He must have been wrecked somewhere, but had she not prayed night and day for him? Yes, he was safe—must be. Heaven would protect him. Prayers are heard, and he would return safe and sound, to defy his enemies and his slanderers as well.
Fletcher had been received back into favour. Somewhat penurious he was known to be, but so kind and gentle a man as he could never kill. Had she not seen him remove a worm from the garden path lest it might be trodden upon by some incautious foot?
He kept her hopes up, too, and assured her that he believed as she did, that all would come right in the end. If everybody else believed that the Wolverine was a doomed ship, poor Annie didn’t.
There came many visitors to the Hall, young and middle-aged, and more than one made love to Annie. She turned a deaf ear to all. But now an event occurred that for a time banished some of the gloom that hung around Bilberry Hall.
About two months before this, one morning, after old Laird McLeod had had breakfast, Shufflin’ Sandie begged for an audience.
“Most certainly,” said McLeod. “Show the honest fellow in.”
So in marched Sandie, bonnet in hand, and determined on this occasion to speak the very best English he could muster.
“Well, Sandie?”
“Well, Laird. I think if a man has to break the ice, he’d better do it at once and have done with it. Eh? What think you?”
“That’s right, Sandie.”