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"What's the news?" he demanded. Dougal glanced at Alexis and seemed to approve his looks. "Napoleon has just reported that three boatloads, making either twenty-three or twenty-four men they were gey ill to count has landed at Garplefit and is makin' their way to the auld Tower. The tinklers warned Dobson and soon it'll be a' bye wi' Heritage."

Awa' you up to the Hoose and tell Dobson, and me and Sim and Hob will meet the boats at the Garplefit." The other cast a glance towards Dickson. "What about him?" he asked. The two scrutinized their prisoner from a distance of a few paces. Dickson, well aware of his peril, held himself as stiff as if every bond had been in place.

They've instructions to watch for the polis, and keep an eye on the Garplefit. It's a mortal long front to hold, but there's no other way. I must be in the hoose mysel'. Thomas Yownie's headquarters is the auld wife's hen-hoose." At that moment in a pause of the gale came the far-borne echo of a shot. "Pistol," said Alexis. "Heritage," said Dougal. "Trade will be gettin' brisk with him.

And puir man, ye've been sair mishandled. This is the awfu'est Sabbath day that ever you and me pit in. I hope it'll be forgiven us.... Whaur's the young leddy?" "Dougal was saying she was in the House with Sir Archibald and the men from the Mains." "Wae's me!" Mrs. Morran keened. "And what kind o' place is yon for her? Thae laddies tell me there's boatfu's o' scoondrels landit at the Garplefit.