Rob slipped from group to group, listening to a word here and there, feeling a bitter contempt in his heart for these people of streets and shops. The Hanoverian soldiers had passed out of Inverness by midday, and crossing the Moray Firth retired into Ross-shire, and still the clatter of voices went on, and here and there a group of men were walking the streets with claymores at their sides, ready for the arrival of the Prince. At last Rob Fraser, grown weary of idling, turned in the direction of the school, and stealing inside the doorway was astonished to find it very quiet and empty, and with no sign of boy or master. Of that master, whose name was the strange one of Ephraim Macaulay, something must be said. He had arrived in Inverness three months earlier, on the introduction of the Lord President Forbes, and his predecessor had been asked to retire. The whole business was very mysterious. Some said the old schoolmaster (who was a whole-hearted Jacobite) would return, and others that he was in disgrace with the Government, and counted as a conspirator for the Stuarts. At any rate, Mr. Macaulay appeared, and from the moment he had entered the place Rob had hated him with all his heart. Mr. Macaulay was an exceedingly tall, thin man, very straight and smileless, with a long, hatchet face. He was decently dressed in black clothes, and wore silver buckles on his shoes, but there was something strange in his manner, and in his secrecy, and there had been rumours that he saw overmuch of Lord Loudon. In his aspect there was a strong resemblance to a hawk, through his habit of staring unblinkingly into space. For minutes together he would stand thus, and then of a sudden he would start and stare keenly about him with his sombre black eyes, and awaken, as it were, to his duties, which he seemed to find utterly irksome and dejecting. Rob went on tiptoe into the room where he was in the habit of listening (somewhat absently) to the words of Ephraim Macaulay, and crossing the floor, peered into the shadowy passage which led to the schoolmaster's study. The door was ajar, and from the room beyond came the sound of voices, a low grumble in deep undertones, as though two men were in close conversation--and very full of it. He heard a chair fall as though a man had sprung to his feet, and while he hesitated Mr. Macaulay cried "Muckle John" in a tone of surprise and agitation. "In Inverness," replied another voice strange to Rob. Rob turned to steal away, but even as he did so the murmur of voices ceased, and before he could make off, the study door was flung back, and the long arm of the schoolmaster shot out and clutched his shoulder. It was so quickly done that he could not even duck for safety, and before he could shake himself free, the master's companion had cut off his retreat and gripped his arms. He had been caught eavesdropping.