cavalry were still occasionally drafted from Glasgow and
Carlisle to override the moors. But the lack of any local intelligencer
of the calibre of Eben McClure, the natural secretiveness of the people
as to "lads among the heather" and all folk in trouble, caused the
search to be spun out so long, that the general opinion was that Julian
Wemyss had escaped in an emigrant ship to America.

Stair occasionally showed himself at Glenanmays, and even made bold to
walk in the High Street of Cairnryan on a fair-day, none daring to
meddle with him, and the very officers of local justice turning aside
for a dram at the first sight of him. He was believed never to move
without such a body-guard as could cut its way through a squadron.

He was thus enabled to go about apparently alone, disquieted by none,
for the people were on his side, and it would have proved a dear bargain
to any man who had "sold" him. Stair made these appearances as often as
he knew that the soldiers were off on an expedition in a safe direction.
His object was to draw away attention from the Wild of Blairmore, and to
give the people of Cairnryan the idea that he was lying up in the
immediate neighbourhood of their town.

Meanwhile he and Julian Wemyss had added greatly to the comfort of the
Bothy. A solid rampart of turf, doubled on the western side, protected
it against the fierce winds of the moors. The whole of one end was
filled with an abundant stock of firewood and peat which his brothers
had cut, cast and prepared, and the troop had brought in one night of
full moon. The peat-cutting had increased the difficulty of reaching the
central fastness of the Wild, for the ink-black tarns had been cunningly
united, and the wide morass in front, where from black pools great
bubbles for ever rose and lazily burst, had been dammed till it
overflowed the meadows and lapped the sand-dunes behind the house of
Abbey Burnfoot. Of course a pathway was left, indeed more than one, to
provide a way of escape if the Bothy should happen to be blockaded. For
all which reasons Julian Wemyss was exceedingly content to abide on this
little platform of hard turf mixed with sea-shells, with the misty
water-logged bog all about.

He had many books, for his own house was not so far off, and his good
Joseph remained in charge of everything at Abbey Burnfoot. On dark
nights, at the edge of the Wild, Joseph met Stair always with a large
parcel of provender and a small parcel of