left at the wheel, and Mysie forget her
household, and Andrew forgot his argument, and the preacher at last
said,

"You shall tell us, Davie, what the Lord has done for you since you
left your father's house."

"He has been gude to me, vera gude. I had a broad Scot's tongue in my
head, and I determined to go northward. I had little siller and I had
to walk, and by the time I reached Ecclefechan I had reason enough to
be sorry for the step I had taken. As I was sitting by the fireside o'
the little inn there a man came in who said he was going to Carlisle
to hire a shepherd. I did not like the man, but I was tired and had
not plack nor bawbee, so I e'en asked him for the place. When he heard
I was Cumberland born, and had been among sheep all my life, he was
fain enough, and we soon 'greed about the fee.

"He was a harder master than Laban, but he had a daughter who was as
bonnie as Rachel, and I loved the lass wi' my whole soul, and she
loved me. I ne'er thought about being her father's hired man. I was
aye Davie Cargill to mysel', and I had soon enough told Bessie all
about my father and mither and hame. I spoke to her father at last,
but he wouldna listen to me. He just ordered me off his place, and
Bessie went wi' me.

"I know now that we did wrang, but we thought then that we were right.
We had a few pounds between us and we gaed to Carlisle. But naething
went as it should hae done. I could get nae wark, and Bessie fell into
vera bad health; but she had a brave spirit, and she begged me to
leave her in Carlisle and go my lane to Glasgow. 'For when wark an'
siller arena i' one place, Davie,' she said, 'then they're safe to be
in another.'

"I swithered lang about leaving her, but a good opportunity came, and
Bessie promised me to go back to her father until I could come after
her. It was July then, and when Christmas came round I had saved money
enough, and I started wi' a blithe heart to Ecclefechan. I hadna any
fear o' harm to my bonnie bit wifie, for she had promised to go to her
hame, and I was sure she would be mair than welcome when she went
without me. I didna expect any letters, because Bessie couldna write,
and, indeed, I was poor enough wi' my pen at that time, and only wrote
once to tell her I had good wark and would be for her a New Year.

"But when I went I found that Bessie had gane, and none knew where. I
traced her to Keswick poor-house, where she had a little lad; the
matron said she went awa