“No; he couldn’t get in. He was only looking in, and thinking how he _should_ like to eat her. So in the morning she told her father. And her father was very frightened, and told her she must never be out one moment after the sun was down. And for a long time the girl was very careful. And she had need to be; for the creature never made any noise, but came up as quiet as a shadow. One afternoon, however, she had gone to meet her lover a little way down the glen; and they stopped talking so long, about one thing and another, that the sun was almost set before she bethought herself. She said good-night at once, and ran for home. Now she could not reach home without passing the pot, and just as she passed the pot, she saw the last sparkle of the sun as he went down.” “I should think she ran!” remarked our mouthpiece, Allister. “She did run,” said Kirsty, “and had just got past the awful black pot, which was terrible enough day or night without such a beast in it, when--” “But there _was_ the beast in it,” said Allister. “When,” Kirsty went on without heeding him, “she heard a great _whish_ of water behind her. That was the water tumbling off the beast’s back as he came up from the bottom. If she ran before, she flew now. And the worst of it was that she couldn’t hear him behind her, so as to tell whereabouts he was. He might be just opening his mouth to take her every moment. At last she reached the door, which her father, who had gone out to look for her, had set wide open that she might run in at once; but all the breath was out of her body, and she fell down flat just as she got inside.” [Illustration] Here Allister jumped from his seat, clapping his hands and crying-- “Then the kelpie didn’t eat her!--Kirsty! Kirsty!” “No. But as she fell, one foot was left outside the threshold, so that the rowan branch could not take care of it. And the beast laid hold of the foot with his great mouth, to drag her out of the cottage and eat her at his leisure.” Here Allister’s face was a picture to behold! His hair was almost standing on end, his mouth was open, and his face as white as my paper. “Make haste, Kirsty,” said Turkey, “or Allister will go in a fit.” “But her shoe came off in his mouth, and she drew in her foot and was safe.” Allister’s hair subsided. He drew a deep breath, and sat down again. But Turkey must have been a very wise or a very unimaginative Turkey, for here he broke in with-- “I don’t believe a word of it, Kirsty.” “What!” said Kirsty--“don’t believe it!” “No. She lost her shoe in the mud. It was some wild duck she heard in the pot, and there was no beast after her. She never saw it, you know.” “She saw it look in at her window.” “Yes, yes. That was in the middle of the night. I’ve seen as much myself when I waked up in the middle of the night. I took a rat for a tiger once.” Kirsty was looking angry, and her needles were going even faster than when she approached the climax of the shoe.