“That’s very ungrateful of you, Jamie,” I said, full of my own importance, “when I’ve come so far, and all at night too, to set you free.” “I’m free enough,” said Jamie. “I had a better supper a great deal than I should have had at home. I don’t want to go before the morning.” And he began to whimper again. “Do you call this free?” I said, holding up his wrist where the remnant of the cord was hanging. “Oh!” said Jamie, “that’s only--” But ere he got farther the moonlight in the loft was darkened. I looked hurriedly towards the door. There stood the strangest figure, with the moon behind it. I thought at first it was the Kelpie come after me, for it was a tall woman. My heart gave a great jump up, but I swallowed it down. I would not disgrace myself before Jamie. It was not the Kelpie, however, but the keeper’s sister, the great, grim, gaunt woman I had seen at the table at supper. I will not attempt to describe her appearance. It was peculiar enough, for she had just got out of bed and thrown an old shawl about her. She was not pleasant to look at. I had myself raised the apparition, for, as Jamie explained to me afterwards, the cord which was tied to his wrist, instead of being meant to keep him a prisoner, was a device of her kindness to keep him from being too frightened. The other end had been tied to her wrist, that if anything happened he might pull her, and then she would come to him. [Illustration] “What’s the matter, Jamie Duff?” she said in a gruff voice as she advanced along the stream of moonlight. I stood up as bravely as I could. “It’s only me, Miss Adam,” I said. “And who are you?” she returned. “Ranald Bannerman,” I answered. “Oh!” she said in a puzzled tone. “What are you doing here at this time of the night?” “I came to take Jamie home, but he won’t go.” “You’re a silly boy to think my brother John would do him any harm,” she returned. “You’re comfortable enough, aren’t you, Jamie Duff?” “Yes, thank you, ma’am, quite comfortable,” said Jamie, who was now wide-awake. “But, please ma’am, Ranald didn’t mean any harm.” “He’s a housebreaker, though,” she rejoined with a grim chuckle; “and he’d better go home again as fast as he can. If John Adam should come out, I don’t exactly know what might happen. Or perhaps he’d like to stop and keep you company.” “No, thank you, Miss Adam,” I said. “I will go home.” “Come along, then, and let me shut the door after you.” Somewhat nettled with Jamie Duff’s indifference to my well-meant exertions on his behalf, I followed her without even bidding him good night. “Oh, you’ve got Missy, have you?” she said, spying her where she stood. “Would you like a drink of milk or a piece of oatcake before you go?” “No, thank you,” I said. “I shall be glad to go to bed.” “I should think so,” she answered. “Jamie is quite comfortable, I assure you; and I’ll take care he’s in time for school in the morning. There’s no harm in _him_, poor thing!”