Gibbie went hopping upon one foot to the hole in the wall where Janet kept the only knife she had.

It was not there.

He glanced round, but could not see it.

There was no time to lose.

Robert's returning steps might be heard any moment, and poor Angus might be hanged--only for shooting Gibbie! He hopped up to him and examined the knots that tied his hands: they were drawn so tight--in great measure by his own struggles--and so difficult to reach from their position, that he saw it would take him a long time to undo them.