To what Malcolm said
she paid no heed, but stood with her child in her arms and gazed
at Kelpie as she went on plunging and kicking about on the top of
the dune.
"I reckon ye wadna care though the she deevil knockit oot yer harns;
but ye ha'e the bairn, woman! Ha'e mercy on the bairn, an' rin
to the boddom."
"I want to speak to ye, Ma'colm MacPhail," she said, in a tone
whose very stillness revealed a depth of trouble.
"I doobt I canna hearken to ye richt the noo," said Malcolm. "But
bide a wee." He swung himself from Kelpie's back, and, hanging hard
on the bit with one hand, searched with the other in the pocket of
his coat, saying, as he did so--"Sugar, Kelpie! sugar!"
The animal gave an eager snort, settled on her feet, and began
snuffing about him. He made haste, for, if her eagerness should
turn to impatience, she would do her endeavour to bite him. After
crunching three or four lumps, she stood pretty quiet, and Malcolm
must make the best of what time she would give him.
"Noo, Lizzy!" he said hurriedly. "Speyk while ye can."
"Ma'colm," said the girl, and looked him full in the face for a
moment, for agony had overcome shame; then her gaze sought the far
horizon, which to seafaring people is as the hills whence cometh
their aid to the people who dwell among mountains; "--Ma'colm,
he's gaein' to merry Leddy Florimel.
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