She gave them to Heritage, who held them appraisingly in his hand
and then passed them on to Dickson.

"I do not ask about their contents. We take them from you as they
are, and, please God, when the moment comes they will be returned to
you as you gave them. You trust us, Mademoiselle?"

"I trust you, for you are a soldier. Oh, and I thank you from my
heart, my friends." She held out a hand to each, which caused
Heritage to grow suddenly very red.

"I will remain in the neighbourhood to await developments," he said.
"We had better leave you now. Dougal, lead on."

Before going, he took the girl's hand again, and with a sudden
movement bent and kissed it. Dickson shook it heartily. "Cheer up,
Mem," he observed. "There's a better time coming." His last
recollection of her eyes was of a soft mistiness not far from tears.
His pouch and pipe had strange company jostling them in his pocket
as he followed the others down the ladder into the night.

Dougal insisted that they must return by the road of the morning.
"We daren't go by the Laver, for that would bring us by the
public-house. If the worst comes to the worst, and we fall in wi'
any of the deevils, they must think ye've changed your mind and come
back from Auchenlochan."

The night smelt fresh and moist as if a break in the weather
were imminent. As they scrambled along the Garple Dean a pinprick
of light below showed where the tinklers were busy by their fire.