"True," said Castleleathers, "which way will he come?" "He will come by this very road--I doubt but we'll meet him any minute." It was long before they heard the sound of a horse thudding up the glen, and very soon the squelch of its feet in the sodden ground. Instantly they crouched by the way, and then as the horseman drew level with them they raised their heads and took him in at a glance. He was a very heavily built man, muffled up in a riding cloak and with a bonnet upon his head. "A Mackenzie if ever there was one," whispered Castleleathers, and starting up came upon him from the slope of the hill and hauled him off his beast so that he uttered one startled cry and sprawled in the heather with his legs in the air. In the same grim silence, Castleleathers was upon his chest and with a dirk at his throat. "Is it to be the quick passage," he whispered in Gaelic, "or do you swear to do what is said?" There was a long silence. Mackenzie upon his back and helpless as a child was trying to see the tartan of the man above him. "Neil Mackenzie," said Castleleathers, "unless you forget what brought you here this night, you are not like to remember it at all." "Who are you?" gasped Mackenzie, trying to see the better. "I," replied Castleleathers, "am Muckle John." "Muckle John?" He doubted it, but it was black darkness where they lay amongst the heather. "What of the affair Loch Carron way?" continued Castleleathers. "You came poorly enough out of that. But I have a mind to end it this time. I am not a patient man and no one has dealings against me who does not at last regret it." "I will go back," said Mackenzie in a heavy tone like a man beaten once and for all. "You must tell your people that you are satisfied with the answer the Duke has given you." "I will--I swear it!" Castleleathers drew back and leaped to his feet. "Away then!" he said, "the road to the west lies clear. But if you so much as dream of treachery---no power can save you." In silence Mackenzie caught his horse and mounting it took the road for home, all the courage gone out of him. All that night he rode, and the next day, and when he reached Loch Carron he gave no word at all, but bore the aspect of a man who fears to look over his shoulder in the gloaming. As for Castleleathers and Miss Macpherson, being both people over middle life, they made their way stiffly homewards to an inn near Fort Augustus. It was over a basin of hot brose that he turned to her. "I am past ploys like these," he said, "but it smacks of the old days." "The young ones are no like the old ones," sighed Miss Macpherson. "None so old," rejoined Castleleathers, smiling at her suddenly. Miss Macpherson busied herself with her plate. "It's after Rob we must go the morn," she said. "It has been a great night," he remarked, nodding before the fire, "that Mackenzie was sair taken aback." "The Duke is no sae difficult to manage as folk say," hazarded Miss Macpherson.