexamined in that light the steps of my behaviour. It seemed I had behaved to James Stewart as a brother might; all the past was a picture that I could be proud of, and there was only the present to consider. I could not swim the sea, nor yet fly in the air, but there was always Andie. I had done him a service, he liked me; I had a lever there to work on; if it were just for decency, I must try once more with Andie.</p>
 			<p>It was late afternoon; there was no sound in all the Bass but the lap and bubble of a very quiet sea; and my four companions were all crept apart, the three Macgregors higher on the rock, and Andie with his Bible to a sunny place among the ruins; there I found him in deep sleep, and, as soon as he was awake, appealed to him with some fervour of manner and a good show of argument.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-17" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XVII</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Memorial</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Memorial</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The last word of the blessing was scarce out of the minister’s mouth before Stewart had me by the arm. We were the first to be forth of the church, and he made such extraordinary expedition that we were safe within the four walls of a house before the street had begun to be thronged with the home-going congregation.</p>
 			<p>“Am I yet in time?” I asked.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-18" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XVIII</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Tee’d Ball</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Tee’d Ball</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>On the morrow, from the justices’ private room, where none could see me, I heard the verdict given in and judgment rendered upon James. The Duke’s words I am quite sure I have correctly; and since that famous passage has been made a subject of dispute, I may as well commemorate my version. Having referred to the year ’45, the chief of the Campbells, sitting as Justice-General upon the bench, thus addressed the unfortunate Stewart before him: “If you had been successful in that rebellion, you might have been giving the law where you have now received the judgment of it; we, who are this day your judges, might have been tried before one of your mock courts of judicature; and then you might have been satiated with the blood of any name or clan to which you had an aversion.”</p>
 			<p>“This is to let the cat out of the bag, indeed,” thought I. And that was the general impression. It was extraordinary how the young advocate lads took hold and made a mock of this speech, and how scarce a meal passed but what someone would get in the words: “And then you might have been satiated.” Many songs were made in that time for the hour’s diversion, and are near all forgot. I remember one began:</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-19" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XIX</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">I Am Much in the Hands of the Ladies</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">I Am Much in the Hands of the Ladies</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The copying was a weary business, the more so as I perceived very early there was no sort of urgency in the matters treated, and began very early to consider my employment a pretext. I had no sooner finished, than I got to horse, used what remained of daylight to the best purpose, and being at last fairly benighted, slept in a house by Almond-Water side. I was in the saddle again before the day, and the Edinburgh booths were just opening when I clattered in by the West Bow and drew up a smoking horse at my lord Advocate’s door. I had a written word for Doig, my lord’s private hand that was thought to be in all his secrets, a worthy, little plain man, all fat and snuff and self-sufficiency. Him I found already at his desk and already bedabbled with maccabaw, in the same anteroom where I rencountered with James More. He read the note scrupulously through like a chapter in his Bible.</p>
 			<p>“H’m,” says he, “ye come a wee thing ahint-hand, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Balfour. The bird’s flaen, we hae letten her out.”</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-2" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">The Highland Writer</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Highland Writer</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p><abbr>Mr.</abbr> Charles Stewart the Writer dwelt at the top of the longest stair that ever mason set a hand to; fifteen flights of it, no less; and when I had come to his door, and a clerk had opened it, and told me his master was within, I had scarce breath enough to send my porter packing.</p>
 			<p>“Awa’ east and wast wi’ ye!” said I, took the money bag out of his hands, and followed the clerk in.</p>

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 		<section data-parent="part-1" id="chapter-20" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XX</h3>
-				<h4 epub:type="title">I Continue to Move in Good Society</h4>
+				<p epub:type="title">I Continue to Move in Good Society</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>For about exactly two months I remained a guest in Prestongrange’s family, where I bettered my acquaintance with the bench, the bar, and the flower of Edinburgh company. You are not to suppose my education was neglected, on the contrary I was kept extremely busy. I studied the French, so as to be more prepared to go to Leyden; I set myself to the fencing, and wrought hard, sometimes three hours in the day, with notable advancement; at the suggestion of my cousin, Pilrig, who was an apt musician, I was put to a singing class, and by the orders of my Miss Grant, to one for the dancing, at which. I must say I proved far from ornamental. However, all were good enough to say it gave me an address a little more genteel; and there is no question but I learned to manage my coat skirts and sword with more dexterity, and to stand in a room as though the same belonged to me. My clothes themselves were all earnestly reordered; and the most trifling circumstance, such as where I should tie my hair, or the colour of my ribbon, debated among the three misses like a thing of weight. One way with another, no doubt I was a good deal improved to look at, and acquired a bit of a modish air that would have surprised the good folks at Essendean.</p>
 			<p>The two younger misses were very willing to discuss a point of my habiliment, because that was in the line of their chief thoughts. I cannot say that they appeared any other way conscious of my presence; and though always more than civil, with a kind of heartless cordiality, could not hide how much I wearied them. As for the aunt, she was a wonderful still woman; and I think she gave me much the same attention as she gave the rest of the family, which was little enough. The eldest daughter and the Advocate himself were thus my principal friends, and our familiarity was much increased by a pleasure that we took in common. Before the court met we spent a day or two at the house of Grange, living very nobly with an open table, and here it was that we three began to ride out together in the fields, a practice afterwards maintained in Edinburgh, so far as the Advocate’s continual affairs permitted. When we were put in a good frame by the briskness of the exercise, the difficulties of the way, or the accidents of bad weather, my shyness wore entirely off; we forgot that we were strangers, and speech not being required, it flowed the more naturally on. Then it was that they had my story from me, bit by bit, from the time that I left Essendean, with my voyage and battle in the <i epub:type="se:name.vessel.ship">Covenant</i>, wanderings in the heather, <abbr>etc.</abbr>; and from the interest they found in my adventures sprung the circumstance of a jaunt we made a little later on, a day when the courts were not sitting, and of which I will tell a trifle more at length.</p>