shook it heartily. "Cheer up, Mem," he
observed. "There's a better time coming." His last recollection of
her eyes was of a soft mistiness not far from tears. His pouch and pipe
had strange company jostling them in his pocket as he followed the
others down the ladder into the night.

Dougal insisted that they must return by the road of the morning. "We
daren't go by the Laver, for that would bring us by the public-house.
If the worst comes to the worst, and we fall in wi' any of the deevils,
they must think ye've changed your mind and come back from
Auchenlochan."

The night smelt fresh and moist as if a break in the weather were
imminent. As they scrambled along the Garple Dean a pinprick of light
below showed where the tinklers were busy by their fire. Dickson's
spirits suffered a sharp fall and he began to marvel at his temerity.
What in Heaven's name had he undertaken? To carry very precious
things, to which certainly he had no right, through the enemy to
distant Glasgow. How could he escape the notice of the watchers? He
was already suspect, and the sight of him back again in Dalquharter
would double that suspicion. He must brazen it out, but he distrusted
his powers with such tell-tale stuff in his pockets. They might murder
him anywhere on the moor road or in an empty railway carriage. An
unpleasant memory of various novels he had read in which such things
happened haunted his mind.... There was just one consolation. This job
over, he would be quit of the whole business. And honourably quit,
too, for he would have played a manly part in a most unpleasant affair.
He could retire to the idyllic with the knowledge that he had not been
wanting when Romance called. Not a soul should ever hear of it, but he
saw himself in the future tramping green roads or sitting by his winter
fireside pleasantly retelling himself the tale.

Before they came to the Garple bridge Dougal insisted that they should
separate, remarking that "it would never do if we were seen thegither."
Heritage was despatched by a short cut over fields to the left, which
eventually, after one or two plunges into ditches, landed him safely in
Mrs. Morran's back yard. Dickson and Dougal crossed the bridge and
tramped Dalquharter-wards by the highway. There was no sign of human
life in that quiet place with owls hooting and rabbits rustling in the
undergrowth. Beyond the woods they came in sight of the light in the
back kitchen, and both se