'No,' said I, going nearer to him and speaking under my breath, 'but it may help us to his murderer.'
'Eh, what?' said the master, sitting up as gleg as a cat at a mousehole, '"His murderer," said ye? Are not Thomas of Drummurchie and Mure of Cloncaird his declared murderers?'
'Ay,' said I, 'exactly—his "declared" murderers.'
'Speak either less or mair—let us hae done wi' parables!' quoth the Dominie.
'What think ye,' said I, 'of the Grey Man that stood behind and waved them on, like a pilot guiding a ship into a port? I mean the man that threw the dagger into the Red House. I mean the man that let loose the scum of the Tolbooth on us of Cassillis the day of "Clear the Causeway."'
'And who might he be?' said the Dominie, breaking in upon me, for some of these things he was not acquainted with.
'First bring in the laddie,' said I.
So Dominie Mure brought Dalrymple in to a private place, and having dismissed the school, we proceeded faithfully to examine him. I asked him to tell me all that had befallen that fateful day, from the time I had seen him run up the Kirk Vennel, to the time when he came to me again upon the green at my play, and making a poor hand of it with another man's clubs.
The boy began his tale well enough, like one that says a well-learned lesson; but in the very midst, when, somewhat severely, I bade him say over again what he had already said, he broke out into a passion of weeping and begging us to have mercy upon him—for that he was but a laddie and had been commanded upon pain of his death to tell the tale which he had told us at the first.
So we bade him to speak freely, to tell no lie anymore and all would yet be well. So he told us how he had gone fleet-foot to Auchendrayne and had there found John Mure, the master thereof, sitting in the great chamber with Walter of Cloncaird. He described how that he had given the letter into the Laird's hands, even as he had been bidden. When Mure had read it, he handed it over to Cloncaird. But he, swearing that he was not gleg at the parson-work, bade Auchendrayne to read it aloud for him. Which, when he did, they looked long and strangely at one another. And at last John Mure said, 'I should not wonder, Cloncaird, but something might come out of this.'