'Come here.' The two rifle-bearers--solemn gillies--brought their weapons to attention.
'By God,' he said, 'it's the man.

What's your name?
Keep him covered, Angus.' The gillies duly covered me, and I did not like the look of their wavering barrels.

They were obviously as surprised as myself.
I had about half a second to make my plans.

I advanced with a very stiff air, and asked him what the devil he meant.

No Lowland Scots for me now.