Such a man--a gentleman, the inn folk called him--had walked in there, asked for a glass of whisky, lingered for a few minutes while he drank it, and had gone out again.

And from that point we lost all trace of him.

We were now, of course, within a few miles of the place where the man had been murdered, and the people on both sides of the river were all in a high state of excitement about it; but we could learn nothing more.

From the moment of the man's leaving the inn on the Coldstream side of the bridge, nobody seemed to have seen him until I myself found his body.
There was another back-set for us when we reached Berwick--in the reply from Dundee.

It was brief and decisive enough.