ed her to fiercest wrath, for she imagined Gibbie
was emptying her house with leisurely revenge. Satisfied at length,
he floated out his barrel, and followed with the line in his hand,
to aid its direction if necessary. It struck the tree. With a yell
of joy Angus laid hold of it, and hauling the line taut, and feeling
it secure, committed himself at once to the water, holding by the
barrel, and swimming with his legs, while Gibbie, away to the side
with a hold of the rope, was swimming his hardest to draw him out of
the current. But a weary man was Angus, when at length he reached
the house. It was all he could do to get himself in at the window,
and crawl up the stair. At the top of it he fell benumbed on the
floor.

By the time that, repentant and grateful, Mistress Mac Pholp
bethought herself of Gibbie, not a trace of him was to be seen; and
Angus, contemplating his present experience in connection with that
of Robert Grant's cottage, came to the conclusion that he must be an
emissary of Satan who on two such occasions had so unexpectedly
rescued him. Perhaps the idea was not quite so illogical as it must
seem; for how should such a man imagine any other sort of messenger
taking an interest in his life? He was confirmed in the notion when
he found that a yard of the line remained attached to the grate, but
the rest of it with the anker was gone--fit bark for the angel he
imagined Gibbie, to ride the stormy waters withal. While they
looked for him in the water and on the land, Gibbie was again in the
room below, carrying out a fresh thought. With the help of the
table, he emptied the cask, into which a good deal of water had got.
Then he took out the stick, corked the bunghole tight, laced the
cask up in a piece of net, attached the line to the net, and wound
it about the cask by rolling the latter round and round, took the
cask between his hands, and pushed from the window straight into the
current of the Glashburn. In a moment it had swept him to the
Lorrie. By the greater rapidity of the former he got easily across
the heavier current of the latter, and was presently in water
comparatively still, swimming quietly towards the Mains, and
enjoying his trip none the less that he had to keep a sharp
look-out: if he should have to dive, to avoid any drifting object,
he might lose his barrel. Quickly now, had he been so minded, he
could have returned to the city--changing vessel for vessel, as one
after a