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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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