come in there. And never another word was said till
such times as we would be going gently, feeling, as it were, for the
little gut in the rock, where we made a habit of coming ashore.

The sky was clearing to the eastward, the light giving a droll shape to
the bushes, and showing a little mist hanging low when the keel grated
on the gravel, and there on the shore-head was a man standing, a
sea-coat, as I think they name it, round him. The eeriness of the dim
light, the wild squawks of the sea-birds in the ears, and that great
dark figure standing motionless, put a dread on the serving-man.

"In the name of God," said he, "cho-sin (who is it)?"

"If he is Finn himself," said I, trying to be bold, "he will be giving
us a hand with the skiff whatever."

There came a ringing laugh from the stranger.

"Well done, Hamish; ye'll aye make good your putt--a bonny lan' tack
they would make wanting you."

"It is he," cried the serving-man.

"Bryde," I cried, "what is it makes you come back this way and at this
time of the night?"

These were the daftlike words I had for him, and me holding his hand
and clapping him on the back, as if he were a wean again.

"It was a notion I had," said he, "to come back the way I would be
leaving yon time--in the dark."

[1] Frisky.

CHAPTER XXX.

TELLS WHERE BRYDE MET HAMISH OG.

What would you be having me tell you now?--of how we carried the fish
home from the skiff, of how we walked slowly up the shore road, with
Bryde standing to look at the places he would have been remembering.

"I have been in many places," said he, "but I am not remembering so
bonny a place as this."

Would it be pleasing you to hear that when we came to the Big House,
Bryde left me standing, and went through the wood behind the stackyard
and stood on the knowe and looked at the window where the Flower of
Nourn slept.

"Now," said he after that, "I will go to my mother."

"She will be awaiting," said I, "your mother and the boy Hamish--your
brother."

"And who," said he stopping, "who is the father of my brother?" and
there was a whistling of his breath in his nostrils.

"Your father," said I.

"Ah," said he, "is that man home?" and his pace was quicker and there
was a line deep in his brows. "How long has my father been in this
place?"

"It would be soon after you would be following the seas, and they were
married."

"He was a little behind the fair, it seems," and the bitternes