He paused, and the look of fear twisted his features once again.
"It would look better to bide here," said he, in a mutter to himself, and so, with a pinch of snuff, he turned towards the door again. But a moment later he was back, and this time his limbs fairly shook with fear.
"No, no!" he gasped, one gout swollen hand upon his breast. "I canna wait here like an auld maimed dog. There are places I can bide until arrangements can be made. Quick, boy—saddle a horse and let us go."
"The horses are all gone, my lord," said Rob.
"All gone? So that is how they treat me. Then we must walk until we find one. Surely my people will help their chief."
"There is a pony, your lordship," cried Rob, and going to the stable he led out the powerful little beast.
Shuffling back to the house, Lovat crept up the creaking stairway and returned some minutes later with his strong box.
"Fasten it behind the saddle, Rob," he said, "or better still can I trust ye to carry it?"
He stood for a moment glooming at the ground and then begun to hunt amongst his pockets for a piece of paper which, when he had found it, he read most carefully and tittered in a strange falsetto manner to himself.
Then taking a silver whistle from his waistcoat he blew it three times and took to breathing upon his frozen fingers.