Leadhills was the nearest inhabited abode to this lonely shieling; and any little necessaries which so humble a cottage required were obtained from this village. In consequence of this intercourse, it was early known at the shieling of Lowtherslacks, that the strictest search had been made, and was still making, for the prisoners, and for the rescuers at the Pass of Enterkin; that several had been taken, and marched off to Edinburgh; but whether William Macdougal was of the number or not was not ascertained. In fact, it was more than dangerous to make any direct inquiry respecting any particular individual, as attention was thus drawn to his case; and informers were kept and paid all over the country (under the superintendence of the Aberdeen curates), to give information to the military, even of the most casual surmise. It was during a dark night, about a fortnight after Will M'Dougal's disappearance, that he reappeared at Lowtherslacks, and spent the whole evening in company with his beloved Mary and her kind entertainers. He had learned, he said, whilst in hiding at Crawfordjohn, that the soldiers had been called off to quell an apprehended insurrection at Glencairn, and had taken this opportunity of revisiting the spot which was so pleasantly associated in his mind. He had been observed, however, in crossing the hills, which had now escaped from a part of their covering, and information had been lodged with Grierson at Wanlockhead of the fact. The truth was, that the report of the absence of the dragoons from the hill country was a mere device to bring forth the poor nonconformist from his hiding-place, and to expose him the more readily to surprise. The fireside of Lowtherslacks was never more cheerfully encircled than on this memorable evening. The peats burned brightly, and the sooty rafters looked down from their smoky recesses, with a placid gleam, on the happy group. About twelve o'clock, it was judged safe to separate--Mary to return to her straw bed in the sheepfold, and William to make the best of his way back to his retreat at Crawfordjohn. Next morning, an hour before daybreak, and under the dim light of a waning moon, saw this solitary cottage surrounded with armed men on horseback. The inmates were immediately summoned from their beds, and a strict and unceremonious search for William M'Dougal commenced. The father, the son, the wife, the daughters, and the herd-lad, were all turned out, half naked, to the croft before the door. Never, perhaps, was there a more fearful and melancholy gathering. That moon, "Well known to hynd and matron old,"