Peace and silence cinctured the ancient tower of Lochinvar like the blue circle of the vault of heaven. Kate and Wat were walking the battlements. It was a narrow promenade, but they kept the closer together. From the gable chimneys immediately above them the blue perfumed reek of a peat fire went up straight as a monument. In the kitchen Jean Gordon and her tow-headed servitor, Mall, were preparing the evening meal. There, at the foot of the loch, could be seen Jack Scarlett switching his long fishing-pole, his boat and his figure showing black against the bright lake. Wat shaded his face with his hand and looked under it, for the sun shot his rays slantwise. "What is the matter with old Jack?" he said; "yonder he goes, pulling as hard as he can for the shore. I see two people sitting on a heather-tussock by the landing-place." When Kate had looked once swiftly, she clapped her hands. "'Tis Maisie and Will!" she cried, merrily. "Oh, I wonder if they have brought the babe?" "The babe?" said her husband, "wherefore should they bring the babe, carrying him all the way from Earlstoun?" "I should never let him out of my arms," cried Kate, "if I had such a boy." She stopped somewhat suddenly and changed the subject. "Look," she said, pointing with her finger, "Jack is showing them his fish. It is as well that he seems to have a good, taking in his basket; for, faith! there is little in the house but salted black-faced mutton." Long before the boat could approach near enough to the tower to render conversation possible, Kate and Maisie were crying out unintelligible greetings one to the other, while with his hand on her skirts Will Gordon endeavored to induce his wife to sit down, lest she should overbalance herself and fall out of the boat. Kate ran down the narrow turret stairs to the landing-place, whereupon Wat followed hastily, lest she should throw herself bodily into the water. The boat touched the wooden fenders, and the next moment the two women were in each other's arms. The men shook hands gravely, but said nothing, after their kind. Jack Scarlett took up his string of fish and departed kitchenward without a word, keeping his eyes studiously on the ground. Meanwhile the two women were sobbing quietly and contentedly, each on her friend's shoulder. Then Will Gordon must needs turn and endeavor to cheer them with the eternal masculine tact. "Why, lassies," he said, with loud joviality, "what can there be to cry about now, when everything has fallen out so well after all our troubles?" His wife turned to him fiercely. "You great gaby!" she cried, pointedly, "get into the house and leave us alone. Can you not see we are just glad?" "Yes--glad and happy!" corroborated Kate. "What silly things men be!"