atly thought of."

When I was by with the reading of Dan's news, "Ye'll have another
letter," said I, making signs at the pagan.

"Yass," and at that he put it in my hands. It was for Belle.

We got on the road again, the pony trotting now and the messenger
running easily, one brown hand at the stirrup-leather, and very many
times he would be saying "Geelp," till it came on me that McGilp would
be wishing to be seeing me at once.

At Belle's cottage door I dismounted, and with the clatter of the horse
there came old Betty, with that queer look on her face of disdain and
mystery, and just itching to be at the talking.

"_The wean's hame_," said she, and slammed the door with a last nod of
her old head and her lips pursed up; and then there came the snuffling
ill-natured greeting of a wean that made me grue as I made my way to
the byre, for till then my mind had clean forgot the calf I was to be
seeing that day.

In the byre we sat, the heathen and me--for we were but simple men in
this affair--and the byre was a dark place to be sitting, and in a
while old Betty came, havering at hens and talking to herself. As she
came and stood in the doorway and looked closely within, with her back
bent and her hand on the lintel, her eyes fell on the messenger, and
she let a great cry from her in the Gaelic. To be putting it in
English is not so good, but it would be like this, "What dost thou
require of me, father of devils?" and she fell on her knees. Well,
well, I can laugh at that sight yet. But she "came to" in a little,
and took me into the sunlight, and said the gipsy lass would be seeing
me for a little time; and I was taken to Belle's sleeping-place, and
her arm was round her wean, and she was lying on her back, and her
black hair a little damp curling on the pillow.

"You have been very good," said she. "My man, your kinsman, will be
owing you thanks." And at that her eyes suffused, and two great tears
gathered and glittered, and she smiled up to me, and I gave her the
letter and turned away.

In a long while she cried, proud and piteous--

"Bring me the messenger; he will have his father's gift for my son."
And the lilt of joy in her voice made me think shame to be a man at
all. Silently the messenger came, his eyes on the ground, and kneeled,
and at that they were at it in their own Gaelic, and Belle raised the
wean a little, and I saw his face wrinkled and red, and his blue
staring eyes. And the man l