t now that the
news was hers. "You are in the very close you are looking for," and she
turned and hurried up the street to spread the news as fast as could be.

The boy turned away, angry with himself to have blurted out his news to
the first stranger with the curiosity to question him, and halfway up
the stairs he had to pause a little to get in the right mood for his
errand. Then he went up the remaining steps and rapped at the door.

"Come in," cried a frank and hearty woman's voice. He put down the sneck
with his thumb and pushed in the door and followed.

A little window facing the sea gave light to the interior, that would
have been dull and mean but for the brilliant delf upon the dresser rack
and the cleanliness of all things and the smiling faces of Jean Clerk
and her sister. The hum of Jean's wheel had filled the chamber as he
entered; now it was stilled and the spinner sat with the wool pinched in
her fingers, as she welcomed her little relative. Her sister--Aliset Dhu
they called her, and if black she was, it had been long ago, for now her
hair was like the drifted snow--stood behind her, looking up from her
girdle where oaten bannocks toasted.

He stood with his bonnet in his hand. Against his will the grief of his
loss swept over him more masterfully than it had yet done, for those two
sisters had never been seen by him before except in the company of their
relative the little old woman with a face like a nut, and the sobs
that shook him were checked by no reflection of the play-actor. He was
incapable of utterance.

"O my boy, my boy!" cried Jean Clerk. "Do I not know your story?
I dreamt last night I saw a white horse galloping over Tombreck to
Ladyfield and the rider of him had his face in his plaid. Peace with
her, and her share of Paradise!"

And thus my hero, who thought so much upon the way of his message, had
no need to convey it any way at all.

CHAPTER II--THE PENSIONERS

"Go round," said Jean Clerk, "and tell the Paymaster; he'll be the sorry
man to lose his manager."

"Will he be in his house?" asked Gilian, eating the last of his town
bread with butter and sugar.

"In his house indeed!" cried Jean, her eyes still red with weeping. "It
is easy to see you are from the glen, when at this time of day you would
be for seeking a gentleman soldier in his own house in this town. No!
no! go round to Sergeant More's change-house, at the quay-head, and
you'll find the Captain there with