blue eye and a fiery red head. He was maybe ten years
older than me, and though he was finely dressed in town clothes, there
was about his whole appearance a smack of the sea. He came forward,
and, in a very Highland voice, asked my name.

"Why should I tell you?" I said, a little nettled.

"Just that I might carry it in my head. I have seen some pretty
shooting in my day, but none like yours, young one. What's your trade
that ye've learned the pistol game so cleverly?"

Now I was flushed with pride, and in no mood for a stranger's
patronage. So I told him roundly that it was none of his business, and
pushed by him to Parlane's back-door. But my brusqueness gave no
offence to this odd being. He only laughed and cried after me that, if
my manners were the equal of my marksmanship, I would be the best lad
he had seen since his home-coming.

I had dinner with my uncle in the Candleriggs, and sat with him late
afterwards casting up accounts, so it was not till nine o'clock that I
set out on my way to my lodgings. These were in the Saltmarket, close
on the river front, and to reach them I went by the short road through
the Friar's Vennel. It was an ill-reputed quarter of the town, and not
long before had been noted as a haunt of coiners; but I had gone
through it often, and met with no hindrance.

In the vennel stood a tall dark bit of masonry called Gilmour's
Lordship, which was pierced by long closes from which twisting
stairways led to the upper landings. I was noting its gloomy aspect
under the dim February moon, when a man came towards me and turned into
one of the closes. He swung along with a free, careless gait that
marked him as no townsman, and ere he plunged into the darkness I had a
glimpse of fiery hair. It was the stranger who had accosted me in
Parlane's alley, and he was either drunk or in wild spirits, for he was
singing:--

"We're a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't,
We're a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't.
The minister kissed the fiddler's wife,
And he couldna preach for thinkin' o't."

The ribald chorus echoed from the close mouth.

Then I saw that he was followed by three others, bent, slinking
fellows, who slipped across the patches of moonlight, and eagerly
scanned the empty vennel. They could not see me, for I was in shadow,
and presently they too entered the close.

The thing looked ugly, and, while I had no love for the red-haired man,
I did not wish to see murder or robbery com