Widrington had word from London that he was on his way to the north by the west marches.

Had we found him we had found a prize, for he will play hell with Mar if he crosses the Highland line.

What say you, Lord Charles ?" The Highlander nodded.

"I would give my sporran filled ten times with gold to have my hand on Simon.

What devil's luck to be marching south with that old fox in our rear!" The boy pulled up a chair to the table.