Just then hurried steps were heard on the stair, and next moment a loud knocking shook the door.
“Wha’s that?” exclaimed Mrs Black, rising.
“It’s me, mither. Open; quick!”
Next moment Andrew sprang in and looked hastily round.
“Am I the first, mither?”
Before the poor woman could recover from her joy and amazement sufficiently to reply, another step was heard on the stair.
“That’s ane o’ them,” said Black, turning and holding the door, so as to be ready for friend or foe. He was right. Mrs Wallace uttered a little scream of joy as her son leaped into the room.
“Whaur’s Quentin?” asked Black.
The question was scarcely put when the shepherd himself bounded up the stair.
“They’ve gotten sight o’ me, I fear,” he said. “Have ye a garret, wummin—onywhere to hide?”