Fiction > Book editions > New York, 1893 - David Balfour

DAVID BALFOUR 149
"Betwixt and between," said I.
" No kind of a linrry about the man ? " he asked.
" Never a sign of it," said I.
" Nlim ! " said Alan, " it looks queer. We saw
nothing of them this morning on the Whins ; he's
passed us by, he doesnae seem to be looking, and yet
here he is on our road ! Dod, Davie, I begin to take
a notion. I think it's no you they're seeking, I think
it's me ; and I think they ken fine where they're
gaun."
" They ken ? " I asked.
" I think Andie Scougal's sold me — him or his mate
wha kent some part of the affair — or else Chairlie's
clerk callant, which would be a pity too," says Alan ;
"and if you askit me for just my inward private con-
viction, I think there'll be heads cracked on Gillane
sands."
"Alan," I cried, "if you're at all right there'll be
folk there and to spare. It'll be small service to crack
heads."
"It would aye be a satisfaction though," says Alan.
" But bide a bit, bide a bit ; I'm thinking — and thanks
to this bonny westland wind, I believe I've still a
chance of it. It's this way, Davie. I'm no trysted
with this man Scougal till the gloaming comes. But,"
says he, " if I can get a hit of a wind out of the west
I'll le there long or that/' he says, "and lie-to for ye
hehind the Isle of Fidra. Now if your gentry kens the