A few minutes later they saw him crossing the courtyard, a lamp swinging in his hand, limping through a shortness of his right leg, and frowning at them as he peered through the shattered iron gates.
"Come nearer," he rasped, "you boy there with the borrowed claes."
Rob took a step towards him so that the light streamed down upon his features.
"Humph!" grunted Murdoch, cocking his eyes at the gipsy, "it is queer company ye're taken up with, my man. Do ye ken who that is with his innocent face and braw blue eyes? That's the lad of Muckle John."
"Whist!" warned Gloom, "the very rocks have ears."
At that moment a little girl came running over the courtyard.
"What did ye say of Muckle John?" she asked.
"Gang to your bed, Ethlenn," screamed the old man. "Janet, away with the bairn."
A woman ran out into the twilight. There was a noise of sudden crying and a door banged.
"Can we bide the night here?" asked the gipsy, but with poor enough heart in it.