"It was a dwam, but I think it has passed."
He still rubbed his eyes, and peered about him, like a big collie dog that has lost its master.
"Who is it that speirs?" he said. "I ken the voice, but I havena heard it this long time."
"One who is well acquaint with Borrowstoneness and the links of Forth," said I.
I spoke in the accent of his own country-side, and it must have woke some dim chord in his memory, I made haste to strike while the iron was hot.
"There was a woman at Cramond…" I began.
He got to his feet and looked me in the face. "Ay, there was," he said, with an odd note in his voice. "What about her?" I could see that his hand was shaking.
"I think her name was Alison Steel."
"What ken ye of Alison Steel?" he asked fiercely. "Quick, man, what word have ye frae Alison?"
"You sent me with a letter to her. D'you not mind your last days in
Edinburgh, before they shipped you to the Plantations?"