"This mornin’ I left my lodgings wi’ full purpose and intention o’ gaun to see the widda. Weel, it’s a lang road and a drouthy, so before leavin’ the toon I drapped into the Hole i’ the Wa’, to ha’e a pint o’ tippenny. It’s a hoose I aye frequent when I’m in Dumfries. Weel, as I was tellin’ ye, I was sittin’ in the corner, and I’d juist passed the time o’ day wi’ the landlord, when in daundered twa sodgers. As soon as I saw the sicht o’ their coats, my ears were cocked to catch their words. They were talkin’ as they cam’ in. The ane was sayin’ to the ither; ’I could stake my life it was him.’ They sat doon and ordered their yill, and went on talkin’. I didna catch a’ that they said, but they hadna been talkin’ long ere I guessed it was aboot you. I juist got a word noo and again, but I’ve pit them thegither. They went something like this: "’Aye, at Wigtown, the nicht efter the women were drooned.’ "’Then what think ye he’s daein’ here?’ "’Oh, I canna tell that.’ "’I thocht ye had lang syne made up your mind that he had deid on the moors like a braxy sheep. What’s this they ca’d him?---- Oh, ay,--Bryden. What mak’s you think it was him?’ "’Weel, I saw him yesterday in the High Street. He had a week’s growth on his face, and that in itsel’ is a disguise, and he walks wi’ a limp, which he didna dae when he was wi’ us; but what jogged my memory was a wee jerk he gied his shoothers. I couldna mind off-haun’ where I had seen it afore. Hooever, an ’oor afterwards when I was thinkin’ o’ something else, it flashed across me that Bryden used to move his shoother and his left elbow exactly that wey. So says I to masel’, that’s the man; and I went back to the place where I’d seen him. Of coorse he was there nae langer.’ "’What are ye gaun to dae? Ha’e ye tellt yer Captain yet?" "’No’ me! I’m no’ sae saft. I’m keepin’ my een open, an’ if he’s still in Dumfries I’ll be comin’ across him ere lang and I’ll arrest him on suspicion, and tak’ him afore Lag himsel’. Man, there’s a price on his heid.’ "Weel, I had learned a lot, and I knew it was you they were after, for I ha’e noticed the jerk o’ your left elbow tae. So I made up my mind that afore I should gang oot to Locharbriggs I wad slip across to Phemie McBride’s and gi’e ye warning. So I finished my yill and paid my score an’ set oot. "Juist as I was aboot to leave the close-mooth, a dragoon clapped me on the shoother and said: "’You’re Hector the packman, are ye no?’ "’Ay,’ says I. ’What of it?’ "’Weel,’ says he, ’ye maun come wi’ me. Ye’re wanted.’ "’Wanted?’ says I. ’Wha wants me?’ "’Sir Robert Grier o’ Lag. I’ve nae doot ye’ve heard tell o’ him.’ "’Ay,’ I answered, ’I ken Sir Robert weel. What does he want wi’ me?’ "’Come and fin’ oot for yoursel’,’ said he. ’An’ ye’d better mak’ haste, for if we keep him waitin’ there’ll be hell to pey. Haste ye!’