"Aye! yon's John Millar awa'. I'm feared things looks bad," muttered
Gibson to his companion as they approached the door of the farm-house.
"You keep ahint in the onstead, John Telfer, and I'll get Murdison to
come oot. We'll never can tell him afore his wife."
"Wulliam Gibson! Hoo are ye? Man, this is a sicht for sair een," cried
Murdison heartily to his visitor. "Come awa' in ben, and hae a glass."
A greeting so friendly brought a lump into Gibson's throat that he found
it hard to swallow.
"Na, I canna come in," he answered in a low voice; "John Telfer's ahint
the onstead, wantin' to speak to ye."
"John Telfer! what can _he_ want wi' me?" cried Murdison, going grey in
the face. "Oh, aye! In one minute," he said, hastily stepping back into
the kitchen and whispering a few words to his wife. Gibson did not hear
the words, but his heart sank like lead as he noticed Mrs. Murdison
fling herself into a chair, bury her face in her hands, and wail, "Oh
God! my heart will break."
"Alexander Murdison, I hae a warrant here, and I maun hae a bit look at
a wheen o' your sheep," said the officer of the law when Murdison came
with Gibson into the Steading.
Quite enough was soon seen to make it necessary for Murdison and Millar,
his shepherd, to be taken to Peebles, where bail was refused.
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