"What will they do wi' me, think ye?" he asked. "This is the second time I've fallen into the hands o' the Amalekites, and it's no likely they'll let me off sae lightly."
"What will they do with us all?" said I. "The Plantations maybe, or the Bass! It's a bonny creel you've landed me in, for I'm as innocent as a newborn babe."
The notion of the Plantations seemed to comfort him. "I've been there afore, once in the brig John Rolfe o' Greenock, and once in the _Luckpenny _o' Leith. It's a het land but a bonny, and full o' all manner o' fruits. You can see tobacco growin' like aits, and mair big trees in one plantin' than in all the shire o' Lothian. Besides—"
But I got no more of Muckle John's travels, for the door opened on that instant, and the gaoler appeared. He looked at our heads, then singled me out, and cried on me to follow. "Come on, you," he said. "Ye're wantit in the captain's room."
I followed in bewilderment; for I knew something of the law's delays, and I could not believe that my hour of trial had come already. The man took me down the turret stairs and through a long passage to a door where stood two halberdiers. Through this he thrust me, and I found myself in a handsome panelled apartment with the city arms carved above the chimney. A window stood open, and I breathed the sweet, fresh air with delight. But I caught a reflection of myself in the polished steel of the fireplace, and my spirits fell, for a more woebegone ruffian my eyes had never seen. I was as dirty as a collier, my coat was half off my back from my handling on the moor, and there were long rents at the knees of my breeches.
Another door opened, and two persons entered. One was a dapper little man with a great wig, very handsomely dressed in a plum-coloured silken coat, with a snowy cravat at his neck. At the sight of the other my face crimsoned, for it was the girl who had sung Montrose's song in the rain.
The little gentleman looked at me severely, and then turned to his companion. "Is this the fellow, Elspeth?" he inquired. "He looks a sorry rascal."
The minx pretended to examine me carefully. Her colour was high with the fresh morning, and she kept tapping her boot with her whip handle.
"Why, yes, Uncle Gregory," she said, "It is the very man, though none the better for your night's attentions."
"And you say he had no part in Gib's company, but interfered on your behalf when the madman threatened you?"