She had scarcely finished speaking when Robert, her son, entered, followed by Steenie.
Great was the astonishment of Bessie. She embraced her son and warmly pressed the hand of his companion. She piled high the hearth-fire and heaped the table with plenty. But she could not bring herself to ask what had brought them there. She feared it might be to say good-by before facing known danger.
The hungry men made inroads on the cakes and cheese; and well they might.
"Oh, my bairn," sad the glad, sad mother, "when will ye daily sit at this table and pass your evenings at your ain hearthstane?"
"When I am let, mother."
"I must take a look at the beasts," said Robert, when the meal was finished.
His mother, unwilling to lose one precious moment of her son's stay, went with him to the byre. Robert's anger was kindled to find that the sheep had all been driven away, and only one cow out of three was left.
But he had other thoughts in his mind, and he spoke of me, of Effie Patterson.
"It is no a time to marry, or to be gien in marriage," said his mother, "and I would leifer ye would bring nae mair care on yoursel while these times last."
"What you say is o'er true, mother; but one canna always keep down his heart. It is one of the hardest features of this troubled time that a man has no power to shield and protect his own household. But for all that, I would fain call Effie mine. If I am slain by the enemy, you must tell her that naught but the fear of adding to the dangers which now beset her path has kept me from declaring my love for her and asking her hand in marriage. And, mother, Steenie's heart is bound up in the lass Janet. He cannot hide his sympathy for her in this her time of bereavement. It is that that has brought us here the morn. He would fain tell her he sorrows for her sake. You did well to take her in; it is like you, mother; only you must not care more for her than you care for Effie."