k
that Mistress Jean, for whom everybody had such a respect, should
speak of the creature in such a tone!--it sent a thrill of horrific
wonder and delight through the whole frame of the boy: might, could
there be such creatures? And thereupon began to open to his
imagination vista after vista into the realms of might-be
possibility--where dwelt whole clans and kins of creatures,
differing from us and our kin, yet occasionally, at the cross-roads
of creation, coming into contact with us, and influencing us not
greatly, perhaps, yet strangely and notably. Not once did the real
brownie occur to him--the small, naked Gibbie, far more marvellous
and admirable than any brownie of legendary fable or fact, whether
celebrated in rude old Scots ballad for his taeless feet, or
designated in noble English poem of perfect art, as lubber fiend of
hairy length.

Jean Mavor came from a valley far withdrawn in the folds of the
Gormgarnet mountains, where in her youth she had heard yet stranger
tales than had ever come to Donal's ears, of which some had perhaps
kept their hold the more firmly that she had never heard them even
alluded to since she left her home. Her brother, a hard-headed
highlander, as canny as any lowland Scot, would have laughed to
scorn the most passing reference to such an existence; and Fergus,
who had had a lowland mother--and nowhere is there less of so-called
superstition than in most parts of the lowlands of Scotland--would
have joined heartily in his mockery. For the cowherd, however, as I
say, the idea had no small attraction, and his stare was the
reflection of Mistress Jean's own--for the soul is a live mirror, at
once receiving into its centre, and reflecting from its surface.

"Div ye railly think it, mem?" said Donal at last.

"Think what?" retorted Jean, sharply, jealous instantly of being
compromised, and perhaps not certain that she had spoken aloud.

"Div ye railly think 'at there is sic craturs as broonies, Mistress
Jean?" said Donal.

"Wha kens what there is an' what there isna?" returned Jean: she was
not going to commit herself either way. Even had she imagined
herself above believing such things, she would not have dared to say
so; for there was a time still near in her memory, though unknown to
any now upon the farm except her brother, when the Mains of
Glashruach was the talk of Daurside because of certain inexplicable
nightly disorders that fell out there; the slang rows, or