Huntingtower
ED WITH RELIEF AND RE
rnate nights in Dalquharter, and beside him Dobson the innkeeper. Dickson and his hostess stood at the garden-gate, the former with his pack on his back and at his feet a small stout wooden box, of the kind in which c
Dobson was looking, furtively slipped
sure you've been awful kind to me, and I don'
ca that'll be glad o' my scones and jeelie. Tell Mirre
hankful that he had not to sit next to Dobson, for he had tell-tale stuff on his person. The mornin
nged. She was torn with convulsions of silent laughter. She retreated to the kitchen, sank into a chair, wrapped her face in her apron and rocked. Heritage, descen
watchers to turn up, and was rather relieved that it should be Dobson, whom he regarded as "the most natural beast" of the three. Somehow he did not think that he would be molested before he reache
ng to-day?" he as
l-cake I'm expectin'. What's in your wee kist? Y
e. There's a baking of scones; three pots of honey and one of rhubarb jam-she was aye famous for her rhubarb jam; a mutton ham, which you can'
ged horse and muttered reflections to himself, the innkeeper smoked, and Dickson stared back into the misty hollow where lay Dalquharter. The south-west wind had brought up a screen of rain clouds and washed all the countryside in a soft wet grey. But the eye could still travel a fair d
nd whipped up his beast into a clumsy canter. Dickson, always nervous about being late for trains, forced his eyes away and regarded again the road behind them. Suddenly the cyclist had become quite plain-a little more than a mile behind-a man, and pedalling furiously in s
long at a fair pace, since they were now on the flatter shelf of land which carried the railway. Dickson kept his eyes fixed on the bicycle and his teeth shut tight on his lower lip. Now it was hidden by the last dip of hill; now it emerge
re; that must be elsewhere, so that Dobson could not examine it if he were set on violence, somewhere in which it could still be a focus of suspicion and attract attention from his person. He took his ticket, and rushed on to the platform, to find the porter and the box at the door of the guard's van. Dobson was not there. Wit
s, and above all things then he feared an empty compartment. He clambered on to the step, but the handle would not turn, and with a sharp pang of fear he felt the innkeeper'
nd an elderly woman who looked like a ploughman's wife out for a day's marketing. And there was one other whom Dickson r
agman exclaimed. "My, but that was running it f
riends down hereaways. I've been very fortunate in t
t beat so fast, and he hoped he did not betray his disorder in his face. Very deliberately he hunted for his pipe a
y mind," was th
ying on me, when we were
ye had forgot a
. "I'm no' likely to fo
out his companion, to have him refer to the great firm of D. McCunn, so that the innkeeper might be ashamed of his suspicions. What nonsense to imagine that a n
, also left the carriage. A porter was shouting: "Fast train to Glasgow-Glasgow next stop." Dickson watched the innkeeper shoulder his way through
d had a kind of gusto in his desire to circumvent villainy; at Dalquharter station he had enjoyed a momentary sense of triumph; now he felt very small, lonely and forlorn. Only one thought far at the back of his mind cropped up now and then to give him comfort. He was entering on the last lap. Once get this detestable errand done and he would be a free
the southern lines enter the city. But as it rumbled over the river bridge and slowed down before the t
vement, and he meant to see that they missed nothing. He received his ticket for the box, and slowly and ostentatiously stowed it away in his pack. Swinging the said pack on his arm he sauntered through the entrance hal
e told the driver. "I think I'll
ubby sheet of newspaper. "I'll wait as l
the refreshment room, where he ordered a cup of coffee and two Bath buns, and seated himself at a small table. There he was soon immersed in the financial news, and though he sipped his coffee he left
mation. He bustled out to his taxi and found the driver still intent upon his reading. "Here I am at last," he said che
t it on the seat, and now it's g
n the name of his gods that no one had been near
t here till I see the inspector. A bonny
he hurried to the left-luggage office. "I deposited a small b
h iron bands. It was took out ten minutes syne. A man
istake, but the blame's mine
ely be wanted, so I gave him your number. It's a fair disgrace that there should be so many thieves about this station. It's not the
d have found some way to grip me and ripe me long before I got to the Bank." He shuddered as he thought of the dangers he had escaped. "As it is, they're off the track for half an hour at least, while they're rummaging among Auntie Phemie's scones." At the tho
