"It is said so. Of course he was a very devout man, and every morning and evening he knelt down at the water's edge and said his prayers. But, the tale goes, the water fairies used to rise up and mock at him, and having been a keen fisherman before he turned hermit, he found the rising trout and salmon too much for his peace of mind. They mixed up too much with his prayers."
"'I have made a mistake,' he said. 'I am too close to the earth, too low down—too far from heaven.' So he moved his hut to the top of the glen, just in the thicket where Miss Falconer's cottage now stands. But the high road over the moor passed too close to him. He was annoyed by the drovers driving their cattle to market. He heard their bad language. 'Too close to wickedness,' he sighed. He finally climbed a very thick beech tree, and up there made another home for himself."
"'The birds will not disturb me,' he assured himself; 'they live too near heaven.'"
"But a storm came one night and, the legend goes, not only swept him out of his tree, but swept him from the top of the glen to the bottom, and when he woke to consciousness, it was to find himself with a broken back lying by the edge of the loch once again."
"'Ah!' he breathed, just as he was dying, 'I am afraid I have been mistaken. Close to the earth I was born; close to the earth I die. Close to the earth I was meant to live. I tried to change my atmosphere too soon. It was before my Maker's time!'"
"What a good moral!" said Rowena delightedly. "I shall certainly put that legend in my book."
Macdonald got up to go. She looked up at him with her laughing eyes.
"'Close to the earth you are meant to live,'" she quoted. "The Frasers consider you a hermit already. And I am glad that you have such an unsaintly little daughter! She will keep you in your right atmosphere."
He smiled gravely as he walked away. And Rowena's eyes softened as she looked after him.
"I hope he won't become too saintly to enjoy a talk with a sinner like myself," she murmured.