Flemington would have given a great deal to run after him, and could easily have overtaken the cart, for its pace was not very formidable. But the whole community, including the tow-headed little girl, was watching Skirling Wattie out of sight and speculating, he knew, upon his own identity. So he walked leisurely on till the road turned at the top of the hill, and he was rewarded at the other side of its bend by the sight of the beggar halting his team by a pond at which the dogs were drinking. He threw a look around and behind him; then, as no human creature was to be seen, he gave a loud whistle, holding up his arm, and began to run. Skirling Wattie awaited him at the pond-side, and as Archie approached, he could almost feel his bold eyes searching him from top to toe. He stopped by the cart. "My name is Flemington," said he. "A've heard worse," replied the other calmly. "And I have a description of you in my pocket," continued Archie. "Perhaps you would like to see it." The beggar looked up at him from under his bushy eyebrows, with a smile of the most robust and genial effrontery that he had ever seen on a human face. "A'd need to," said he. Archie took a folded paper from his pocket. "You see that signature," he said, putting his forefinger on it. The other reached up to take the paper. "No, no," said Flemington, "this never goes out of my hand." "That's you!" exclaimed the beggar, with some admiration. "Put it back. A' ken it." He unhooked his leather bag, which hung inside the cart on its front board. This Archie perceived to be made, apparently for additional strength, of two thicknesses of wood. Skirling Wattie slid the inner plank upwards, and the young man saw a couple of sealed letters hidden behind it, one of which was addressed to himself. "Tak' yon," said the beggar, as the sound of a horse's tread was heard not far off, "tak' it quick an' syne awa' ye gang! Mind ye, a gang ilka twa days frae Montrose to Brechin, an a'm aye skirlin' as a gang." "And do you take this one and have it sent on from Brechin," said Archie hurriedly, handing him the letter he had written to Madam Flemington. The other wagged the back of his head, and laid a finger against the rim of his bonnet. Archie struck into the fields by the pond, and had time to drop down behind a whin-bush before an inoffensive-looking farmer went by on his way between the two towns. The beggar continued his progress, singing to himself, and Flemington, who did not care to face the mill and the curious eyes of the tow-headed little girl again, took a line across country back to Balnillo. He hated the tow-headed little girl. CHAPTER IV BUSINESS EVENTS seemed to Flemington to be moving fast. Lord Balnillo dined soon after five, and during the meal the young man tried to detach his mind from the contents of the letter lying in his pocket and to listen to his host's talk, which ran on the portrait to be begun next morning.