thicket.

"Ay, fire away," soliloquised Quentin. "Ye seldom hit when ye can see.
It's no' likely ye'll dae muckle better i' the dark."

The dog, however, having discovered the track of the hidden men, rushed
up the bank towards them. The shepherd picked up a stone, and, waiting
till the animal was near enough, flung it with such a true aim that the
dog went howling back to the road. On this a volley from the carbines
of the troopers cut up the bushes all around them.

"That'll dae noo. Come awa', Wull," said the shepherd, rising and
proceeding farther into the thicket by a scarce visible footpath. "The
horses canna follow us here unless they hae the legs an' airms o'
puggies. As for the men, they'd have to cut a track to let their big
boots pass. We may tak' it easy, for they're uncommon slow at loadin'."

In a few minutes the two friends were beyond all danger. Returning then
to the road about a mile farther on, they continued to journey until
they had left the scene of the great communion far behind them, and when
day dawned they retired to a dense thicket in a hollow by the banks of a
little burn, and there rested till near sunset, when the journey was
resumed. That night they experienced considerable delay owing to the
intense darkness. Towards dawn the day following Quentin Dick led his
companion into a wild, thickly-wooded place which seemed formed by
nature as a place of refuge for a hunted creature--whether man or beast.

Entering the mouth of what seemed to be a cavern, he bade his companion
wait. Presently a sound, as of the cry of some wild bird, was heard.
It was answered by a similar cry in the far distance. Soon after the
shepherd returned, and, taking his companion by the hand, led him into
the cave which, a few paces from its mouth, was profoundly dark. Almost
immediately a glimmering light appeared. A few steps farther, and
Wallace found himself in the midst of an extraordinary scene.

The cavern at its inner extremity was an apartment of considerable size,
and the faint light of a few lanterns showed that the place was clouded
by smoke from a low fire of wood that burned at the upper end. Here,
standing, seated, and reclining, were assembled all sorts and conditions
of men--some in the prime and vigour of life; some bowed with the weight
of years; others, both young and old, gaunt and haggard from the
influence of disease and suffering, and many giving evidence by their
aspect that