Kooran jumps up and shakes himself.
“Yes, mother; I must,” is the quiet reply. “I had a strange dream about poor Nancy last night. She has been ill, you know, and I haven’t called for three days.”
“But in such a night, laddie! Listen to the wind! Hear how the snow and the hail are beating on the window!”
Kenneth did listen.
It was indeed a fearful night.
The wind was sighing and crying through every cranny of the window, and shaking the sash; it was howling round the chimney, and wailing through the keyhole of the door.
Snow was sifting in underneath the door, too, and lying along the floor like a stripe of light.
Kenneth drew his plaid closer round him.
“I must go, mother,” he said; “I could not sleep to-night if I didn’t.
“Don’t be uneasy about me even if I don’t return till morning. I may stay all night at Dugald’s.”