"No," he cried, and made as though to tear the paper in two.
"You doited fool!" screamed Muckle John, rushing at his hands.
Rob with quick alarm leaped aside, and the big man tripped and floundered along the ground. What was he to do? But of a sudden he stood still. Why should he doubt Muckle John?
"I've taken your advice," he said, and showed the piece of paper in his hand.
"It's only what seems reasonable," replied Muckle John. "Now put it by, for it's neck or nothing for us, Rob."
"Have you a plan?" asked the boy, with his eyes on the white tents and his heart in a sad state of fright.
"A sort of a plan," he replied, and started at a run rewards the English.
Without a word Rob followed him. There was no time to question such a course, and already Macaulay was within a mile of them. But when he saw them heading for the tents in the glen below he paused, as well he might, for the sight of two Jacobite rebels scampering towards an English camp was sufficiently arresting.
The Highlanders with him, who had no wish for nearer acquaintance with red-coated soldiery, slackened their pace too, and, dropping below the sky-line, became invisible in the heather.
On ran Muckle John, and behind him Rob, until an English sentinel raised his musket and called to them to halt. The boy glanced anxiously at his companion's face. But he gathered nothing there. There was certainly no sign of fear.