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Morran's hen-house, which was Thomas Yownie's POSTE DE COMMANDEMENT. The rain had come on again, and, though in other weather there would have been a slow twilight, already the shadow of night had the world in its grip. The sea even from the high ground was invisible, and all to westward and windward was a ragged screen of dark cloud. It was foul weather for foul deeds.
Peter Paterson gave him a wee shove and he fell down the two-three steps into the cellar, and we turned the key on him. Yon cellar has a grand door and no windies." "And Dobson and Leon are at the verandah door? With a light?" "Thomas Yownie's on duty there. Ye can trust him. Ye'll no fickle Thomas Yownie."
That satisfied them, and they're both away back to their jobs. Thomas Yownie's the fell yin. Ye'll no fickle Thomas Yownie." Dougal extricated from his pouch the fag of a cigarette, lit it, and puffed meditatively. "I did a reckonissince mysel' this morning. I was up at the Hoose afore it was light, and tried the door o' the coal-hole.
You must get him into the House, for he's the best right to be beside the lady... Jaikie would tell you that I've been sore mishandled the day, and am no' very fit for a battle. But Mr. Nicholson's a business man and he'll do as well. You're keeping the Die-Hards outside, I hope?" "Ay. Thomas Yownie's in charge, and Jaikie will be in and out with orders.
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.
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