“The road is the last place I would set foot on if I were a spy. You have been ranting in here at a great rate. Before I came to you I could hear every word that was said. One would think it was a Presbyterian convening, agreeing on the Scriptures. I knew Henderson’s opinion of me before I opened the door.” “You look like an eavesdropper,” retorted the man referred to, “and that you have a libellous ungoverned tongue is proven by every word you utter.” “Tut, tut, tut!” cried Traquair, “let us have no more bickering. This is serious business and not to be settled by bandying words. Now, Armstrong, the case stands like this. Will you----” The Earl was interrupted by a roar from the sentinel outside, which caused every man in the room to start to his feet; but before they could move, Angus came bursting in. “Somebody dropped from the hole on the loft above the stables, an’ wuz aff ta th’ wood afore I could stop him.” “To horse!” cried Traquair. “Mount instantly, and let’s after him.” “It’s useless, my lord,” said Armstrong quietly, the only unexcited man in the group. “Ye might as well look for some particular flea in all the Hielans. He’ll have a horse tied to a tree, and a thousand cavalry couldn’t catch him if he knows the wilds hereabout.” “It may be just some vagrant sleeping in the straw. The loft above the stables is not the loft above this room,” put in Henderson; but it was plain that he was frightened. He loved a real eavesdropper as little as did any of his comrades, and knew he had talked rather loudly at times, carried away by his fondness for opposition. Traquair stood frowning and indecisive, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Where’s the landlord?” he asked at last. “Angus, bring him in here.” The sentinel left the room and speedily reappeared with a cowering man, evidently as panic-stricken as any of his guests. “Have there been some stragglers about to-day?” demanded Traquair. “Not a soul, my lord, on my oath, not a soul.” “Is there connection between the room above and the loft over the stable?” “No possibility of it, my lord.” “What did I tell you?” said Henderson, plucking up courage again. “This turmoil is utterly without foundation.” “Dash it!” cried Armstrong with a gesture of impatience. “Will you take a man’s word for a thing you can prove in a moment? Get a ladder, Angus, and speel up through the hole the spy came out at. Take a torch, an’ if ye drop a lowe in the straw you’ll no’ be blamed for it by me. See if you can win your way through from the stables to the house.” “Go at once, Angus,” commanded Traquair; then to the landlord, who showed signs of wishing to be elsewhere. “No; you stay here.” “I’m feared th’ man wull set fire ta the place,” whined the landlord. “Better be feared o’ the rope that will be round your neck if you have lied to us,” said the Earl grimly, and as he spoke they heard the tramp of the sentinel’s feet overhead.