James Logie, who had started his career in Lord Orkney's regiment of foot with the Scots Brigade in Holland, had the same fresh complexion as his brother and the same dark blue eyes; but they were eyes that had a different expression, and that seemed to see one thing at a time. He was a squarer, shorter man than Lord Balnillo, quicker of speech and movement. His mouth was a little crooked, for the centre of his lower lip did not come exactly under the centre of the upper one, and this slight mistake on the part of Nature had given his face a not unpleasant look of virility. Most people who passed James gave him a second glance. Both men were carefully dressed and wore fine cambric cravats and laced coats; and the shoes of the judge, which rested on the fender, were adorned by gilt buckles. They had been silent for some time, as people are who have come to the same conclusion and find that there is no more to say, and in the quietness the heavy undercurrent of sound from the coast seemed to grow more insistent. "The bar is very loud to-night, Jamie," said Lord Balnillo. "I doubt but there's bad weather coming, and I am loth to lose more trees." "I see that the old beech by the stables wants a limb," observed the other. "That's the only change about the place that I notice." "There'll be more yet," said the judge. "You've grown weather-wise since you left Edinburgh, David." "I had other matters to think upon there," answered Balnillo, with some pomp. James smiled faintly, making the little twist in his lip more apparent. "Come out to the steps and look at the night," said he, snatching, like most restless men, at the chance of movement. They went out through the hall. James unbarred the front door and the two stood at the top of the flight of stone steps. The entrance to Balnillo House faced northward, and a wet wind from the east, slight still, but rising, struck upon their right cheeks and carried the heavy muffled booming in through the trees. Balnillo looked frowning at their tops, which had begun to sway; but his brother's attention was fixed upon a man's figure, which was emerging from the darkness of the grass park in front of them. "Who is that?" cried the judge, as the footsteps grew audible. "It's a coach at the ford, ma lord--a muckle coach that's couped i' the water! Wully an' Tam an' Andrew Robieson are seekin' to ca' it oot, but it's fast, ma lord----" "Is there anyone in it?" interrupted James. "Ay, there was. But he's oot noo." "Where is he?" "He'll na' get forward the night," continued the man. "Ane of the horse is lame. He cursin', ma lord, an' nae wonder--he can curse bonnie! Robieson's got his wee laddie wi' him, and he gar'd the loonie put his hands to his lugs. He's an elder, ye see."