Very sad to Allister was his mother’s only half-conscious recognition of him. She knew him, and called him by name; but she spoke, too, of his father and Lewis, not as dead and gone, but as they used to be in the old days when they were all at home together, when Hamish and Shenac were little children. She was content, however, and did not suffer. There were times, too, when she seemed to understand that he had been away, and had come home to care for them all; and she seemed to trust him entirely that “he would be good to Hamish and the rest when she was no more.”
“Folk get used to the most sorrowful things at last,” said Shenac to herself, as, after a time, Allister could turn quietly from the mother, so broken and changed, to renew his playful sallies with his brothers and little Flora. Indeed, it was a new acquaintance that he had to make with them. They had grown quite out of his remembrance, and he was not at all like the brother Allister of their imaginations; but this making friends with one another was a very pleasant business to them all.
He had to renew his acquaintance with others too—with his cousins and the neighbours. He had much to hear and much to tell, and after a while he had much to do too; and through all the sayings and doings, the comings and goings,—of the first few weeks, both Hamish and Shenac watched their brother closely and curiously. Apart from their interest in him as their brother whom they loved, and in whose hands the future of all the rest seemed to lie, they could not but watch him curiously. He was so exactly like the merry, gentle, truthful Allister of old times, and yet so different! He had grown so strong and firm and manly. He knew so many things. He had made up his mind about the world and the people in it, and could tell his mind too.
“Our Allister is a man!” said Shenac, as she sat in the kitchen one night with Shenac Dhu and the rest. The words were made to mean a great deal by the way in which they were spoken, and they all laughed. But her cousin answered the words merely, and not the manner:—
“That is not saying much. Men are poor creatures enough, sometimes.”
“But our Allister is not one of that kind,” said Dan, before his sister had time to answer. “He is a man. He is made to rule. His will must be law wherever he is.”
Dan had probably some private reason for knowing this better than the rest, and Shenac Dhu hinted as much. But Dan took no notice, and went on,—
“You should hear Evan tell about him. Why, he saved the lives of the whole band more than once, by his firmness and wisdom.”
“I have heard our Evan speaking of him,” said Shenac Dhu, her dark eyes softening, as she sat looking into the fire; “but if one is to believe all that Evan says, your Allister is not a man at all, but—don’t be vexed, Dan—an angel out of heaven.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that part of it,” said Dan; “but I know one thing: he’ll be chief of the clan, boss of the shanty, or he’ll know the reason why.—O Shenac, dear, I’m sorry for you; your reign is over, I doubt. You’ll be farmer-in-chief no longer.”