"Hallo! lass," the sergeant of the guard, who was standing there, said.

"You are a pretty figure with your torn clothes! Why, what has happened to you ?" "If you please, sir," Cluny said timidly, "I was selling my eggs to the governor's cook, and he kept me waiting, and I did not know that it was so late, and when I got to the gates they were shut, and I had nowhere to go; and then, please sir, as I was wandering about a rough soldier seized me and wanted to kiss me, and of course I would not let him, and in the struggle he tore my clothes dreadfully; and some burghers, who heard me scream, came up and the man left me, and one of the burghers let me sleep in his kitchen, and I don't know what mother will say to my clothes;" and Cluny lifted the hem of his petticoat to his eyes.
"It is a shame, lass," the sergeant said good temperedly; "an I had been there I would have broke the fellow's sconce for him; but another time, lass, you should not overstay the hour; it is not good for young girls to be roaming at night in a town full of soldiers.
There, I hope your mother won't beat you, for, after all, it was the fault of the governor's cook rather than yours." Cluny pursued his way with a quiet and depressed mien until he was fairly out of sight of the gates.

Then he lifted his petticoats to a height which would have shocked his sister Janet, to give free play to his limbs, and at the top of his speed dashed down the road toward Lanark.

He found his two companions waiting at the appointed spot, but he did not pause a moment.
"Are you mad, Cluny ?" they shouted.
And indeed the wild figure, with its tucked up garments, tearing at full speed along the road, would have been deemed that of a mad girl by any who had met it.
"Come on!" he shouted.

"Come on, it is for life or death!" and without further word he kept on at full speed.