"Whose hands, child? Who's doing all this to him?"
"They stan' aboot the corners o' the streets, mem, in muckle toons, and they catch a haud o' young laads, and they trail them awa' wi' them, and they jist torment the life oot o' them. They say they're women; but I dinna believe that. It's no possible. They maun be men dressed up in women's claes."
Was it a great relief to the mother's heart to find that the childish understanding of Isie had misinterpreted and misrepresented? She rose and left the room, and her troubled step went to and fro overhead. And the spirit of Annie was troubled likewise. How much she understood, I cannot determine; but I believe that a sense of vague horror and pity overwhelmed her heart. Yet the strength of her kindness forced her to pay some attention to the innocent little messenger of evil.
"Whaur heard ye a' that, Isie, dear?"
"I heard my father and my mither gaein' on lamentin' ower him efter I was i' my bed, and they thocht I was asleep. But gin Mistress Forbes winna tak' him awa', I'll gang and tell a' the ministers in Glamerton, and see whether they winna raise the toon."
Annie stared in amazement at the wee blue-eyed wizened creature before her speaking with the decision of a minor prophet.
"Is the child here still?" said Mrs Forbes with some asperity as she re-entered the room. "I must go by the mail this afternoon, Annie."
"That's richt, mem," said Isie. "The suner the better, I'm sure. He mayna be deid yet."
"What a very odd child!" said Mrs Forbes.
"Wouldn't it be better to write first, ma'am?" suggested Annie.