urprise. "What ken
ye aboot him?"

"Oh, I ken he's a honest lad," she said, "an' he brings ye a message
frae the gardener o' Balmaghie that ye are to accompany him there for
greater safety."

"A likely story!" returned I, for I was none too well pleased to be
wakened up out of my sleep at that time in the morning to see a regiment
of Balmaghie gardeners. "There is great safety in the neighbourhood of
the eagle's nest!"

"There is so," said Jean Gordon, dryly--"for sparrows. 'Tis the safest
place in the world for the like of them to build, for the eagle will not
touch them, an' the lesser gleds dare not come near."

Nor do I think that this saying pleased me over well, because I thought
that a Gordon of Earlstoun, of whatever rank, was a city set on a hill
that could not be hid.

Then Jean Gordon, the hermit of the Garpel glen, bade me an adieu,
giving me an old-fashioned salutation as well, which savoured little of
having forgotten all that she had lightlied to me.

"Tak' tent to yoursel'," she said. "Ye are a good lad and none so
feckless as ye look. There's stuff and fushion in ye, an' ye micht even
tak' the e'e o' woman--gin ye wad pad your legs."

And with this she went in, leaving me in a quandary whether to throw a
stone at her, or run back and take her round the neck.

I found the gardener of Balmaghie standing with his back towards me. He
walked on a little before me without speaking, as though wishing me to
follow him. He was, to the back view, dressed but ordinarily, yet with
some of the neatness of a proper gentleman's servant.

And this was a great deal in a country where for common the men wear
little that is handsome, save and except the Sabbath cloak--which if it
do not, like charity, cover a multitude of sins, of a truth hides a
multitude of old duddy clothes.

At the foot of the burn, where by the bridge it runs over some black and
rugged rocks, the gardener stopped and turned round. I declare I never
gat a greater or more pleasant surprise in my life, save as it may be,
once--of what I have yet to tell.

"Wat, dear Wat!" I cried, and ran to him. We clasped one another's
hands, and then we stood a little off, gazing each at the other. I had
not known that I was so fond of him. But nothing draws the heart like
coming through trials together. At least, so it is with men. 'Twixt
women and men so many things draw the heart, that it is well-nigh
impossible to separate one thing from the other.