No, he had gone too far to retreat.
He fed the villain, gave him a suit of his own clothes, and L50, and saw him put off to sea.

Sandy promised to keep well out in the bay, until some vessel going North to Zetland or Iceland, or some Dutch skipper bound for Amsterdam, took him up.

All the next day Ragon was in misery, but nightfall came and he had heard nothing of Sandy, though several craft had come into port.

If another day got over he would feel safe; but he told himself that he was in a gradually narrowing circle, and that the sooner he leaped outside of it the better.
When he reached home the old couple who hung about the place, and who had learned to see nothing and to hear nothing, came to him and voluntarily offered a remark.
"Queer folk an' strange folk have been here, an' ta'en awa some claes out o' the cellar." Ragon asked no questions.

He knew what clothes they were--that suit of John Sabay's in which Sandy Beg had killed Peter Fae, and the rags which Sandy had a few hours before exchanged for one of his own sailing-suits.