“Henderson thought it would be safer here than at my house. I’m being watched. We conceived it would be less conspicuous if the dozen of us gathered here as if by accident.”
“I wish I were as sure of your messenger as I am of the innkeeper,” protested Henderson, his growing dislike of Armstrong not to be concealed. “The innkeeper is a pious man who——”
“So was Judas; and he was one of the Apostles,” interrupted Armstrong flippantly, unheeding the other’s anger.
“He is an enemy of your friends, the cattle-thieves,” insisted Henderson.
“Is he? In that case you’ll know more about him than I do, and I suppose it is policy for you to stand up for him. But, Traquair, I wonder at you! Did you search the house before you sat down here?”
“No.”
“I went round the steading, and there was no guard at the back.”
“Angus is keeping watch, and can see up and down the road.”
“The road is the last place I would set foot on if I were a spy. You have been ranting in here at a great rate. Before I came to you I could hear every word that was said. One would think it was a Presbyterian convening, agreeing on the Scriptures. I knew Henderson’s opinion of me before I opened the door.”
“You look like an eavesdropper,” retorted the man referred to, “and that you have a libellous ungoverned tongue is proven by every word you utter.”