So numbed and exhausted was the fugitive that it took him a few seconds to realise that he was discovered. But by whom? Not by soldiers, certainly; nor could that be the dog from the change-house. He dragged himself into a sitting posture, got his back against the boulder, pulled the little black knife, his only resource, from his stocking, and waited.
Feet were coming down the steep bank, and soon two men could be seen plunging through the birch and alder, shouting to each other in an unfamiliar accent; in front of them plunged and capered the sheepdog, with its tail held high, and Ewen heard a loud hearty voice saying, “Clivver lass—aye, good bitch th’art indeed! See-ye, yon’s rebel, Jan!” He reflected, “I can kill the dog, but what good would that do me? Moreover I have no wish to.” And as the intelligent creature came bounding right up to him, wagging a friendly tail, and apparently proud of its accomplishment in having found him, he held out his left hand in invitation. The dog sniffed once, and then licked it.
“See thon!” cried the former voice. “Dang it, see Lassie so freendly and all!”
“Yet you had best not come too near!” called Ewen threateningly. “I am armed!” He raised his right hand.
The larger of the men, pushing through an alder bush, instantly lifted a stout cudgel. “If thou harmst t’ bitch—— Coom here, Lassie!”
“No, I will not harm her,” said Ewen, fending off the dog’s demonstrations with his other arm. “But call her off; I owe her no gratitude.”
“For foindin’ thee, thou meanst,” supplied Lassie’s owner. “Aye, thou’st the fellow that gie t’ sogers the slip yesterday; we heerd all aboot thee oop at t’ little hoose yonder. Eh, but thou’rt a reet smart lad!” There was genuine admiration in his tone. “’Twere smart ti hide thee here, so near an’ all, ’stead o’ gooin’ ower t’ brig—eh, Jan?”
“Main smart,” agreed the smaller man. “Too smart fur th’ redcoats, Ah lay!”
The smart lad, very grim in the face, and rather grey to boot, sat there against his boulder with the sgian clutched to his breast, point outwards, and eyed the two men with a desperate attention, as they stood a little way higher up amid the tangle of bushes, stones and protruding tree-roots, and looked at him. They had the appearance of well-to-do farmers, particularly the larger, who was a tremendously burly and powerful man with a good-tempered but masterful expression. The smaller was of a more weazened type, and older.
“See-thee, yoong man,” said the burly stranger suddenly, “’tis no manner o’ use ti deny that thou’rt one of these danged Highland rebels, seein’ we’s heerd all the tale oop yonder.”