company you
to Whitsome fair to-morrow."

"Nay, thou canst not go, dear," returned Patrick; "it is a long ride and
a rough one; and the society thou wilt meet with will afford thee no
pleasure, and but small amusement."

"I must go," she replied--"a strange being has laid a terrible command
on me!"

"A grey-haired, wild-looking woman?" ejaculated Patrick, and his voice
trembled as he spoke.

"Ask me no more," was her reply, "I must--I will accompany you."

"A dead dream," said the youth, "seems bursting into life within my
brain. There are once familiar words ready to leap to my tongue that I
cannot utter; and long forgotten memories haunting my mind, and flinging
their shadows over it as though the substance again were approaching.
But the woman that ye speak of!--yes! yes!--there is something more than
a dream, dear Anne, that links my fate with her! I remember--I am sure
it is no fancy--I do remember having been at a fair when I was a
child--a mere child--and the woman ye allude to was there! Yes!
yes!--you must accompany us! I feel, I am certain, that woman hath,
indeed, my destiny in her hands!"

"Gudeness me!" exclaimed Sandy, "what is it that ye twasome are saying
between ye? Is there ony light thrown upon the awd story; or, is it only
the half-crazed randy--(forgie me for ca'ing the poor afflicted creature
by ony sic name)--but, I say, is it only some o' the same nonsense that
Babby Moor has been cramming into Anne's ear wi' which she has filled
thine, lad? Upon my word, if I had my will o' the awd witch, I would
douk her in the Reed till she confessed that every story she has tould
to thee was a lie from end to end."

"Well, father," said Patrick--for he always called Sandy father--"let
Anne accompany us to the fair--she requests it, and I will also request
it for her."

"Ou, ye knaw," said Sandy, "if ye hae made up yer minds between
yourselves that ye are determined to gang, I suppose it would be o' no
use for me to offer opposition to owther o' the two o' ye. So, if thou
wilt go, get thee ready, Anne, my dear, for it will take us to be off
frae here by twelve o'clock t'night, for it is a lang ride, and a rugged
ride, as thou wilt find it to thy cost, ere ye be back again. I was
never there for my own part; but I hear that the sale o' feeding cattle
is expected to be gud--and there I maun be. So, get thee ready,
daughter, if ye will go, and hap thysel' weel up."

At midnight, Sandy Reed, his daught