"Ay, there's nae talk but marrying yonder. I am thinking the mistress would rather be having the other man," said she, and rose to put peat on the fire.

"Whatever other man is it?" says the mother.

"Kate will be meaning Dan McBride's b.a.s.t.a.r.d," says Dol Beag, and his hand shook a little on the hook.

"He is free with his money whatever, and a fine man they are saying."

"Ay, ay, the father o' him was free with his gifts too," said her father. "They will all be thonder, I am thinking. Laird and leddies and b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, the whole clamjamfry. We will be hoping for a good day at the time o' the year."

"John McCook would be telling me there will be a ploy that night at the Cleiteadh mor," said the la.s.s; "the folk will have a cargo ready.

McBride and his son will be there for the ploy," said the la.s.s, "but he said no' to be speaking of it."

Her father stopped a little at his baiting.

"They were aye the great hands for a ploy," said he, and twitched his shoulder, and the black shadow on the wall wobbled and was still.

There came a long whistle as you will hear a shepherd call.

"That will be himsel'," said Kate.

"Fetch the lad in," said the mother, and went to the fire.

Dol Beag took down the great Bible. "We will worship the Lord," said he, "before you will be leaving," and he opened the Book and read, and the voice of him rolled in relish of the Gaelic, and then they kneeled on the bare floor and Dol Beag prayed before his G.o.d, and John McCook, opening his eyes, saw his la.s.s smiling to him.

The lad and la.s.s took the hill road in the moonlight, and the mother watching them.

Dol Beag lay in his bed long, turning and turning like a man not at his ease, and then he rose and put his clothes on him.

"Where will you be going at this hour?" said his wife.

"Woman," said he, "I will have forgotten if the skiff is high on the sh.o.r.e-head, for the wind is away to the west'ard," and he went out into the night.

In an hour maybe he was in again and the cruisie lighted, and again he fell on his knees by the side of the bed and prayed aloud, and his wife would be hearing in her sleep.

"Lord, look on Thy servant. Was not I the straight one before Thee, straight like a young tree, and strong before Thee. Lord, look then from that great mountain. Thy home and Thy dwelling-place, and see me, Thy servant, twisted and gnarled like the roots of a fallen tree. It will be in Thy hands to raise up or cast down, and the wicked are before Thee. Strike, G.o.d of Battle, and the raging sea, strike and spare not the wicked, for Thy servant will have waited long."

Gilchrist, who was now the head of the gangers and preventives, turned on his pillow after Dol Beag had crept out.

"Ay, Mirren Stuart," said he, "Mirren Stuart that rade the Uist pony and laughed at me in my young days--maybe, Mirren, ye will come to my door yet--my _back_ door."

And those two that took the road up through the Glen by the burnside past the very trees where Bryde and Helen sat on yon June morning when the spider-webs were floating--John and Kate that dawdled on the road, for never was a road too long for young folk in love--these two would be making but the one shadow on the road, for the la.s.s had thrown her shawl over them both, and for a long time they were in the heather, not far from Birrican, at a place they will be calling Oliver's garden--the wherefore I will not know, unless maybe some of Cromwell's men would be killed there, for I have heard the old folk say that Cromwell's garrison at the Castle would be put to the sword; but I have no sure knowledge of the garrison, or of the place of the killing, although I am hoping that the folk did bravely, for it is never in me to be forgiving the Drove at Dunbar. But it was not Dunbar that these lovers were heeding about--ye will have been in the heather with a la.s.s maybe, so you will be guessing that.

"Would you be telling the mother of you that we would be for marrying, Kate?"

"Yes," said the la.s.s in a whisper, and put her head against the curve of his breast. "I could be sleeping here."

"Och, my la.s.s, it is fine to be sleeping in the heather. My father and his brother would be lying out like the kye in the summer, when they would be at the smuggling, they will be often telling me. And, Kate,"

said he, "you would not be saying any word o' the ploy at the Cleiteadh mor, for your father, Dol Beag, is not very chief with Dan McBride."

"It will not be spoken of," said she; but the la.s.s held her man the closer. "You will not be thinking of going to that place. I could not be letting you go there now."

"It will be the rent o' the crofts and steadings, the smuggling money,"

said he, "and sair wrocht for, and if they will not be hindering me, I will be going there. I was hearing at hame that Gilchrist is mad for a new hoose, and he will have the promise of it if he can be putting hands on a still, or 'making seizure,' as they will be naming it."

A shiver went over the la.s.s. "What is it makes ye grue?"

"I am wishing to greet to think you will be leaving me on that night."

"Come hame, la.s.s," said McCook, and shook himself as a horse will shake on a cold day; "there is a goose on my grave too," said he, and laughed and kissed her.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

WHAT CAME OF THE PLOY.

Bryde and Margaret would be aye at their planning, and the la.s.s with a glamour of joy at the sewing and marking of linen; and whiles it would seem that Bryde himself was forgot, but there would be times when they would be away for hours together, the la.s.s with her two arms clinging to his, and laughing up into his face, and the folk would be smiling to be just seeing her, for it was as though her love was so good and great a power that she must be kind to the whole world.

"Why will you be loving me?" she would cry, and stand, her great blue eyes all loving.

"My dear," Bryde would say, "the day grows brighter when you are with me; there is peace in my heart and gladness. The flowers are more beautiful and the sea is grander. Och, I cannot be telling you in words."

"I will be content and listen; this is the way of it with me," and she put her hand to her breast. "There is something here that will grow when you are near me, and I am telling myself that will be my happiness choking me. Am I not the daft la.s.s?"

And little Hamish would be with them often, and Dan and Belle were proud folk, but walking soberly for fear of too much happiness; but once when we watched the father and his two sons coming home, and the young boy between them, begging to be lifted and swung across little pools. Belle spoke--

"Hamish, keep guard," she said in that droll fashion that belonged to her. "Once when I was young there was a dream of evil came on me, but I am forgetting it--I am forgetting."

"I will be loath to part with Bryde," said Dan. "We were long strangers; but, Hamish, my heart cannot hold the love I will have for him, and maybe when Hamish Og is grown he will go to Bryde's place, and Bryde will be coming home. I would be wishing to see a grandson."

And at the Big House it would be Bryde this and Bryde that, till I am thinking poor Hugh would be near demented.

And the night before the wedding Bryde stayed with us, and we had a great night of it, for Hugh would not be having any other for his best man, as they will be calling it, and Margaret was to be helping the la.s.s Helen, and was at Glenscaur already with the Laird and her mother, and that night Hugh slept with Bryde like boys again, and I would be hearing the laughing of them.

In the morning Bryde was up and crying that the sun was shining, and that it would be time to be on the road.

"You will not be last at your ain wedding," he would say to Hugh, for the boy was not very clever with his fingers that day; but we gave him a good jorum, and he brisked up at that, and we got on the horses and away, with the bauchles raining round our lugs and the horses sketch.

On all the road the folk would be walking to be seeing the couple, and it was all we could be doing to be holding the horses, for there would be salutes from blunderbusses, and flags on the trams of creels, old flags and tattered from many's the sea, and we came to Scaurdale, and smuggled Hugh into the house like a thief, for fear he would be seeing Helen, and got at the dressing of him.

It was Bryde who had mind of all the freits.

"Something old and something new, Something borrowed and something blue,"