help him, and to be friends with him before he went away,
but he didna give me the opportunity. I respected his father and would
gladly have helped him for his sake. If you should hear word of him, ye
might let me know."

"I might possibly hear of him," said John; "but it is hardly likely."

He was glad to get away from the man. If by any chance he had uttered
the name of Allison, John could not have answered for himself. But he
was not done with him yet. Late at night Brownrig came again to the inn
and asked for him. John had gone to his room, but he came down when the
message was brought to him. The man had been drinking, but he could
still "take care of himself," or he thought so. He made some pretence
of having something more to say about business, but he forgot it in a
little, and went off to other matters, speaking with angry vehemence
about men and things of which John knew nothing. It was a painful sight
to see, and when two or three men came into the room John rose and
wished him good-night. Brownrig protested violently against his
"desertion," as he called it, but John was firm in his refusal to stay.

He was afraid, not of Brownrig, but of himself. He was growing wild at
the thought that this man should have any hold over Allison Bain--that
the time might come when, with the help of the law, he might have her in
his power. But he restrained himself, and was outwardly calm to the
last.

"Ye're wise to go your ways," said the innkeeper, as John went into the
open air. "Yon man's no easy to do wi', when he gets past a certain
point. He'll give these two lads all the story of his wrongs, as he
calls it, before he's done. He's like a madman, drinking himself to
death."

John would not trust himself to speak, but he stood still and listened
while the man went on to tell of Brownrig's marriage and all that
followed it, and of the madness that seemed to have come upon the
disappointed man.

"She has never been heard of since, at least he has never heard of her;
and it's my belief he would never hear of her, though half the parish
kenned her hiding-place. It is likely that she's safe in America by
this time. That is what he seems to think himself. I shouldna wonder
if he were to set out there in search of her some day."

John listened in silence, catching every now and then the sound of
Brownrig's angry voice, growing louder and angrier as time went on.

It was of all this that John was thi