The behaviour of the huntsman struck Brown, although he had no recollection of his face, nor could conceive why he should, as it appeared he evidently did, shun his observation.  Could he be one of the footpads he had encountered a few days before?  The supposition was not altogether improbable, although unwarranted by any observation he was able to make upon the man’s figure and face.  To be sure the villains wore their hats much slouched, and had loose coats, and their size was not in any way so peculiarly discriminated as to enable him to resort to that criterion.  He resolved to speak to his host Dinmont on the subject, but for obvious reasons concluded it were best to defer the explanation until a cool hour in the morning.

The sportsmen returned loaded with fish, upwards of one hundred salmon having been killed within the range of their sport.  The best were selected for the use of the principal farmers, the others divided among their shepherds, cottars, dependents, and others of inferior rank who attended.  These fish, dried in the turf smoke of their cabins or shealings, formed a savoury addition to the mess of potatoes, mixed with onions, which was the principal part of their winter food.  In the meanwhile a liberal distribution of ale and whisky was made among them, besides what was called a kettle of fish,—­two or three salmon, namely, plunged into a cauldron and boiled for their supper.  Brown accompanied his jolly landlord and the rest of his friends into the large and smoky kitchen, where this savoury mess reeked on an oaken table, massive enough to have dined Johnnie Armstrong and his merry-men.  All was hearty cheer and huzza, and jest and clamorous laughter, and bragging alternately, and raillery between whiles.  Our traveller looked earnestly around for the dark countenance of the fox-hunter; but it was nowhere to be seen.

At length he hazarded a question concerning him.  ’That was an awkward accident, my lads, of one of you, who dropped his torch in the water when his companion was struggling with the large fish.’

‘Awkward!’ returned a shepherd, looking up (the same stout young fellow who had speared the salmon); ’he deserved his paiks for’t, to put out the light when the fish was on ane’s witters!  I’m weel convinced Gabriel drapped the roughies in the water on purpose; he doesna like to see ony body do a thing better than himsell.’

‘Ay,’ said another, ‘he’s sair shamed o’ himsell, else he would have been up here the night; Gabriel likes a little o’ the gude thing as weel as ony o’ us.’

‘Is he of this country?’ said Brown.

’Na, na, he’s been but shortly in office, but he’s a fell hunter; he’s frae down the country, some gate on the Dumfries side.’

‘And what’s his name, pray?’

‘Gabriel.’

‘But Gabriel what?’

’Oh, Lord kens that; we dinna mind folk’s afternames muckle here, they run sae muckle into clans.’