hushed me down quick, and said, nastily, that if I was
afraid I could take her hand or go home to nursie.

Afraid! Me afraid! Likely! Would I have been there if I had been
afraid? But it was Davie, right enough, and we were both relieved. He
had a good backful of fish, regular preserved water beauties that never
could have been got except in the Duke's pools on the Bram Burn. They
were all done up in fern leaves, as nice as ninepence, and as freckly
as Fred Allen's nose. But Davie had stopped by the way after catching
them. A flask and the remains of a loaf told why.

"Davie," said Elsie, shaking him; "wake up, man, we have something to
ask you!"

Davie opened his eyes. He was dazed, not so much at the bright sun and
the heather--he was used to that--but at seeing us. And he looked all
round about him to take his bearings.

"What are you doing so far from home?" he asked, sitting up on his
elbow. "The dominie will thrash you!"

"Davie," said Elsie, "did you see Harry Foster this morning?"

Davie laughed with a funny chuckle he had, but which sounded awful just
then. "Aye," he said, "I was in his cart, lassie. He gied me a lift
to kirk or market--I will not be telling you which!"

"Davie," I said, "tell us. This is no joke. Harry Foster is very
likely murdered, and all the Queen's mail bags stolen. A lot of money,
too, they were sending from the bank in East Dene to the new branch in
Bewick."

I knew that because I had heard my father say so.

Never did I see a man so struck as Davie. His face changed. The smirk
went out of it and it got gray, with the blue watery eyes sticking out
like gooseberries.

"Then if I cannot prove myself innocent," he gasped, "they will hang
me!"

"But you are innocent?" I asked eagerly.

"Ow, aye, I'm innocent enough," he said, "but can I prove it? That's
the question. There's a deal of folk, gameys and landlords, that has a
pick at poor Davie for the odd snare he sets and the big trout he
catches. They'll nail this on him. And I gave Harry two--three flies
newly busked," he added hoarsely, "did you hear?..."

"Yes," said I, "I saw them. They were stuck in the leather apron."

Davie the poacher raised his hand in a discouraged way to his throat,
and caressed it, feeling it all over like a doctor.

"I'm feared ye are no worth thrippens!" he said.

CHAPTER III

THE BAILIFF OF DEEP MOAT GRANGE

Elsie and I cheered him. We would do what we coul