"There is just one thing to do, Rob, and that maybe will sound mighty ludicrous; but it is always the foolish tricks that are the hardest to unravel. When I asked you to show yoursel' upon the lochside, where it is mair light than I had looked for, it was because I had a thought, Rob, and it's just this: there are one or two gentry in this neighbourhood uncommon anxious to watch my doings this night, and, being a modest man, Rob, I'm no overpleased at the notion," and he brought his head a little nearer. "Supposing, Rob," he whispered, "you were to take my place upon the lochside for a wee half an hour, or maybe a little over?" "Take your place?" "Aye; put on my wig and coat (the hat I shall require), and when the moon is hid by a cloud, just scrunch upon the pebbles, and sit ye doon so that your kilt is hid. It would tak' the eyes o' an owl to see anything amiss in this dim light, Rob. Will ye do it, lad? Would ye? It is for the Prince, bless him." "Give me your wig and coat," said Rob for answer. With a sigh of relief and no further word, Cameron set the wig upon his head, and wrapped the long great-coat about him, turning up the collar. Then they remained in silence gazing at the cold grey sky. "Quick," said he, at last, "there's a cloud coming," and he pushed Rob gently from the gloom of the trees. At the same time he sang a line of a song for any who might doubt him, and fell back out of sight. When the moon swam out of the fleeting patch of cloud it fell upon the figure of a man who was sitting on a low piece of rock, with his elbows on his knees, and his back to the shore, and in the dead stillness of the night who could guess how many watched that black, crouching form, wondering why he never rose or walked about, but only sat with his chin in his hand, staring out across the loch. Meanwhile Cameron passed noiselessly back to the place where the casks lay. Forewarned is forearmed, and he was not foolish enough to suppose that the hiding of treasure in the Cameron country would be an easy matter. His clan had much love for him, but they also had an uncommon respect for gold, and times were hard. So a week before the frigate had flashed into Loch-na-nuagh he had dug a hole under a rock in the stream which ran into Loch Arkaig, and inside the hole had hidden a small barrel for holding half the contents of the casks (which contained bags of louis d'or). The other half, for safety, he had resolved to conceal elsewhere, while the casks, empty of gold, he had decided to bury in a hasty fashion just where Rob had placed them. And in this manner the stiff work began, for only two hours of darkness remained.