had, I'm afraid," she said, handing
down another cup of tea to him. "Lawing with Pitcairn and dealing with
all manner of roguery and villainy on the burn-side have taught me many
things. These two gentlemen have reared me up in a strange way. Once I
heard Sandy say:

"'She's a filly that's got to be given her head, and she'll soon learn
the fences that it is wise to take and the ones that it is wise to let
alone.'"

"And were we not wise?" Sandy interrupted, "were we not wise? Ye know,
Mistress Stair, ye were no easy matter to bring up. Always like a
flower, gentle as a ewe lamb, seeing into everybody's heart,
verse-making till your poor little head ached, joining gipsy folk,
foregathering with tramps and criminals, wheedling the heart out of
every one of us, but under it all, fixed in a determination to have
your own way in spite of the deil himself. Ye were a pretty problem for
two lone men to handle."

"Don't be believing them, Dandy," she said, turning the light of those
wonderful gray eyes down on him. "Ye will not, will ye? They are not
always truthful," she said, with a side-glance toward us both.

"In spite of your training?" Dandy laughed.

"In spite of my training," Nancy answered demurely.

As we sat thus, the bright warm day passing lazily toward the twilight,
I saw a figure come from one of the houses on the burn, and start at
the top of speed along the ford-rift, which led through the harrowed
field. As it neared the south gate I saw that it was Jamie Henderlin,
who broke into our group, his pallor and anxiety forming abundant
excuse for the interruption to our talk.

"Miss Nancy," he cried, "they've convicted him!"

"Convicted Lapraik?" Nancy asked, as though it were impossible.

"Yes, in an hour or less. Pitcairn had another witness--and Tod's
sentenced to transportation!"

No happening which I can think of would have set Nancy Stair more
plainly before Danvers than this one, which fell directly beneath his
eye.

"But," she said, and her eyes blackened as she spoke, "the man is
innocent."

"Every one knows it," Jamie cried; "but Meenie's like to go to the
grave because of the trouble, which means naught to Pitcairn or to him
called the Duke of Borthwicke."

"Ah, well, Jamie," said Nancy soothingly, "you must not worry over it.
There is more than one way to circumvent Mr. Pitcairn; and a few
jurymen, more or less, are nothing to fash one's soul about one way or
another. Who was the new w