'Puir laddie!' said Meg sympathetically. 'There was sic an unco carfuffle that I had clean forgot the vivers.' Then, preparing to descend from the pillion, she proposed that they should get down and walk so as to ease the mare up the fell. Si, highly approving her thoughtfulness, jumped down and led the mare with bridle drawn over her head through the flows and mosses above the Deadwater of Tyne. 'Ye can almost see my bit biggin',' said Si, as he halted and pointed eastward of Larriston Fell to a patch of black peat and heather high on the rolling moorland. ''Tis gey ootbye,' said Meg; 'clean aff the map a'thegither.' 'It's caad whiles outside i' the wunter,' admitted Si, 'yet i' the but wi' aad Maud the collie an' her litter, Dand the shepherd, an' Sall his wife about the blazing peats on the hearth ye'll be warmer an' cosier than the Queen of Scotland.' 'There wull be a muckle ghaists aboot?' inquired Meg, as she gazed anxiously upon the wild expanse of moor, grasslands, and bog that stretched away, boundless as the sea, to an infinite horizon. 'There's nowt but the "wee grey man" o' the moor,' replied Si unconcernedly; 'there's no harm in him; he will whiles even help up a "cassen" yowe (ewe). Not but what there's the "Bargeist"--he's mestitched, yet red thread i' your mutch and a branch o' the rowan tree will keep him awa nicelies. And Dand kens fine how to fettle him whether by day or night-- "Rowan tree and red thread gar the witches come ill speed." 'Mount again now, my lass,' he added, 'for we ha' crossed the water o' North Tyne, and will win home to the "Bower" cheeks by the gloaming.' As the good mare pressed on unweariedly bridegroom and bride rode up to the 'yett' of 'the Bower' in the late twilight. On hearing the mare's shoes ring on the cobbles beside the gate the old shepherd, who had evidently been waiting, expectant of his master's return, came hirpling out in haste. Then seeing the strange figure seated behind his master he stood stock still in astonishment. 'Whatten's this gear ye ha' lifted the noo?' he finally inquired, when he had found his voice. ''Tis a wife I ha' lifted from Hawick town,' cried Si gaily, as he leapt from his mare, overjoyed to be at home again. ''Twould be i' the dark then?' suggested Dand, his eye fascinated by the 'muckle mouth,' 'or belike in an ower great haste ye lifted the first "yowe" (ewe) ye cam' across?' ''Twas in broad daylight,' retorted Si, catching him a friendly buffet on the shoulder. 'Ye would ne'er ha' seen your master again had it no' been for Meg,' and as he helped her down he briefly narrated his adventure. 'Aweel,' commented Dand to himself, shaking his head the while, as he led the mare to the byre, 'I'm nane so sure but I would ha' juist pit up wi' the hangin'.' Then he added aloud, 'The wife will be sair vext when she sees the Scots heifer ye ha' ridden back wi'.'