Huntingtower

himself at Mrs. Morran's back door. That active woman had already been half an hour out of bed, and w

es and berry-busses like a wheasel. It's a mercy to get a responsible man in the place. I aye had a notion ye wad come back, for, thinks I, nevoy Di

d into bed his mind was curiously at ease. He felt equipped for any call that might be made on him.

m-car, he had made the great decision had flown back again and settled like black crows on his spirit. He was running a horrible risk and all for a whim. What business had he to be mixing himself up in things he did not understand? It might be a huge mistake, and then he would be a laughing stock; for a moment

obson, and Dobson saw him. That was a bad blunder, for his reason told him

cottage door, and prese

announced. "He's wantin' a word w

st know of their conversation. The sight of himself back again when he had pretended to be off to Glasgow w

uddenly Dickson was conscious of a resemblance, a resemblance to somebody whom he had recently seen. It was Loudon. There was the same thrusting of the chin forward, the same odd c

, and just when the farmers are wanting a dry seed-bed. Wha

fancy to this place. An idle body h

aking a lease o

told yo

h of the place

d sly and a l

u not to repeat the story. It's a big house for a pl

e that sort of notion, I can understand you

the fact," Dic

"I can't have ye wandering about the place. I'm very sorry, but I've got my orders from Mr. Loudon. So if you think that by bidin' here ye can see more of the House and the policies, ye're wrong, Mr. McCunn. It can't be allow

s Die-Hards, and as for Heritage they seemed to have lost track of him. He, Dickson, was now the chief object of their care. But what could Dobson do if he refused? He dared not show his true hand. Yet he might, if sufficiently i

ed he had insinuated a sneer. "But I'm bound to say you're awful suspicious folk about here. You needn't be fe

lowed either," he said. "The shore's as private as the polic

ging people from visiting this neighbourhood. I tell you what, I believe that hotel of yours is all sham.

an?" asked Do

ou're treating me." Loudon must have told this man the story with which he had b

is temper with an effort. "There's no cause for suspicion," he

if you were hiding something up in the

and Dickson quailed under the expectation of assault. But even in his fright he realised that Loudon could not have to

"Ye're a spy, are ye? Ye fat little fo

of bullying, will rouse some unsuspected obstinacy deep down in their souls. The

n. If you've nothing to hide what way are you so touch

rently acting on instructions, and had not yet com

he law, and when I tell ye the whole story ye'll admit it. But I can't tell it ye yet.... This is a wild, lonely bit and very few folk bide in it. And these are wild times, when a lot of queer things happen that never get into the papers. I tell ye it's for your

claimed. "What is it you'

nodded. "Somet

like? I never did thi

nd go home? Tell ye what, I'

r and began to strop it. "No, I think I'll bide. If yo

st. Ye ... can't ... be ... al

y law in Scotland, think you, that forbids

ll s

I'll

e'll see a

ce hung his waterproof with the pistol in its pocket. But the man restrained himself and moved to the door. There he stoo

to defy me? I tell ye, I'll make ye rue the day ye were born." His parting words we

ead violently against the low lintel, and, missing a step, fell down the loft stairs into the

he realised that it made his continued stay in the cottage undesirable. He was now the focus of all suspicion, and the innkeeper would be as good as his word and try to drive him out of the place by force. Kidnapping, most likely, and that would be highly unpleasan

ountains. It was a most practical work for one in his position, for it told how various eminent saints of that era escaped the attention of Claverhouse's dragoons. Dickson stored up in his memory several of the incidents in case they should come in handy. He wondered if any of his fo

legs were mud to the knees, his kilt and shirt clung sopping to his body, and, having lost his hat, his wet hair was

ally. "Is the peace of nature smoothing o

that y

a man say in Glasgow.

ose and got it on to the shore maybe a mile ayont Laverfoot. He managed to get the machine up as far as the water, but he could get no farther, for ye'll no' get a machine over the wee waterfa' just before the Laver ends in the sea. So he sent one o' the men back with it to Mrs.

ut your camp

and most is hid near at hand. The tents are in the auld wife's henhoose

tinklers b

and they cried on him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. Then they cried out where were the rest, and he telled them they were feared for their lives and had run away. After that they offered to catch

e innkeeper. "I don't think it's safe for me to bide here, and if I did, I wouldn't be any use, hiding in cella

ad, and take the second turn on your left, a wee grass road that'll bring ye to the ford at the herd's hoose. Cross the Laver-there's a plank bridge-and take straight across the moor in the direction of the peakit hill they call Grey Carrick. Ye'll come to a big burn, which ye must follow till ye get to the sho

ew minutes later, "will you oblig

daft," was

out of the village. They'll no' be so likely to try violence if there's somebody with me that could be a witnes

p her skirts till they looked like some demented Paris mode. An ancient bonnet was tied under her chin with strings, and her equipment

ed. "The wife's a freend o' mine and will set me a bit on th

-ground of gusts which swept the puddles into spindrift and gave to the stagnant bog-pools the appearance of running water. The wind was behind the tra

t home, mistress?" h

the darkenin'. This'll be a

oad and turned down the grassy bypath to the Laverfoot herd's. The

ee ye on a day like this? John's awa' at Dumfries, buyin'

yont the burn, and come back by the Ayr road. But I'll be blithe to tak' my te

d the west-flowing burn that was to lead him to the shore. He found it an entertaining companion, swirling into black pools, foaming over little falls, and lying in dark canal-like stretches in the flats. Presently it began to descend steeply in a narrow green gully, where the going

warm, but he attained a creditable pace, for he struck a road which had been used by manure-carts collecting seaweed. There were faint marks on it, which he took to be the wheels of Dougal's "machine" carrying the provision-box. Yes. On a patch of gravel there was a doub

of a boulder, the warrior who bore th

has rose three inches since I'v

"Breeks, too," commanded the boy; "

d the guide. The next moment he was stepping delicately on very sharp pebbles,

n made the passage slowly and miserably, sometimes crying out with pain as his toes struck a sharper flint, once or twice sitting down on a boulder to blow like a whale, once slipping on his knees and wetting the strange excrescence about his middle, which was hi

s the two scrambled along the foot, they passed deep-cut gullies and fissures, most of them unclimbable, but offering something more hopeful than the face. At one of these Old Bill halted and led the way up and over a chaos of fallen rock and loose s

d. "It was Mr. Heritag

ey, very steep but practicable even for one who was no cragsman. This in turn ran out against a wall up which there led only a narrow chimney. At

spoke in a whisper, and that all the movements of the Die-Hards were judicious and stealthy. "Now, it's your turn. Take

his pack and waterproof, which had a tendency to catch on jags of rock. A hand was

e Die-Hards was assembled on a patch of grass which was concealed from the landward view

o risky to move it into the House now. We'll need the thickest darkness for that, after the moon

s hand. "You're a high class of sportsman

kson asked in an excited whi

a notion that some devilish queer thing