The hour of midnight arrived, and a party of about thirty men, their faces blackened, and their persons enveloped, some in women’s cloaks, some in their own proper vestments turned inside out, marched down the lane which, passing the shopkeeper’s door, led to the beach. They were headed by a tall active-looking man, wrapped up in a seaman’s greatcoat. No one, in the uncertain gloom of midnight, could have identified his sooty features with those of the peaceable mechanic Sandison; but there was light enough to show the but-ends of two pistols stuck in the leathern belt which clasped his middle, and that there hung by his side an enormous basket-hilted broadsword. Stopping short at the domicile of the shopkeeper, he tapped gently against a window;--no one made answer. He tapped again. “Wha’s there?” exclaimed a shrill female voice from within. “Sawney, man, Sawney, wauken up!”--“Oh, Sawney’s frae hame!” rejoined the voice; “there came an express for him ance errand, just i’ the gloamin’, an’ he’s awa to the sheriffdom to see his sick mither.”--“Daidlin’ deceitfu’ body!” exclaimed Sandison; “wha could hae reckoned on this! But it were shame, lads, to turn back now that we hae gane sae far; an’ besides, if ill comes o’ the venture, he canna escape. An’ now, shaw yoursels to be men, an’ keep as free frae fear or anger as if ye were in the parish kirk. Launch down the yawls ane by ane, and dinna let their keels skreigh alang the stanes; an’ be sure an’ put in the spile plugs, that we mayna swamp by the way. Let ilk rower muffle his oar wi’ his neckcloth, just i’ the clamp; an’, for gudesake, skaith nane o’ the crew. Willie, dinna forget the nails an’ the hammer; Bernard, man, bring up the rear.” The cool resolution of the leader seemed imparted to his followers; and, in a few minutes after, they were portioned into three boats, which, with celerity and in silence, glided towards the meal sloop.