All the following day, David Hackstoun of Rathillet was anxiously expected by his brethren in arms, in the vale of Avondale. And when night closed, and there were yet no signs of him, they began to tremble lest some evil had befallen him. Early upon the second morning, however, when that good man and faithful supporter of the Covenanters, Gideon Dickson, the farmer of Windyedge, was leading out his horses as usual to water, he beheld a horseman coming, but slowly and dejectedly, up the road. He at once ran into the house, awakened his distinguished guests, who speedily dressed and got out of doors, just as the horseman rode into the yard. "David Hackstoun! verily, glad am I to behold your face," said Balfour, advancing to meet him. "We feared, and not without cause, that your unwise delay had cost you dear." "It was like to be my end," answered Rathillet, with a faint smile, and he was so weary that they had to assist him to alight; then he very cordially greeted Sir Robert Hamilton, with whom he had some slight and very agreeable acquaintance. "I had a desperate ride, especially betwixt Stirling and Avondale," he said, in answer to their inquiries. "There is a price of 10,000 marks upon my head, and you can readily imagine that there are many greedy vultures on my track. But, truly, I think that as yet the direction of my flight is not known." "Is there no price upon my head also?" queried Balfour. "Yes, we are accounted equal prey, but the proclamation is so worded that the rewards fall to whoever shall lay hands on any one of those who were present at or took part in Sharp’s assassination," returned Rathillet. "But, come, tell me how is it you are abiding in such apparent ease here? I thought it would have been unsafe to shelter under any man’s roof-tree." "So it is, but this is a very remote place, and difficult of access, and there are many ways of escape from it," returned Sir Robert Hamilton. "And our brethren in arms are not far distant." "Ah well, very gladly will I rest awhile with you, for I am as sore spent as ever man was," said Hackstoun. "And never did I expect to reach this place alive. The last place I ventured to ask concerning you was a little moorland shieling, where a woman was dwelling alone. She told me her husband was with the army, and that she was making preparations to retire to her kinsfolk in Hamilton, being in daily terror of a visit from the dragoons, who had shot her sister not many weeks ago, when she was returning from a preaching."