In broken sentences, and between his fits of giddiness, Archie explained the situation in the harbour, and the beggar listened, his bristly brows knit, his bonnet thrust back on his bald head; and his own best course of action grew clear to him. Montrose would soon be full of rebel soldiers, and though these might be generous audiences when merry with wine and loose upon the streets, their presence would make him no safer from Lord Balnillo. Wattie knew that the judge's loyalty was beginning to be suspected, and that he might well have friends among the Prince's officers, whose arrival might attract him to the town. And to serve Archie would be a good recommendation for himself with his employers, to say nothing of any private gratitude that the young man might feel.
"Bide you whaur ye are!" he exclaimed, rousing his dogs. "Lad, a'll hae to ca' ye oot o' this, an' dod! we'll need a' our time!"
Not far from them a spring was trickling from the fields, dropping in a spurt through the damp mosses between the unpointed stones of the dyke. The obedient dogs drew their master close to it, and he filled a battered pannikin that he took from among his small collection of necessities in the bottom of the cart. He returned with the water, and when Archie had bathed his head in its icy coldness, he drew a whisky-bottle from its snug lair under the bagpipes, and forced him to drink. It was half full, for the friendly publican had replenished his store before they parted on the foregoing night. As the liquid warmed his stomach, Archie raised his head slowly.
"I believe I can walk now," he said at last.
"Ye'll need to try," observed Wattie dryly. "Ye'll no can ride wi' me. Come awa', Maister Flemington. Will a gi' ye a skelloch o' the pipes to help ye alang?"
"In God's name, no!" cried Archie, whose head was splitting.
He struggled on to his feet. The whisky was beginning to overcome the giddiness, and he knew that every minute spent on the highroad was a risk.
The beggar was determined to go to Aberbrothock with Archie; he did not consider him in a fit state to be left alone, and he counselled him to leave the road at once, and to cut diagonally across the high ground, whilst he himself, debarred by his wheels from going across country, drove back to the cross roads, and took the one to the coast. By doing this the pair would meet, Flemington having taken one side of the triangle, while Wattie had traversed the other two. They were to await each other at a spot indicated by the latter, where a bit of moor encroached on the way.