“At night,” said James, getting up and putting his hands on the back of his chair. “And now, as soon as possible, we must go down to the harbour and look carefully at the position of everything.”
Ferrier stood up and stretched himself, as men so often will when they are turning over some unacknowledged intention.
James took up the roll of paper, glanced at it and threw it down again.
“I see it as though it had come by inspiration!” he cried. “I see that we have a blockhead to deal with, and when heaven sends such an advantage to His Highness, it is not you nor I, Ferrier, who will balk its design. You will not hang back?”
He looked at his friend as though he were ready to spring at him. But Ferrier went on with his own train of thought. He was a slower man than Logie, but if he lacked his fire, he lacked none of his resolution.
“You are right,” he said. “A man is a fool who leaves what he has captured on the farther side of the river, who thinks, having taken his enemy’s guns from a fort, that he can let it stand empty. He has done these follies because he knows that there are no troops in Montrose.”
“Ay, but there are troops in Brechin!” burst out James.
“There are troops in Brechin,” repeated Ferrier slowly, “and they must be got quietly into the town. I wish there were not eight miles of road between the two.”
“I have not forgotten that,” said James, “and to-night I mean to remain here till daylight and then return home by the side of the Basin. I will make my way along its shore and judge whether it be possible for you to bring your men by that route. If you can get them out of Brechin by the river-bank and so on along the side of the Esk, you will avoid the road and I will be waiting for you at the fort.”
Logie had come round the little table and stood by his friend, waiting for him to speak.