I am free to go?"

"Through the door, down the left stairway, and you will be in the
street," said the gentleman.

I made some sort of bow and moved to the door.

"Farewell, Mr. Whiggamore," the girl cried, "Keep a cheerful
countenance, or they'll think you a Sweet-Singer. Your breeches will
mend, man."

And with her laughter most unpleasantly in my ears I made my way into
the Canongate, and so to my lodgings at Mrs. Macvittie's.

* * * * *

Three weeks later I heard that Muckle John was destined for the
Plantations in a ship of Mr. Barclay of Urie's, which traded to New
Jersey. I had a fancy to see him before he went, and after much trouble
I was suffered to visit him. His gaoler told me he had been mighty wild
during his examination before the Council, and had had frequent bouts
of madness since, but for the moment he was peaceable. I found him in a
little cell by himself, outside the common room of the gaol. He was
sitting in an attitude of great dejection, and when I entered could
scarcely recall me to his memory. I remember thinking that, what with
his high cheek-bones, and lank black hair, and brooding eyes, and great
muscular frame, Scotland could scarcely have furnished a wilder figure
for the admiration of the Carolinas, or wherever he went to. I did not
envy his future master.