Gray looked involuntarily behind him. The path stretched away lonely and desolate in the gathering darkness.
"What do you mean?" he asked; turning a pale face on M'Pherson. "I am quite alone."
"Weel, weel; there was a callant here no' sae lang syne, speering after ye. Aye, 'twas you he meant. A weel set-up, black-haired chap, he said, riding a roan horse wi' a white blaze in front."
Gray got off his horse and stood with his hand upon the bridle.
"I know no one about here. You must be mistaken," he said. But he said it falteringly, and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. The idea had flashed upon him that it might be Harding who was tracking his footsteps.
"What was he like?" he asked, as carelessly as he could.
"A soft-spoken callant wi' reddish hair—a puir thin sort o' body wi' a ferrety face. Sae ye didna luke for him? Weel, weel, maybe it's no a maitter for greeting that ye havena come across him. I wadna hae gi'en muckle for his honesty. But ye wull be wanting a meal, lad, and your bonnie horse too. Yon's the stable. A gude man is gude to his beastie, and ye'll no be wanting me to assist."
He bustled into the house without waiting for Gray to speak. He would have waited long, for Gray was too startled to speak. He began to think it must be Lumley who was following him. He slowly led his horse to the stable and made it comfortable, and then went back to the house. He stopped at the door to look back into the dusk.
The house was built in a green hollow carved out of the side of a steep hill. The ground rose steeply behind the place, rising up into a jagged ridge against the sky. In front there was a small flat meadow immediately before the house; then the ground fell almost precipitously and then rose again, with only a narrow ravine between. The opposite hills were higher than the hill under which the cottage was built, and frowned above it in heavy overhanging masses of rock. As Gray looked up he could only distinguish the vague dark outlines of the gloomy hills. A thousand men might have been hidden in the hollows and he would have been none the wiser. He listened intently, but there was no sound of human life. The wind had fallen, and the rush of the stream at the bottom of the ravine was the only sound that struck his ear.
M'Pherson had a comfortable meal prepared for him, late as it was. But Gray could not eat. He was too excited and uneasy. He tried to get a clear description of the man who had asked for him, but M'Pherson could tell him little more. The man had come to the door about four in the afternoon. He explained that he was expecting to come up with a friend along that road, and wanted to know how far he was ahead.