; "them 'at leaves
their auld mother to want doesna deserve a lift."

"Ay, ye say that sittin' there," Hookey said; "but, lads, I saw his
face, an' as sure as death it was sic an' awfu' meeserable face 'at I
couldna but pu' the powny up. Weel, he stood for the space o' a
meenute lookin' straucht at me, as if he would like to come forrit but
dauredna, an' syne he turned an' strided awa ower the muir like a
huntit thing. I sat still i' the cart, an' when he was far awa he
stoppit an' lookit again, but a' my cryin' wouldna bring him a step
back, an' i' the end I drove on. I've thocht since syne 'at he didna
ken whether his fowk was livin' or deid, an' was fleid to speir."

"He didna ken," said T'nowhead, "but the faut was his ain. It's ower
late to be ta'en up aboot Jess noo."

"Ay, ay, T'nowhead," said Hookey, "it's aisy to you to speak like that.
Ye didna see his face."

It is believed that Jamie walked from Tilliedrum, though no one is
known to have met him on the road. Some two hours after the post left
him he was seen by old Rob Angus at the sawmill.

"I was sawin' awa wi' a' my micht," Rob said, "an' little Rob was
haudin' the booards, for they were silly but things, when something
made me look at the window. It couldna hae been a tap on't, for the
birds has used me to that, an' it would hardly be a shadow, for little
Rob didna look up. Whatever it was, I stoppit i' the middle o' a
booard, an' lookit up, an' there I saw Jamie McQumpha. He joukit back
when our een met, but I saw him weel; ay, it's a queer thing to say,
but he had the face o' a man 'at had come straucht frae hell."

"I stood starin' at the window," Angus continued, "after he'd gone, an'
Robbie cried oot to ken what was the maiter wi' me. Ay, that brocht me
back to mysel, an' I hurried oot to look for Jamie, but he wasna to be
seen. That face gae me a turn."

From the saw-mill to the house at the top of the brae, some may
remember, the road is up the commonty. I do not think any one saw
Jamie on the commonty, though there were those to say they met him.

"He gae me sic a look," a woman said, "'at I was fleid an' ran hame,"
but she did not tell the story until Jamie's home-coming had become a
legend.

There were many women hanging out their washing on the commonty that
day, and none of them saw him. I think Jamie must have approached his
old home by the fields, and probably he held back until gloaming.

The young woman who was now