Chapter 19

           Nightfellaswewerewalking,andtheclouds,whichhadbrokenupintheafternoon,settledinandthickened,sothatitfell,fortheseasonoftheyear,extremelydark.Thewaywewentwasoverroughmountainsides;andthoughAlanpushedonwithanassuredmanner,Icouldbynomeansseehowhedirectedhimself.

           Atlast,abouthalf-pasttenoftheclock,wecametothetopofabrae,andsawlightsbelowus.Itseemedahousedoorstoodopenandletoutabeamoffireandcandle-light;andallroundthehouseandsteadingfiveorsixpersonsweremovinghurriedlyabout,eachcarryingalightedbrand.

           “Jamesmusthavetinthiswits,”saidAlan.“Ifthiswasthesoldiersinsteadofyouandme,hewouldbeinabonnymess.ButIdaresayhe’llhaveasentryontheroad,andhewouldkenwellenoughnosoldierswouldfindthewaythatwecame.”

           Hereuponhewhistledthreetimes,inaparticularmanner.Itwasstrangetoseehow,atthefirstsoundofit,allthemovingtorchescametoastand,asifthebearerswereaffrighted;andhow,atthethird,thebustlebeganagainasbefore.

           Havingthussetfolks’mindsatrest,wecamedownthebrae,andweremetattheyardgate(forthisplacewaslikeawell-doingfarm)byatall,handsomemanofmorethanfifty,whocriedouttoAlanintheGaelic.

           “JamesStewart,”saidAlan,“IwillaskyetospeakinScotch,forhereisayounggentlemanwithmethathasnaneoftheother.