ed tones. Jean Black and her cousin Aggie Wilson had
reported their _rencontre_ with the two dragoons, and Quentin Dick had
himself seen the main body of the troops from behind a heather bush on
his way back to the farm, therefore caution was advisable. But as they
climbed Skeoch Hill, and the moon shed a few feeble rays on their path,
they began to converse more freely. For a few minutes their intercourse
related chiefly to sheep and the work of the farm, for both Andrew and
his man were of that sedate, imperturbable nature which is not easily
thrown off its balance by excitement or danger. Then their thoughts
turned to the business in hand.

"Nae fear o' the sodgers comin' here on a nicht like this," remarked
Andrew, as a squall nearly swept the blue bonnet off his head.

"Maybe no," growled Quentin Dick sternly, "but I've heard frae Tam
Chanter that servants o' that Papist Earl o' Nithsdale, an' o' the
scoondrel Sir Robert Dalziel, hae been seen pokin' their noses aboot at
Irongray. If they git wund o' the place, we're no likely to hae a quiet
time o't. Did ye say that the sodgers ill-used the bairns?"

"Na!--ane o' them was inclined to be impident, but the ither, a
guid-lookin' young felly, accordin' to Jean, took their pairt an'
quarrelled wi' his comrade, sae that they cam to loggerheeds at last,
but what was the upshot naebody kens, for the bairns took to their heels
an' left them fechtin'."

"An' what if they sud fin' yer hoose an' the bairns unproteckit?" asked
the shepherd.

"They're no likely to fin' the hoose in a nicht like this, man; an' if
they do, they'll fin' naebody but Ramblin' Peter there, for I gied the
lassies an' the women strick orders to tak' to the hidy-hole at the
first soond o' horses' feet."

By this time the men had reached a secluded hollow in the hill, so
completely enclosed as to be screened from observation on all sides.
They halted here a few moments, for two dark forms were seen in the
uncertain light to be moving about just in front of them.

"It's them," whispered Andrew.

"Whae?" asked the shepherd.

"Alexander McCubine an' Edward Gordon."

"Guid an' safe men baith," responded Quentin; "ye better gie them a
cry."

Andrew did so by imitating the cry of a plover. It was replied to at
once.

"The stanes are big, ye see," explained Andrew, while the two men were
approaching. "It'll tak' the strength o' the fowr o' us to lift some o'
them."

"We've got the cair