“Aw’m thinking maybe it sall be a still, sir,” said Tavish innocently, as his master closed up.
“Maybe?” said The Mackhai sharply; “and I’m thinking you knew it was there, and have tasted the stuff.”
Tavish was silent, and they all plodded on toward the distant light, the dog’s track being straight for it naturally, for the only way up the little glen was by the burn.
“Ta licht’s gone,” muttered Tavish. “She’ll be thinking they’ve heert ta tog, and thrown watter upo’ it, and we shall be in trouble pefore we’ve done.”
“Hallo!” cried Kenneth; “the light’s out.”
The Mackhai called attention to the fact at the same moment.
“Keep close to me, Kenneth,” he said. “But no they would not dare,” he said to himself.
Tavish turned to his master.
“Shall she fecht?”
“There will be no need, my man. Get on. We shall find the boy has taken shelter there.”