There were drops of sweat upon his forehead as he galloped ahead. But in a short time he had thrown off all trace of this behavior, and what was in his mind then seemed to be quite forgotten now. His merry tales returned. A beggar we met was well rewarded for his humble plea for alms. So we continued, just as if nothing had happened, as if we had not for a moment been at swords points, almost ready to fight over a question of honor. And in this way we rode till we came into the hills that sheltered the cottage of Meg. “Poor old Meg,” said the patroon gently. “She has been ill since yonder night of Ronald’s death. I must stop and see her.” The cottage of the old woman was a tumble-down affair, with doors and windows all awry, and the thatch hanging loose and all but off in many places. We dismounted and met the dwarf in the doorway. “Hist,” he said, cautioning silence with his raised finger. “Has he come?” asked a feeble voice from inside. “The noise of the horses must have waked her,” explained Louis. “Come in.” We entered the low, desolate looking room. On a pallet in one corner lay Meg of the Hills. The patroon went to her and took her hand with something like affection in his manner. “How is the day with you, my Meg?” “My Meg,” she repeated plaintively. “It is a long time since you have called me that.” “Hist, Meg, not so loud,” said the patroon in a half-whisper. “Why should I hist?” she cried with a tinge of anger in her tone. “Are you ashamed of me?” The patroon made no reply, and in a moment she repeated her question. “Answer me, ye auld jade, be ye ashamed of me?” “Hush, Meg. Don’t fall into that ballad-singing habit of yours. I can stand anything but that.” “You stand! What have you to stand compared to me? It was not always so. I was fair to see in the old days long gone by. Was I not a bonny lass then, Kilian?” “Ay, you were so, Meg; but that is long gone by.” The old woman moaned. She had regular features and may have been a beauty once; but, as the patroon said, it was long ago. How wistfully she must have looked back upon what would never come again. There was a pause, and Meg was the first to break it. “What did you come for?” “To see how you were; to see what I could do for you.” The last word seemed to rouse her evil demon. She sat bolt up in bed and clasped her hands tight together; then she doubled her fists and shook them in his face like a mad woman. “To do what you can for me, you brat of hell. Have you not had half a life for that? What have you done for me? You have kept me, you would say. Ay, you have kept me like the old toothless bitch I am. But you did not keep me where I should have been. And I could have hanged you any time these twenty years. But I loved you. My God, what will not a woman do for the man she loves!” Meg fell back upon the pillow in exhaustion.