“You knew nothing of what was waiting for us at the top of Huntly Hill?”
“Nothing, as I live,” said Archie.
“The beggar betrayed you,” said Callandar. “When you were gone he told me that you were in Logie’s pay—that you would warn him. He was right, Flemington.”
“I am not in Logie’s pay—I never was,” broke in Archie.
“I did not know what to think,” the soldier went on; “but I took him up Huntly Hill with me, and when we had unsaddled, and the men were lying under the trees, I sent the corporal to Brechin with the information. I went with him to the edge of the wood, and when I came back there was not a man left alive. Logie and Ferrier were there with a horde of their rebels. They had come to rescue the prisoner, and he was loose.”
“Then he was Ferrier’s cousin!” exclaimed Flemington. “We were right.”
“One of my men escaped,” continued Callandar, “or I suppose so, for he was gone. The beggar and the other two were killed, and the horses had stampeded.”
“So Wattie is dead,” mused Flemington. “Gad, what a voice has gone with him!”
“They did not see me, but I watched them; I saw him—Logie—he went off quickly, and he took one of the beggar’s dogs with him, snarling and struggling, with his head smothered in his coat. Then I went down the hill, meaning to make for Brechin, and I saw you coming back. I knew what you were about, thanks to that beggar.”