"There seems something in this, Dunwoodie," the sheriff said, "and if you cannot explain it I must keep you in custody." "I'll make a clean breast o't," Dunwoodie replied, seeing that in this matter truth was best. "The laddie was terrible against being made a gentleman, and when he saw the kind o' life he would hae to lead, clean hands, clean dickies, and no gutters on his breeks, his heart took mair scunner at genteelity than ever, and he ran hame. Ay, I was mad when I saw him at the fireside, but he says to me, 'How would you like to be a gentleman yoursel', father?' he says, and that so affected me 'at I'm to gie him his ain way." Another prisoner, Dave Langlands, was confronted with Dunwoodie. "John Dunwoodie's as innocent as I am mysel," Dave said, "and I'm most michty innocent. It wasna John but the Egyptian that gave the alarm. I tell you what, sheriff, if it'll make me innocenter-like I'll picture the Egyptian to you just as I saw her, and syne you'll be able to catch her easier." "You are an honest fellow," said the sheriff. "I only wish I had the whipping of him," growled Halliwell, who was of a generous nature. "For what business had she," continued Dave righteously, "to meddle in other folks' business? She's no a Thrums lassie, and so I say, 'Let the law take its course on her.'" "Will you listen to such a cur, Riach?" asked Halliwell. "Certainly. Speak out, Langlands." "Weel, then, I was in the windmill the nicht." "You were a watcher?" "I happened to be in the windmill wi' another man," Dave went on, avoiding the officer's question. "What was his name?" demanded Halliwell. "It was the Egyptian I was to tell you about," Dave said, looking to the sheriff. "Ah, yes, you only tell tales about women," said Halliwell. "Strange women," corrected Dave. "Weel, we was there, and it would maybe be twal o'clock, and we was speaking (but about lawful things) when we heard some ane running yont the road. I keeked through a hole in the door, and I saw it was an Egyptian lassie 'at I had never clapped een on afore. She saw the licht in the window, and she cried, 'Hie, you billies in the windmill, the sojers is coming!' I fell in a fricht, but the other man opened the door, and again she cries, 'The sojers is coming; quick, or you'll be ta'en.' At that the other man up wi' his bonnet and ran, but I didna make off so smart." "You had to pick yourself up first," suggested the officer. "Sal, it was the lassie picked me up; ay, and she picked up a horn at the same time." "'Blaw on that,' she cried, 'and alarm the town.' But, sheriff, I didna do't. Na, I had ower muckle respect for the law." "In other words," said Halliwell, "you also bolted, and left the gypsy to blow the horn herself." "I dinna deny but what I made my feet my friend, but it wasna her that blew the horn. I ken that, for I looked back and saw her trying to do't, but she couldna, she didna ken the way." "Then who did blow it?"