is way down the
slope, but on a sudden all three reappeared, and the watcher dropped
like a shot rabbit straight into a bed of thistles and nettles, fearful
of discovery.
It seemed that they were about to secure themselves and their flocks
against evil by way of charm and spell, for round about the ale-house
they bent their steps--the way of the sun--brandishing rowan boughs and
chanting a fragment of ancient rhyme:
'_By the rowan's power--
By the thorn's might
Safe i' the bower
Be all our insight!_'
Having perambulated round their buildings and wall three successive
times they disappeared within, and the watcher heard to his
gratification the sound of bolt and bar being pushed home.
The solitary watcher smiled to himself--the secret smile of the
Highlander who has grasped the situation and knows how to make profit
thereof unknown to others.
The tall, thin man was the innkeeper--evidently a timorous fellow; the
hunchback was his 'man'--malevolent probably, the doer of the other's
dark behests; whilst the woman was presumably his wife, the cook and
housekeeper of the ale-house.
Well, while they slept he would investigate and complete his plans for
the early morn at the time when all three would reappear and drive forth
their flocks again.
There was a small haystack at the west end of the inn, which Donald
marked out as his resting-place for the night. Thither he made his
cautious way--the _piobaireachd_ sounding ever more clearly in his ears.
When he reached the haystack the melody seemed to be intensified; then
suddenly he heard it no more.
Ha! a flash of inspiration shook him. This must be the very spot where
Alastair was done to death--perhaps even buried here. He looked about
him and noted that the wind was freshening and the mist was scurrying in
dense clouds above as if it might lift, and then the moon might light
him to further discovery.
Thus reflecting he sat down behind the stack, and waited patiently for
the moon to rise and shine above the mist.
An hour passed, then a faint glimmer showed in the east above
Shillmoor's edge.
He stood up and peeped round the stack; he could distinguish the rounded
moon--nearly at the full--beating with white wings like an owl through
the tangled mist.
In another quarter of an hour he could see sufficiently well to commence
investigation. He noted as he searched the ground about him that quite
recently the earth had been disturbed
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