THE RED-HEADED MAN It was about half-past three when I came forth on the Lang Dykes.

Dean was where I wanted to go.

Since Catriona dwelled there, and the Glengyle Macgregors appeared almost certainly to be employed against me, it was just one of the few places I should have kept away from; and being a very young man, and beginning to be very much in love, I turned my face in that direction without pause.

As a salve to my conscience and common sense, however, I took a measure of precaution.

Coming over the crown of a bit of a rise in the road, I clapped down suddenly among the barley and lay waiting.