aft
words! And ye'll do it yet, I daursay, since it's the nature o' woman
to be sae beguiled," added the mistress with a sigh.

But her interest was a silent interest. She never named their names
together in a neighbour's hearing.

It was of her brother that Allison was thinking all this time--of poor
Willie, who, as she believed, had never seen the sunshine, or even the
light of all these summer days. Every night and every morning she
counted the days that must pass before he should be set free to go to
his own house; and she rejoiced and suffered beforehand, as he must
rejoice and suffer when that time came.

It would be November then. She knew just how Grassie would look to him
under the grey sky, or the slanting rain, with the mist lying low in the
hollows, and the wind sighing among the fir-trees on the height. She
could see the dull patches of stubble, and the bare hedges, and the
garden where only a touch of green lingered among the withered
rose-bushes and berry-bushes, and the bare stalks of the flowers which
they used to care for together.

She saw the wet ricks in the corn-yard, and the little pools left in the
footmarks of the beasts about the door. She heard the lowing of the
cows in the byre, and the bleating of the sheep in the fold, and she
knew how all familiar sights and sounds would hurt the lad, who would
never more see the face or hear the voice of kith or kin in the house
where he was born. How could he ever bear it?

"Oh! God, be good to him when that day comes!" was her cry.

And since they had agreed that they must not meet on this side of the
sea, was there no other way in which she might reach him for his good?
She had thought of many impossible ways before she thought of John
Beaton. It was in the kirk, one Sabbath-day, that the thought of him
came.

The day was wet and windy, and Marjorie was not there to fill her
thoughts, and they wandered away to Willie in the prison, and she fell
to counting the days again, saying to herself: "How could he ever bear
it?"

She was afraid for him. She strove against her fears, but she was
afraid--of the evil ways into which, being left to himself, or to the
guidance of evil men, he might be tempted to fall. Oh! if she might go
to him! Or if she had a friend whom she might trust to go in her stead!

And then she lifted her eyes and met those of John Beaton. She did not
start, nor grow red, nor turn away. But her whole face changed.