“I see ye are,” he said. “Did ye ha’ guid luck?”
“Oh, yes; you were right in saying my birds were at the Ben Cleuch. Now, if Aaron keeps his part of the contract——”
“Fear nawt, he wi’ keep it,” nodded MacLane. “Aaron kens Rob MacLane fu’ well, an’ he dare na disobey me. He will come.”
“I think he will,” agreed Bunol. “I looked back, and a small man waved something at me from the back of the house.”
“That were Aaron. I told him to follow ye, man, when he left, but to take guid care he were no’ observed. He will be here.”
“Well, I hope he comes soon, for this devil’s weather is uncomfortable.”
“Hoot man! Ye dinna ken what cauld weather is.”
“If that’s the case, I don’t want to know,” retorted Bunol. “This is quite enough for me.”
They sat on the log, talking in low tones, until a little, bent man, with a shawl wrapped about his shoulders, came gliding softly through the woods and stood before them.
“Here’s Aaron,” said MacLane. “Aaron, this is the man I would ha’ ye meet.”