Fadyen
rode the servant, pointing towards the trees, and saying: "This is our
way. Come ye wi' me."

There were few roads--such as they were--in the south of Scotland with
which M'Fadyen's business as a drover had not made him familiar, and
naturally he refused now to leave a track which he knew to be the right
one. Whereupon the servant up with his "long-gun" and struck him heavily
over the head with the butt; and as M'Fadyen strove to defend himself
and to retaliate, up rode the master, clapped a pistol to his breast,
and forced him to go with them behind the clump of trees. The last
M'Fadyen saw of his pleasant escort was the two knaves cantering over
the heath, bearing with them his cloak-bag containing his L150.

A great fuss was made over this robbery, and the Privy Council took the
matter up. The chief robber was undoubtedly an officer, said M'Fadyen,
and besides the large wart over his eye, there were other marks which
made him noticeable--for example, "the little finger of his left hand
bowed towards his loof." Notwithstanding these tell-tale marks, neither
robber was ever found; M'Fadyen and his hard-earned L150 had parted
company for ever. And though the Privy Council went so far as to
"recommend Sir James Leslie, commander-in-chief for the time being of
their Majesties' forces within this kingdom, to cause make trial if
there be any such person, either officer or soldier, amongst their
Majesties' forces, as the persons described," no one was ever brought
to book, either amongst the troops in Scotland, or amongst "the officers
which are come over from Flanders to levy recruits."

Not so fortunate as this scarlet-coated gentleman was Mr. Hudson,
_alias_ Hazlitt, who in 1770 stopped a post-chaise on Gateshead Fell,
near Newcastle, and robbed the occupant, a lady who was returning to
Newcastle from Durham. A poor-spirited creature was this Hudson, a
little London clerk gone wrong, and he trembled so excessively when
robbing the lady that she plucked up spirit, and, protesting that half a
guinea was all she had, got off with the loss of that modest sum, not
even having her watch taken. Despite his pistol, one cannot but feel
that of the two the lady was the better man, and that, had it occurred
to her, she might very readily have bundled the highwayman neck and crop
into her chaise, and handed him over to the authorities.

His career, however, was almost as brief as if she had done so. That
same evening he ro