oon! Come wi' me, and bring others
too, to the cliff face below the sitting-stone in the turn o' the path--
and then it's just possible, but it's no likely, ye'll believe what I
have to tell. First, let me say to ye, I'm innocent o' any crime. Do
ye believe that?"

My uncle lookit at me long and hard, and I grippit his hands tight.

"I do," he said, at last.

A weight sprung off my heart.

"Uncle, did I ever tell ye a lee?"

"Never that I ken."

"Never--never! I kenned he wud come back!" said another voice.

It was Aunt Tibbie, and she took me in her arms. "I believed ye to be
innocent, Sandy; and sae did Rab, and a many more," she said. "But
where ha' ye been?"

"Ye'll no believe me, gin' I tell ye. I don't wonder at that. Ye can't
believe it, mebbe, but I'll tell ye."

"It's naething wrong, Sandy?" said Aunt Tibbie.

"Nae, naething but laziness, an' I couldna help that. I've been
asleep--in a traunce--in a stupor--like a toad in a stane, for a' these
years, an' have come to life this verra day!"

Then I told them all about it; and sic things as traunces--though not,
maybe, to last as long as mine--had been heard o' before, and they could
not but believe it; but they were awa' again to Rab's wedding, frae
which they'd come hame only to fetch a silver cup, that was to drink the
healths o' the bride and bridegroom.

"Auntie! where's my silver mug, that I won at the games at the laird's
hair'st?" I asked.

"Safe put away wi' the chaney, lad, an' noo it's yours again."

"Auntie, wad ye tak it as my gift ta Maggie? and, uncle, will ye gie my
message to Rab, that I'll no' stay here to bring an ill name or
suspicion on him or his; but if he'd come an' gie me his hand before I'm
awa'?--t'will be little to him, and much to me, though I've been true to
him for a whole lifetime--what's gane of it, at least."

So auntie took the silver mug, and they both left me; but not till I had
heard how, twa days after I had gane, David Preece had been to Donald
Miller's cottage an' offered Maggie a necklace o' gaudy beads, and how
Maggie handed them back tae him, though he told her he was to leave
Slievochan next day. Aunt Tibbie heard o' this: and when Maggie told
what was the like o' the bauble, there was a cry for Preece, till it was
heard how Rory Smith hadna' been seen for those three days, and that I
hadna' been found or heard o'.

So, ye ken, it was which o' us should come back first wad be ca'd to
find