from
what had already taken place.

It was a crisp, frosty night, with a deep blue velvet dome of
cloudless sky overhead, with star-diamonds that flashed and twinkled
with ever varying colours, until a crescent moon, shaped like the whip
of an orange, rose up over the hills to the east, cold, luminous and
silvery, and paled the lesser twinkling lights into insignificance and
ultimate obscurity.

As Phil topped the last hill overlooking Vernock, his head was high
and so were his spirits, for he had made up his mind that come what
might he would pursue his way calmly and earnestly to the end as he
thought fit, and, if Eileen Pederstone cared to betray his secret, he
would meet that difficulty as he had met others.

He looked down into the town before him, but its usual fairy-like
aspect was absent, for the town fathers were beginning to get frugal
and did not use their electricity on the main streets when the moon
was up or when the snow was lying. Only the smaller lights of the
dwelling houses gave out any signs of life.

He dropped gradually down, then across an orchard and on to the main
highway leading to Vernock.

As he was passing the town jail, his attention was attracted by an
unusual commotion there. Voices were gabbling noisily and quite a
crowd was gathered at the main entrance. He hurried over. The first
man he ran against was Langford, who accosted Phil in a rush of Doric,
which at once informed him that something serious must be wrong.

"Where ha'e ye been, man? I've been pryin' for ye everywhere."

"Walking!" answered Phil shortly. "What's the matter?"

"Matter! De'il tak' it,--I thocht the whole toon kent by this time. I
thocht maybe ye were efter them."

"Well, I'll be hanged!" exclaimed Phil as the truth dawned on him.

"Ay,--ye may weel say it! What did I tell ye? Didna I say they'd never
face trial? The eight o' them broke awa' three or four hours ago. It
was real nicely planned.

"Ye see the airshaft there! It runs richt into the top o' the wall and
ventilates the prison where the men sleep. There was ootside
collusion, of coorse. Standin' on a horse, I guess they threw a rope
into the airshaft from the ootside and it slid richt doon to the
passageway, inside. They say one of the prisoners was a good hand at
pickin' locks and that he did them a' wi' a hairpin. Maybe he did. But
they got oot o' their cells anyway, climbed the rope one at a time,
crawled up the airshaft and out. Just look