te of his unorthodox garb, for he was not the least honoured of the bank's customers. As it chanced he had been talking about him that very morning to a gentleman from London. "The strength of this city," he had said, tapping his eyeglasses on his knuckles, "does
er room, and was warmly greeted by Mr. Mack
t a little fresh air and quiet after the smoke and din of Glasgow. A lit
t seen him. Somehow he did not think that peace was likely to be the por
ddle. The manager's eyes grew very round. Presently these excrescences were revealed as linen bags sewn on to his shirt, and
're to put them in the innermost corner of your strong room. You needn't open the
obediently to
call them
ls handed to you by Dickson M
is name with his usual flourish a
p my securities, and you'll give it up to nobody but me in person, and you'll
May I ask an
t if you don't w
s?" Mr. Mackintosh wei
ckson. "But I'll tell ye
ur
I'm their
lua
were worth more th
tartled manager. "I don't like
and a good customer. If you don't know much about the
himself to a joke. "Di
d. And that being so, I want you
for him at home, his first step was to feed heavily at a restaurant. He had, so far as he could see, surmounted all his troubles, his one regret being that he had lost his
o come when it was time to claim the jewels. As for the watchers, they must have ceased to suspect him, when they discovered the innocent contents of his knapsack and Mrs. Morran's box. Home for him, and a luxurious tea by his own fireside; and then an evening with his books, for Heritage's nonsense had stimulated his literary fer
, the sky opened into fields of blue and the April sun silvered the puddles. It was
elf only with facts. Suddenly the pretty veil of self-satisfaction was rent from top to bottom, and Dickson saw a figure of
ncied itself capable of higher things it had deceived itself. Foolish little image with its brave dreams and its swelling words from Browning! All make-believe of the feeblest. He was a coward, running away at the first threat of danger. It was as if h
men such as he had once been. He was bitterly angry with Providence for picking him out of the great crowd of sedentary folk for this sore ordeal. "Why was I tethered to sich a conscience?" was his moan. But there was that stern inquisitor with his pointer exploring his soul. "You flatter yourself you have done your share," he was saying. "You will make pretty sto
t guess at the tortured soul. The decision was coming nearer, the alternatives loomed up dark and inevitable. On one side was submission to ignominy, on the othe
o deal. But suddenly it leapt from negatives to positives. He saw the face of the girl in the shuttered House, so fair and young and yet so haggard. It seemed to be appealing to him to rescue it fhe understood. "It's fair ridiculous," he reflected. "Nobody there to take a grip of thin
ing faint and tenuous; the other, solid as ever, was just a shade less black. He lifted his eyes and saw in the near
rner as it came nearer. The car stopped with a jerk. "I'll go back," he said aloud, clambering
a business proposition," he told himself, "and I'm going to handle it as sich." Tibby was surpris
ng her home. He sat down and wrote a long affectionate reply, declining, but expressing his delight that she was soon returning. "T
and to cash a considerable cheque. In the knapsack he packed a fresh change of clothing and the new
nan and Speirs in Edinburgh?
ctable indeed. Regular Edinburgh
in Carrick called Huntingtower, near the village of Dalquharter.
nklater.... Good afternoon.... Huntingtower. Yes, in Carrick. Not to let? But I understand it's been in the market for some months. You say you've an idea it has just been let. But my client is positive that you're mistaken, unless the a
Edinburgh way of doing business," he obs
l Glendonan and Speirs to advise him to
e's Mr. Dickson McCunn of Mearns Street-the great provision merchant, you know. Oh, yes! Good for any rent. Refe
maker who was a fellow-elder with
announced. "I'm not caring what kind it is,
"You must have a licence, I doubt, a
ine who's off to Mexico at once. You've got to fin
ll do-I'll lend you one. It belongs to my nephew, Peter Tait, and has been lying in a drawer
down unavailing regrets. He ordered a great hamper of foodstuffs-the most delicate kind of tinned goods, two perfect hams, tongues, Strassburg pies, chocolate, cakes, biscuits and, as a last thought, half a dozen bottles of old liqueur
wshire uplands fill the carriage. It was fine weather again after the rain, and a bright constellation-perhaps Dougal's friend O'Brien-hung in the western sky. How happy he would have been a week ago had he been starting thus for a country holiday! He could sniff the f
he conceived it, and if that capricious lady had taken one dream from him she might yet reward him with a better. Tags of poetry came into his head which seemed to favour this philosophy-particularly some lines of Browning on which he used t
all things change
e long mutat
e as with the
better follow,
y to continue. Moralising thus, he became drowsy, and was almo