The herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1893-1900, 1898-01-06

wrath, that, i'll as he was, he would
have risen and ridden or driven over
to Kilbrennan had he known Morag
had gone there.
Angus McCallum, Gorromalt's chief
man, was with the horse in the stable.
He tried to prevent Morag taking out
Gealcas, the mare-she that went fast
er and surer than any there. He even
put hand upon the lass and said a
rough word. But she laughed, I am
| told; and think that whoever heard
Morag laugh, when she was strange"
| for all that she was so white and soft,
she with her hair O. sunlight and the
blue, blue eyes O. her-whoever heard
that, would not be for standing in her
way.
So Angus had stood back, sullenly
giving her help, but no longer daring
to interfere. She mounted Gealcas.
and rode away into the dark, rainy
night, where the wind went Looping to
and fro among the crags on the braes
as though it were mad with fear or
pain and complaining wild, wild-the
lamentable cry of the hills.
Hour after hour we sat there. We
could hear the roaring sound of Gorro-
malt water as it whirled itself over the
linn. The stream was in spate. and
would be boiling black, with livid clots
of foam flung every here and there on
the dripping heather overhanging the
torrent. The winds endless sough
came into the house, and walled in the
keyholes and the chinks. Rory, the
blind collie, lay on mat near the door,
and the long hair of his fell was blown
upward and this way and that by the
ground-draught.
Once or twice Aunt Elspeth rose,
and stirred the porridge that seethed
and dubbed in the pot. Her husband
took no notice. He was in daze. and
sat in his f1anked leathern arm chair,
with his arms laid along the sides, and
his down-clasping hands catching the
red CLEAN of the peats, and his face
white and set, like that of dead man
looking out of grated prison.
Once or twice, an hour or so before,
when she had begun to Groom some
hymn, he had harshly checked her.
But now when she hummed and at last
openly sang the Gaelic version of 1.-THE
Lords My Shepherd" he paid no heed
He was not hearing that, or anything
she did He brooded doubt not, upon
man, who had wrought him this evil.
His wife saw this and so had her
will at last. She took down the great
Gaelic Bible. and read Christ's words
about little children. The rain slashed
against the window panes; outside the
wind moaned and soughed and moaned
From the kennel behind the byre a
mournful howl rose and fell. But Cor
romalt did not stir.
Aunt Elspeth looked at me despair
ingly. Poor old woman-ah, the misery
and pain of 1t, the WEAKNESS and long
pain Of starved hearts and barren
hope!
Suddenly an idea came to her. She
rose again and went over to the fire.
Twice she passed in front of her hus-
band. He made no sign.
HE hates those things" she NUT
tered to me, her eyes wet with pain
and with something of shame, too, for
admitting that she believed in incanta-
tions-and why not, poor old woman
sure there are stranger things than
sean or rosad, charm or spell; and
who can say that the secret old wisdom
Is mere thought O. thought?
"He hates those things, but am for
saving my poor lass, if 1 can. I will
be saying that old ancient eolas, that
is called that Eolas an t-Snaithnean."
''What is that Aunt Elspeth? What
are the three threads?"