"Oh, that’s easy enough. If ye come down noo I’ll let ye see the clue," said Watty, and, accordingly, they again scrambled through the thicket to the edge of the stream. "Ye see that muckle black rock jist like a table," said Watty, pointing to a huge mass lying in the bed of the water. "It’s jist directly opposite that. If ye keep straicht up ye canna’ miss it." "All right; I’ll remember," said Adam, and the twain then left the ravine and rapidly retraced their steps towards the haunts of men. It was now about half-past five, so Watty, in alarm lest he should be stopped and questioned, left Adam Hepburn just behind Hartrigge, and taking to his heels, fled with the utmost speed back to the village. *CHAPTER XVII* *A SHOCK OF CORN FULLY RIPE.* The body of dragoons stationed in the village of Inverburn were so constantly upon the alert, and swept so wide a range of the surrounding district, that it was well-nigh impossible for the fugitives to leave their hiding either by night or day. They had removed to the safer hiding of Watty’s hole in the Witches’ Cleugh [glen or ravine], and thither Jane Gray, courageous as usual, carried their provisions, either in the very early morning, or after the moon was up at night. They had made the place as comfortable as it was possible under the circumstances, having formed themselves couches of dried leaves over which were spread the substantial coverings which Jane had carried to them by degrees. She was now abiding constantly at Hartrigge, where all Adam Hepburn’s most valuable goods had been removed, and Rowallan shut up. As for the stock, the soldiers had relieved him of any anxiety regarding it by removing it all for their own use and profit. So Rowallan was now a deserted and desolate homestead, about which the owls screeched mournfully at night, and the bats flapped their weird wings unheeded and undisturbed against the shuttered windows. The people of the village were now driven to church at the point of the sword, consequently the curate’s services were no longer disgraced by meagre attendances. As the people listened to the mockery of worship he conducted within the now desecrated walls, they bowed their heads in sorrow and shame, knowing very well that directly the services were over he would be away drinking with the officers of the regiment. His excesses, which were not confined to week-days, had now become a public scandal, so much so, that Sir Thomas Hamilton in disgust had ceased to attend the church of Inverburn, and had returned to the ministrations of John Methven, at Lochlee.