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           Severaltimeshefetchedmeatwodays’oldScotsman,andInoticedthattheinterestinthePortlandPlacemurderseemedtohavedieddown.Therewasnomentionofit,andIcouldfindverylittleaboutanythingexceptathingcalledtheGeneralAssembly—someecclesiasticalspree,Igathered.

           Onedayheproducedmybeltfromalockfastdrawer.“There’saterribleheapo’sillerin’t,”hesaid.“Ye’dbettercoontittoseeit’sa’there.”

           Heneverevensoughtmyname.Iaskedhimifanybodyhadbeenaroundmakinginquiriessubsequenttomyspellattheroad-making.

           “Ay,therewasamaninamotor-cawr.Hespeiredwhaehadta’enmyplacethatday,andIletonIthochthimdaft.Buthekeepitonatme,andsyneIsaidhemaunbethinkin’o’mygude-britherfraetheCleuchthatwhileslentmeahaun’.Hewasawersh-lookin’sowl,andIcouldnaunderstandthehalfo’hisEnglishtongue.”

           Iwasgettingrestlessthoselastdays,andassoonasIfeltmyselffitIdecidedtobeoff.ThatwasnottillthetwelfthdayofJune,andasluckwouldhaveitadroverwentpastthatmorningtakingsomecattletoMoffat.HewasamannamedHislop,afriendofTurnbull’s,andhecameintohisbreakfastwithusandofferedtotakemewithhim.

           ImadeTurnbullacceptfivepoundsformylodging,andahardjobIhadofit.Thereneverwasamoreindependentbeing.HegrewpositivelyrudewhenIpressedhim,andshyandred,andtookthemoneyatlastwithoutathankyou.