imitless fortune; but then Bruce had it. She might as soon think of
robbing a bear of her whelps as getting her own from Bruce. Besides,
what could she do with it if she had it? And she had not yet acquired
the faculty of loving money for its own sake. When she rose to take her
leave, she felt little richer than when she entered, save for the kind
words of John Peterson.

"It's ower late for ye to gang hame yer lane, dawtie," said the old
man.

"I'm nae that fleyt," answered Annie.

"Weel, gin ye walk wi' Him, the mirk'll be licht aboot ye," said he,
taking off his Highland bonnet, and looking up with a silent
recognition of the care of _Him_. "Be a gude lass," he resumed,
replacing his bonnet, "an' rin hame as fest's ye can. Gude nicht to ye,
dawtie."

Rejoicing as if she had found her long-lost home, Annie went out into
the deep gloamin feeling it impossible she should be frightened at
anything. But when she came to the part of the road bordered with
trees, she could not help fancying she saw a figure flitting along from
tree to tree just within the deeper dusk of the wood, and as she
hurried on, fancy grew to fear. Presently she heard awful sounds, like
the subdued growling of wild beasts. She would have taken to her heels
in terror, but she reflected that thereby she would only insure
pursuit, whereas she might slip away unperceived. As she reached a
stile leading into the wood, however, a dusky figure came bounding over
it, and advanced towards her. To her relief it went on two legs; and
when it came nearer she thought she recognized some traits of old
acquaintance about it. When it was within a couple of yards of her, as
she still pursued her way towards Glamerton, she stopped and cried out
joyfully:

"Curly!"--for it was her old vice-champion.

"Annie!" was the equally joyful response.

"I thocht ye was a wild beast!" said Annie.

"I was only growlin' for fun to mysel'," answered Curly, who would have
done it all the more if he had known there was any one on the road. "I
didna ken 'at I was fleggin' onybody. An' hoo are ye, Annie? An' hoo's
Blister Bruce?"

For Curly was dreadfully prolific in nicknames.

Annie had not seen him for six months. He had continued to show himself
so full of mischief, though of a comparatively innocent sort, that his
father thought it better at last to send him to a town at some distance
to learn the trade of a saddler, for which he had shown a preference.

This was his