"The mornin’ slipped by, and still Lag wasna’ ready to see me. Every noo and then the wee drummer laddie raced through the kitchen wi’ anither pail o’ water frae the Nith, and when he had disappeared wi’ the water jaup-jaupping ower the side o’ the bucket, the troopers would nudge each other and say ’Guid sakes, his feet maun be in hell already,’ and the callousness o’ their words would mak’ me shiver. Fegs, the Latin has it best: ’_Horresco referens_’--’It gies me a grue to think o’t.’ "By and by the clock struck one and we had oor dinner thegither. I’m bound to say that if the troopers’ ’Solway waters’ was guid, the victuals were likewise o’ excellent quality, and I made a guid meal. It was maybe twa o’clock when the sodger that had been in Lag’s room cam’ doon into the kitchen. I thocht noo my ’oor had arrived and that I should yet ha’e time to get oot to Locharbriggs afore I was due to meet you. But nae sic luck! ’He’s asleep noo,’ he said. ’He’s managed to droon the pain in Nith water and a couple o’ bottles o’ Oporto.’ Weel, I saw that the outlook was no’ very bricht for me; but I made anither attempt to persuade my guard to let me away for an’ ’oor or twa, promisin’ solemnly that I should return punctually. But he would ha’e nane o’t. So there I was, kept a prisoner, and the afternoon dragged wearily by. "At lang last six o’clock cam’, and I knew that if you hadna fa’en into the haun’s o’ the troopers you would be waitin’ for me at the Port o’ Vennel. I was sair perplexed. I wondered if I daur bribe the wee drummer to tak’ a note to you, and I had framed a suitable epistle in Latin that I jaloused nane o’ thae ignorant troopers would understaun’. Then I thocht better o’t; for a note to you frae me micht direct their attention to you, and I didna want that. The ’oors o’ the evenin’ flitted awa’ and by and by it cam’ to half-past nine, and the sodger cam’ doon the stairs again and said: ’Sir Robert is awake noo and wants to see the packman.’ "So I went up the stairs, and as I left the kitchen ane o’ the troopers laughingly cried after me: "’If he wants to put "the boot" on ye, ye’d best offer him your tree-leg. He’s likely tae be that drunk he winna ken the differ.’ "The sodger that was his body-servant threw open the door o’ his room and said: ’The packman, sir,’ and in I stepped as bold as ye like. He was sittin’ in a big chair wrapped in a lang flowered goon. His feet rested on twa big cushions and were rolled up in bandages. Juist beside the cushions stood a basin o’ water; it was the same, nae doot, that the wee drummer boy had been kept busy fillin’. Lag glowered at me as I cam’ through the door, and twisted roon’ in his chair. "’Good evening, Sir Robert,’ says I. ’I hope you are feeling better.’ "His brow gathered in a knot, and he growled: ’Wha the devil said I had been ill? I havena asked ye here to talk aboot mysel’. It’s you I want to put a few questions to.’