A short distance from the place where Thora left me, I came to the
ruined cottage of Inganess. As I approached I heard a click-clicking
noise, by which I surmised there was some person within the ruined
walls. A dog came out to meet me at the door, wagging its tail in
welcome. It was the very counterpart of my own dead Selta, and I
knew well whom to expect in the cottage even before I entered.
Seated on the floor under shelter of a part of the roof that had
not fallen in, was an old man, with locks of silver hair appearing
under his blue bonnet, and hanging with a curl about his neck. The
clicking sound I had heard proceeded from a flint and the back of a
knife, with which the old man was endeavouring to strike a light to
kindle the little pile of faded heather that lay in a corner. When
I looked in he raised his eyes and said with surprise:
"Ah! Halcro, lad. Travelling on a day like this? Why, ye're as wet
as myself. But come in, come in here. It's a poor house; but ye're
real welcome. And where's your dog?"
I was downcast at this question, for it was this same old man
before me--this Colin Lothian, the wandering beggar--who had given
Selta to me, and the dog that was with him was Selta's brother.
"Colin," I asked, when I had told him of my dog's death, "why is it
you come to this poor place for shelter when every house in the
Mainland is open to you? Why do you not go to my uncle's at
Lyndardy?"
"Weel, ye see, lad, I dinna mind where I gang.
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