rspread the place. He and Black Alan stood still upon the moor
brow. Large against the long, clean, horizon sweep, they looked the
sun-bathed, stone figures of horse and man, set there long ago,
guarding the moor, giving warning of the kelpie.

"None has been found to warn. There is none but the kelpie waits
for.... But punish--punish!"

He and Black Alan pushed on to the head of the glen. Here was Mother
Binning's cot, and here he dismounted, fastening the horse to the
ash-tree. Mother Binning was outdoors, gathering herbs in her apron.

* * * * *

She straightened herself as he stepped toward her. "Eh, laird of
Glenfernie, ye gave me a start! I thought ye came out of the ground by
the ash-tree!... Wound is healed, and life runs on to another
springtime?"

"Yes, it's another springtime.... I do not think that I believe in
scrying, Mother Binning. But I'm where I pick up all straws with which
to build me a nest! Sit down and scry for me, will you?"

"I canna scry every day, nor every noon, nor every year. What are you
wanting to see, Glenfernie?"

"Oh, just my soul's desire!"

Mother Binning turned to her door. She put down the herbs, then
brought a pan of water and set it down upon the door-step, and herself
beside it. "It helps--onything that's still and clear! Wait till the
ripple's gane, and then dinna speak to me. But gin I see onything, it
will na be sae great a thing as a soul's desire."

She sat still and he stood still, leaning against the side of her
house. Mother Binning sat with fixed gaze. Her lips moved. "There's
the white mist. It's clearing."

"Tell me if you see a ship."

"Yes, I see it...."

"Tell me if you see its port."

"Yes, I see."

"Describe it--the houses, the country, the dress and look of the
people--"

Mother Binning did so.

"That's not Holland--that would be Lisbon. Look at the ship again,
Mother. Look at the sailors. Look at the passengers if there are any.
Whom do you see?"

"Ah!" said Mother Binning. "There's a braw wrong-doer for you, sitting
drinking Spanish wine!"

"Say his name."

"It's he that once, when you were a lad, you brought alive from the
Kelpie's Pool."

"Thank you, Mother! That's what I wanted. _Scrying!_ Who gives to
whom--who gives back to whom? The underneath great I, I suppose. Left
hand giving to right--and no brand-new news! All the same, other
drifts concurring, I think that he fled by the Lisbon ship!"