And then she made up a bed upon the hay, wi' a good warm
plaid to wrap mysel' in. 'See there, now, Colin,' says she. 'Rest
ye here, and I'll let ye out before my father rises i' the
mornin'.' Now wasna that kindness for ye, Halcro?"
"Ay, Colin, that was just like wee Thora."
Whilst Colin was telling me these things I was busy trying to
kindle the fire; but try as I would, it could not be done.
"Oh, never mind the fire, Colin!" I said. "Just come along wi' me
to my uncle's farm at Lyndardy. Ye'll get good shelter and food
there. That's far better than staying in this ruined place."
So the old man got up on his feet, and we walked together to the
farm.
My sister Jessie, who frequently came up to Lyndardy to stay over
the Sabbath, was in the kitchen when we arrived, and while we were
drying our clothes before the fire she got some good warm broth
ready for us, and some new-made scones.
Over our meal I told Jessie of my adventure with the otter, and the
death of my dog. She wanted to dress my ankle again, but Thora had
bound it up so skilfully that there was nothing more to be done.
"I wonder that the otter should bite you like that, Halcro," Jessie
said. "Why, I thought the old viking's stone was to save ye frae
the like o' that!"
I had myself wondered at the same circumstance.
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