“Yes, thank you, ma’am, quite comfortable,” said Jamie, who was now wide-awake. “But, please ma’am, Ranald didn’t mean any harm.”
“He’s a housebreaker, though,” she rejoined with a grim chuckle; “and he’d better go home again as fast as he can. If John Adam should come out, I don’t exactly know what might happen. Or perhaps he’d like to stop and keep you company.”
“No, thank you, Miss Adam,” I said. “I will go home.”
“Come along, then, and let me shut the door after you.”
Somewhat nettled with Jamie Duff’s indifference to my well-meant exertions on his behalf, I followed her without even bidding him good night.
“Oh, you’ve got Missy, have you?” she said, spying her where she stood. “Would you like a drink of milk or a piece of oatcake before you go?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I shall be glad to go to bed.”
“I should think so,” she answered. “Jamie is quite comfortable, I assure you; and I’ll take care he’s in time for school in the morning. There’s no harm in him, poor thing!”
She undid the bridle for me, helped me to mount in the kindest way, bade me good night, and stood looking after me till I was some distance off. I went home at a good gallop, took off the saddle and bridle and laid them in a cart in the shed, turned Missy loose into the stable, shut the door, and ran across the field to the manse, desiring nothing but bed.
When I came near the house from the back, I saw a figure entering the gate from the front. It was in the full light of the moon, which was now up a good way. Before it had reached the door I had got behind the next corner, and peeping round saw that my first impression was correct: it was the Kelpie. She entered, and closed the door behind her very softly. Afraid of being locked out, a danger which had scarcely occurred to me before, I hastened after her; but finding the door already fast, I called through the keyhole. She gave a cry of alarm, but presently opened the door, looking pale and frightened.