"But," he continued, "I must be budging. For the air of the Glasgow tolbooth is no that over salutary to a Highland constitution."
"Ohon," said the Bailie, "that I should be art and part in an escape from justice—it will be a disgrace to me all the days of my life! Aweel, we have all our backslidings to answer for. Stanchells, open the door!"
The head jailor stared at the two visitors who had gotten into Mr. Owen's cell without his leave, but he was reassured by the Bailie's careless "Friends of mine, Stanchells, friends of mine!"
The party descended to the lower vestibule, and there called more than once for Dougal, but without effect.
Whereupon Campbell observed, with a quiet smile, that "if Dougal was the lad he kenned him, he would scarce wait to be thanked for his share of that night's work, but would now be full trot for the pass of Ballamaha—"
"And am I myself," cried the angry Bailie, "to be locked up in the tolbooth all night? Send for fore-hammers, sledge-hammers, pincers! Send for Deacon Yettlin, the smith. And as for that Hieland blackguard, he shall hang as high as Haman—"
"When ye catch him," said Campbell, gravely, "but wait, surely the jail door is not locked!"
And so it turned out.
"He has some glimmerings of sense, that Dougal creature," added the Highlander; "he kenned that an open door might have served me at a pinch!"
So saying he sprang into the darkness, and soon the street resounded to low signal whistles, uttered and instantly replied to.