It was dusk before Hugh turned his steps homeward.  He wandered along, thinking of Euphra and the Count and the stolen rings.  He greatly desired to clear himself to Mr. Arnold.  He saw that the nature of the ring tended to justify Mr. Arnold’s suspicions; for a man who would not steal for money’s worth, might yet steal for value of another sort, addressing itself to some peculiar weakness; and Mr. Arnold might have met with instances of this nature in his position as magistrate.  He greatly desired, likewise, for Euphra’s sake, to have Funkelstein in his power.  His own ring was beyond recovery; but if, by its means, he could hold such a lash over him as would terrify him from again exercising his villanous influences on her, he would be satisfied.

While plunged in this contemplation, he came upon two policemen talking together.  He recognized one of them as a Scotchman, from his speech.  It occurred to him at once to ask his advice, in a modified manner; and a moment’s reflection convinced him that it would at least do no harm.  He would do it.  It was one of those resolutions at which one arrives by an arrow flight of the intellect.

“You are a countryman of mine, I think,” said he, as soon as the two had parted.

“If ye’re a Scotchman, sir —­ may be ay, may be no.”

“Whaur come ye frae, man?”

“Ou, Aberdeen-awa.”

“It’s mine ain calf-country.  An’ what do they ca’ ye?”

“They ca’ me John MacPherson.”

“My name’s Sutherland.”

“Eh, man!  It’s my ain mither’s name.  Gie’s a grup o’ yer han’, Maister Sutherlan’. —­ Eh, man!” he repeated, shaking Hugh’s hand with vehemence.

“I have no doubt,” said Hugh, relapsing into English, “that we are some cousins or other.  It’s very lucky for me to find a relative, for I wanted some —­ advice.”

He took care to say advice, which a Scotchman is generally prepared to bestow of his best.  Had it been sixpence, the cousinship would have required elaborate proof, before the treaty could have made further progress.

“I’m fully at your service, sir.”

“When will you be off duty?”

“At nine o’clock preceesely.”

“Come to No. 13, —­ Square, and ask for me.  It’s not far.”

“Wi’ pleesir, sir, ’gin ’twar twise as far.”

Hugh would not have ventured to ask him to his house on Sunday night, when no refreshments could be procured, had he not remembered a small pig (Anglice stone bottle) of real mountain dew, which he had carried with him when he went to Arnstead, and which had lain unopened in one of his boxes.

Miss Talbot received her lodger with more show of pleasure than usual, for he came lapped in the odour of the deacon’s sanctity.  But she was considerably alarmed and beyond measure shocked when the policeman called and requested to see him.  Sally had rushed in to her mistress in dismay.