They had not gone many steps from the top of the ascent, however, before the fugitive threw himself on the ground exhausted, and it was all Malcolm could do to get him to the town, where, unable to go a pace further, he sank down on Mrs Catanach’s door-step. A light was burning in the cottage, but Malcolm would seek shelter for him anywhere rather than with her, and, in terror of her quick ears, caught him up in his arms like a child, and hurried away with him to Miss Horn’s. “Eh sirs!” exclaimed Miss Horn, when she opened the door--for Jean was among the merry-makers--“wha’s this ’at’s killt noo?” “It’s the--laird--Mr Stewart,” returned Malcolm. “He’s no freely killt, but nigh han’.” “Na! weel I wat! Come in an’ set him doon till we see,” said Miss Horn, turning and leading the way up to her little parlour. There Malcolm laid his burden on the sofa, and gave a brief account of the rescue. “Lord preserve ’s, Ma’colm!” cried Miss Horn, as soon as he had ended his tale, to which she had listened in silence, with fierce eyes and threatening nose; “isna ’t a mercy I wasna made like some fowk, or I couldna ha’ bidden to see the puir fallow misguidet that gait! It’s a special mercy, Ma’colm MacPhail, to be made wantin’ ony sic thing as feelin’s.” She was leaving the room as she spoke--to return instantly with brandy. The laird swallowed some with an effort, and began to revive. “Eh, sirs!” exclaimed Miss Horn, regarding him now more narrowly --“but he’s in an awfu’ state o’ dirt! I maun wash his face an’ han’s, an’ pit him till ’s bed. Could _ye_ help aff wi’ ’s claes, Ma’colm? Though I haena ony feelin’s, I’m jist some eerie-like at the puir body’s back.” The last words were uttered in what she judged a safe aside. As if she had been his mother, she washed his face and hands, and dried them tenderly, the laird submitting like a child. He spoke but one word--when she took him by the hand to lead him to the room where her cousin used to sleep: “Father o’ lichts!” he said, and no more. Malcolm put him to bed, where he lay perfectly still, whether awake or asleep they could not tell. He then set out to go back to Lossie House, promising to return after he had taken his grandfather home, and seen him also safe in bed. CHAPTER XXV. THE NIGHT WATCH.