Hard by Merchiston I was so fortunate as to observe a bulky gentleman in broadcloth and gaiters, stooping with his head almost between his knees, before a stone wall.

Seizing occasion by the forelock, I drew up as I came alongside and inquired what he had found to interest him.
He turned upon me a countenance not much less broad than his back.
'Why, sir,' he replied, 'I was even marvelling at my own indefeasible stupeedity: that I should walk this way every week of my life, weather permitting, and should never before have _notticed_ that stone,' touching it at the same time with a goodly oak staff.
I followed the indication.

The stone, which had been built sideways into the wall, offered traces of heraldic sculpture.

At once there came a wild idea into my mind: his appearance tallied with Flora's description of Mr.Robbie; a knowledge of heraldry would go far to clinch the proof; and what could be more desirable than to scrape an informal acquaintance with the man whom I must approach next day with my tale of the drovers, and whom I yet wished to please?
I stooped in turn.
'A chevron,' I said; 'on a chief three mullets?
Looks like Douglas, does it not ?' 'Yes, sir, it does; you are right,' said he: 'it _does_ look like Douglas; though, without the tinctures, and the whole thing being so battered and broken up, who shall venture an opinion?
But allow me to be more personal, sir.

In these degenerate days I am astonished you should display so much proficiency.' 'O, I was well grounded in my youth by an old gentleman, a friend of my family, and I may say my guardian,' said I; 'but I have forgotten it since.