" and at that the poor lad was so near the
greetin' that I took him to the kitchen for a meal of meat, and it all
came plain to me as I sat there among the serving bodies and the dogs.

I minded the way the boy had taken the sword from me, as he lay in his
bed. "This will be clearing the way," he had said, and now he would be
started to the clearing, and then there was Margaret.

"You will not be bringing her here again, for I am not strong enough
lying here."

That would be at the time he would be lying with Hugh's sword-stroke in
his thigh, and calling himself a misbegot, and not fit to be speaking
to decent folk. And I minded the pride of him, and kent the very
feelings that had sent him away, but I was wishing he could have stayed
for all that, for his mother's sake.

At that time I had no word of what had happened at the ford of the burn
at Lagavile, or that Mistress Helen in her rage had turned Margaret's
words to her own purpose, but that I got later from Margaret herself.

Well, I went into the house and told them, and there was the tiravee;
and Margaret like to go out at the rigging, for indeed she was a little
spoiled. And Hugh it was that got the rough edge of her tongue, until
"I will go and fetch him back," said he.

"You!" says she, "you! As well might the hoodie-craw bring back the
kestrel," and at that the mother bridled.

"What kind of talk is this in my house?" said she, "and to your
brother. Mend your manners, mistress. What is this fly-by-night (to
say nothing worse) to you?"

"He will be all the man ever I will have," said Margaret, standing up,
and her eyes flashing, and at that her father, roused by her bravery,
laughed aloud.

"Capital," he cried, "capital,"--and then, "Hoot, my wee lass," said
he, "you're young yet. Come away wi' me," and she went out with him,
leaving us sitting mumchance.

"The best thing that could have happened," said the mistress, and made
her way to the kitchen, for if things were not right she must have some
work on her hands.

The very next day I made my way to the stable and found Margaret's
horse gone.

"She is away like the devil spinning heather," said old Tam. "She'll
be at Bothanairidh by noo," and so it was, for when I came to the farm
on the moor there was Margaret, thrang at the talking to the halflin,
and looking blither than I had thought to see her; and thinks I to
myself, he will have been telling her about Bryde and the lighted
windo