And then below us in the valley we saw the shieling, with a thin shaft
of smoke rising into the rainy grey weather. The man left me, sturdily
refusing any fee. "I wantit my legs stretched as weel as you. A walk in
the hills is neither here nor there to a stoot man. When will ye be
back, sir?"
The question was well-timed. "To-morrow fortnight," I said, "and I want
somebody from Allermuir to come out here in the morning and carry some
baggage. Will you see to that?"
He said "Ay," and went off, while I scrambled down the hill to the
cottage. Nervousness possessed me, and though it was broad daylight and
the whole place lay plain before me, I ran pell-mell, and did not stop
till I reached the door.
The place was utterly empty. Unmade beds, unwashed dishes, a hearth
strewn with the ashes of peat, and dust thick on everything, proclaimed
the absence of inmates. I began to be horribly frightened. Had the
shepherd and his sister, also, disappeared? Was I left alone in this
bleak place, with a dozen lonely miles between me and human dwellings? I
could not return alone; better this horrible place than the unknown
perils of the out-of-doors. Hastily I barricaded the door, and to the
best of my power shuttered the windows; and then with dreary forebodings
I sat down to wait on fortune.
In a little I heard a long swinging step outside and the sound of dogs.
Joyfully I opened the latch, and there was the shepherd's grim face
waiting stolidly on what might appear.
At the sight of me he stepped back. "What in the Lord's name are ye
daein' here?" he asked. "Didna ye get enough afor?"
"Come in," I said, sharply. "I want to talk."
In he came with those blessed dogs,--what a comfort it was to look on
their great honest faces! He sat down on the untidy bed and waited.
"I came because I could not stay away. I saw too much to give me any
peace elsewhere. I must go back, even though I risk my life for it. The
cause of scholarship demands it as well as the cause of humanity."
"Is that a' the news ye hae?" he said. "Weel, I've mair to tell ye.
Three weeks syne my sister Margit was lost, and I've never seen her
mair."
My jaw fell, and I could only stare at him.
"I cam hame from the hill at nightfa' and she was gone. I lookit for her
up hill and doun, but I couldna find her. Syne I think I went daft. I
went to the Scarts and huntit them up and doun, but no sign could I see.
The Folk can bide quiet enough when they want. Syne I went to Allermuir
and drank mysel' blind,--me, that's a God-fearing man and a saved soul;
but the Lord help me, I didna ken what I was at. That's my news, and day
and night I wander thae hills, seekin' for what I canna find."
"But, man, are you mad?" I cried. "Surely there are neighbours to help
you. There is a law in the land, and you had only to find the nearest
police-office and compel them to assist you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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