ed her down he briefly narrated his
adventure.

'Aweel,' commented Dand to himself, shaking his head the while, as he
led the mare to the byre, 'I'm nane so sure but I would ha' juist pit up
wi' the hangin'.' Then he added aloud, 'The wife will be sair vext when
she sees the Scots heifer ye ha' ridden back wi'.'

Meg's good-nature, however, her willingness to help, and her skill in
cooking soon triumphed over Sall's ill-humour, and peace reigned within
the 'but' as supper was being made ready that evening.

Afterwards within the 'ben,' sitting cheek by jowl upon a rough bench
beside the peats the Northumbrian bridegroom, and the Scots bride found
much to content them, either with the other, whilst Maud the collie, who
had stolen in with them, looked with resentment in her soft brown liquid
eyes upon the strange woman who had so unexpectedly taken her place with
the master, and might have been seen to frown when Si redeemed his
promise of 'plenty mair' to 'Meg' on their ride home to 'the Bower.'

'The Bower,' as Si had christened his dwelling--originally a shepherd's
sheiling--had recently been enlarged by the addition of the 'ben' and a
room above the 'but,' so that the building had the look of a lop-sided,
rough peel tower.

With help of his brothers down the water and a mason from Falstone Si
had run a dry-stone dyke--strengthened with fir tree trunks--round about
for the protection of his sheep and nowt in the event of a foray, and
was as pleased with 'the Bower' as Lord William Howard with Naworth.
'Twas a quaint name enough, for 'the Bower' stood on the true march line
of the naked Border, and in the very haunt and playground of the winds.
Not only was it obnoxious to the winds, but equally exposed to raiding
from Scotland, as also to the 'broken men' of 'the Waste,' for it stood
erect above the Lewis Burn where it flows forth from Hells-bottom on
the edge of Coplestone, where the Liddesdale fells join hands with those
of Cumbrian Bewcastle.

Yet Si had prospered, for his 'grayne' befriended him, and as for the
fierce reivers from Liddesdale, why, he would ride with them so long as
they ran their forays into Cumberland or Scotland and not within North
Tyne.

And now the 'Hunters' Moon' was up, waxing nightly, and proclaiming to
all about the Borderland that the customary truce of summer was over,
and the time of the crowing of the 'Red Cock' was at hand.

Danger, however, came not from Scotland in the firs