Butler, then, at the opening into the low street called the Cowgate, cast back a terrified glance, and, by the red and dusky light of the torches, he could discern a figure wavering and struggling as it hung suspended above the heads of the multitude, and could even observe men striking at it with their Lochaber-axes and partisans.

The sight was of a nature to double his horror, and to add wings to his flight.
The street down which the fugitive ran opens to one of the eastern ports or gates of the city.

Butler did not stop till he reached it, but found it still shut.

He waited nearly an hour, walking up and down in inexpressible perturbation of mind.

At length he ventured to call out, and rouse the attention of the terrified keepers of the gate, who now found themselves at liberty to resume their office without interruption.
Butler requested them to open the gate.