The judge turned to his brother. It was not the first time that the ford in the Den of Balnillo had been the scene of disaster, for there was an unlucky hole in it, and the state of the roads made storm-bound and bedraggled visitors common apparitions in the lives of country gentlemen. "If ye'll come wi' me, ma lord, ye'll hear him," said the labourer, to whom the profane victim of the ford was evidently an object of admiration. Balnillo looked down at his silk stockings and buckled shoes. "I should be telling the lasses to get a bed ready," he remarked hurriedly, as he re-entered the house. James was already throwing his leg across the fence, though it was scarcely the cursing which attracted him, for he had heard oaths to suit every taste in his time. He hurried across the grass after the labourer. The night was not very dark, and they made straight for the ford. The Den of Balnillo ran from north to south, not a quarter of a mile from the house, and the long chain of miry hollows and cart-ruts which did duty for a high road from Perth to Aberdeen plunged through it at the point for which the men were heading. It was a steep ravine filled with trees and stones, through which the Balnillo burn flowed and fell and scrambled at different levels on its way to join the Basin of Montrose, as the great estuary of the river Esk was called. The ford lay just above one of the falls by which the water leaped downwards, and the dense darkness of the surrounding trees made it difficult for Captain Logie to see what was happening as he descended into the black well of the Den. He could distinguish a confusion of objects by the light of the lantern which his brother's men had brought and set upon a stone; the ford itself reflected nothing, for it was churned up into a sea of mud, in which, as Logie approached, the outline of a good-sized carriage, lying upon its side, became visible. "Yonder's the captain coming," said a voice. Someone lifted the lantern, and he found himself confronted by a tall young man, whose features he could not see, but who was, no doubt, the expert in language. "Sir," he said, "I fear you have had a bad accident. I am come from Lord Balnillo to find out what he can do for you." "His lordship is mighty good," replied the young man, "and if he could force this mud-hole--which, I am told, belongs to him--to yield up my conveyance, I should be his servant for life." There was a charm and softness in his voice which nullified the brisk impertinence of his words. "I hope you are not hurt," said James. "Not at all, sir. Providence has spared me. But He has had no mercy upon one of my poor nags, which has broken its knees, nor on my stock-in-trade, which is in the water. I am a travelling painter," he added quickly, "and had best introduce myself. My name is Archibald Flemington." The stranger had a difficulty in pronouncing his _r's_; he spoke them like a Frenchman, with a purring roll.