But toward the end of August, when the nights grew longer and the sunsets stormy, a change came over the weather. The Lammas floods first broke the spell of the drought, and for three clear days the rain fell in torrents, while I lay in my hole, cold and shivering. These were days of suffering and hunger, though I shrink from writing of them and have never told them to anyone. On the fourth I made an incursion down to my own lands to the cottage of my ally. There I heard evil news. The soldiers had come oftener than of late and the hunt had been renewed. The reward on my head had been doubled, and with much sorrow I had the news that the miller of Holmes Mill had been taken and carried to Edinburgh. In these dim grey days my courage fell, and it took all the consolations of philosophy, all my breeding and manly upbringing to keep up my heart. Also it became more difficult to go at the three weeks’ end to the cairn on Caerdon with the letter for Marjory. It was, as far as I remember, for I did not keep good count, on the second day of September, that I set out for Caerdon on my wonted errand. I had had word from Robin Sandilands that the countryside was perilous; but better, I thought, that I should run into danger than that my lady should have any care on my account. So I clapped the written letter in my pocket and set out over the hills in a fine storm of wind. I went down the little burn of Scrape, which flows into Powsail about a mile above the village of Drummelzier. Had I dared I would have crossed the low lands just above the village, and forded Tweed at Merlin’s Grave, and so won to Caerdon by Rachan and Broughton. But now it behooved me to be cautious, so I kept straight over the hills; and, striking the source of a stream called Hopecarton, followed it to where it joined the river in the Mossfennan haughs. All the time the wind whistled in my teeth and the sharpest of showers bit into my skin. I was soon soaked to the bone, for which I cared very little, but pushed steadfastly on through the rapidly-rising waters of Tweed, and scrambled up the back of the Wormel. Here it was stiff work, and my legs ached mightily ere I reached the top and flung myself on the damp heather to spy out the Holmes valley. All seemed quiet. The stream, now changed from its clearness to a muddy brown, was rolling on its way though the fields of stubble. The few houses smoked in peace. The narrow road was empty of travellers.... Without hesitation I ran down the slopes, caring not to look circumspectly to the left and right.... I had not run far till something before me brought me to a halt and sent me flat among the grass. Just below the house of Quarter, coming from the cover of the trees, were half a score of soldiers.