ut there _was_ the beast in it," said Allister.

"When," Kirsty went on without heeding him, "she heard a great _whish_
of water behind her. That was the water tumbling off the beast's back
as he came up from the bottom. If she ran before, she flew now. And
the worst of it was that she couldn't hear him behind her, so as to
tell whereabouts he was. He might be just opening his mouth to take
her every moment. At last she reached the door, which her father, who
had gone out to look for her, had set wide open that she might run in
at once; but all the breath was out of her body, and she fell down
flat just as she got inside."

[Illustration]

Here Allister jumped from his seat, clapping his hands and crying--

"Then the kelpie didn't eat her!--Kirsty! Kirsty!"

"No. But as she fell, one foot was left outside the threshold, so that
the rowan branch could not take care of it. And the beast laid hold of
the foot with his great mouth, to drag her out of the cottage and eat
her at his leisure."

Here Allister's face was a picture to behold! His hair was almost
standing on end, his mouth was open, and his face as white as my
paper.

"Make haste, Kirsty," said Turkey, "or Allister will go in a fit."

"But her shoe came off in his mouth, and she drew in her foot and was
safe."

Allister's hair subsided. He drew a deep breath, and sat down
again. But Turkey must have been a very wise or a very unimaginative
Turkey, for here he broke in with--

"I don't believe a word of it, Kirsty."

"What!" said Kirsty--"don't believe it!"

"No. She lost her shoe in the mud. It was some wild duck she heard in
the pot, and there was no beast after her. She never saw it, you
know."

"She saw it look in at her window."

"Yes, yes. That was in the middle of the night. I've seen as much
myself when I waked up in the middle of the night. I took a rat for a
tiger once."

Kirsty was looking angry, and her needles were going even faster than
when she approached the climax of the shoe.

"Hold your tongue, Turkey," I said, "and let us hear the rest of the
story."

But Kirsty kept her eyes on her knitting, and did not resume.

"Is that all, Kirsty?" said Allister.

Still Kirsty returned no answer. She needed all her force to overcome
the anger she was busy stifling. For it would never do for one in her
position to lose her temper because of the unbelieving criticism of a
herd-boy. It was a curious instance of the electricity flashed