'Dear laddie,' she said, when she heard he was bound for the hills, 'I hope nae ill will come over ye; but I wot I had an unco' ugly dream last night. Put your trust in Providence, laddie. And ye winna forget to say your prayers, will ye?'
'That we won't, mother. Ta, ta!'
Moncrieff saw Dugald to his own gate. With them went Wolf, the largest bloodhound-mastiff.
'Dreams,' said Moncrieff, 'may be neither here nor there; but you'll be none the worse for taking Wolf.'
'Thank you,' said Dugald; 'he shall come, and welcome.'
The sun had quite set before they reached the ruin, but there was a beautiful after-glow in the west—a golden haze beneath, with a kind of crimson blush over it higher up. When they were on a level with the ruin, the two windows of which, as already stated, were opposite to each other, Archie said, musingly,
'Look, Dugald, what a strange and beautiful light is streaming through the windows!'
'Yes,' replied Dugald, 'but there is something solemn, even ghostly, about it. Don't you think so?'
'True; there always is something ghostly about an empty ruin, I think. Are you superstitious?'
'No; but—see. What was that? Why, there is some one there! Look to your rifle, Archie. It was an Indian, I am certain.'