The further he went the more hopeless he grew; he was wet to the skin, every bone in his body ached, and no sign of a track was to be found. It seemed to him that he was the only living creature in this vast solitude, and his delight was unbounded when at length, through the driving rain and mist, he caught sight of a figure approaching him. A collie sprang forward and barked, and was called back by its master, a tall, manly figure with a crook in his hand, and under his arm an ugly little black lamb, He seemed not unlike a picture of the Good Shepherd, and Ralph instantly felt confidence in the clear, kindly eyes which looked out at him in a friendly fashion from beneath the Scotch bonnet; there was something noble and winning in this dark-bearded Highlander. “Can you put me into the track for Dalnacardoch?” asked Ralph, as he returned the shepherd’s greeting. “I have lost my way in the mist.” CHAPTER XV “Through ways unlooked for, and through many lands, Far from the rich folds built with human hands, The gracious footprints of His love I trace.” Lowell. |Angus Linklater was in no danger of mistaking the traveller for a Brownie; one of his long, keen glances told him much of the truth about Ralph, for he had the rare gift of insight and his kindly heart warmed to the tired wayfarer. He at once protested that it was out of the question to go on in such weather to Dalnacardoch, and invited Ralph to take shelter in his cottage, which was but a few minutes’ walk. Ralph hesitated for a moment. The rain streamed down his face and neck, his boots felt like a couple of reservoirs, and the thought of shelter was very tempting. “I will tell you just how it is with me,” he said; “I have but a few pence left and must reach Stirling before I have a chance of getting my letters and further supplies. I think I must press on, for there is no time to be lost.” “Put ony thought o’ troublin’ us oot o’ your head, sir,” said Angus, instantly reading his companion’s thoughts, and beginning to walk on beside him. “The hame is just a but and a ben, and you’re kindly welcome to a’ that we can gie you in the way o’ food and shelter for the night.” “You are very good,” said Ralph. “If you can conveniently take me in I shall be thankful. But don’t be putting yourselves out for me. When I tell you that I slept last night in the ruins of the old castle at Kingussie, and in a hay-cart near Grantown the night before, you will see that to be under a roof at all will be a luxury to me.” He laughed. The shepherd gave him another of those sympathetic, discerning looks. “You have had trouble I see,” he said. “But I’m thinkin’ that you’re meetin’ it in the right way.” “Oh,” said Ralph lightly, “I’m just an actor out of work. For several weeks we have had plenty to do and no money; now we have neither money nor work, and I am hoping to get into another company.”