In one corner was a pile of skins; Macdonald lifted these and brought out from under them two goblets of pure gold.
As he raised them he looked at the woman; she showed through the cloudy smoke brown and gold and brilliant; her hair was as vivid as the little tongues of flame she held her hands over.
“From the Campbells,” he said, putting the goblets down, “and this from the King—in France.”
He brought out a slender bottle of wine and stripped off the wicker covering.
“We keep these things hidden here,” he explained, “so that when any cannot reach the Glen they may find food.”
He turned over the skins and heather till he found a rough cake of grain. Helen Fraser rose and came up behind him.
“Are these your takings from the Campbells?” she asked, and picked the goblets up. They were very handsomely engraved with the arms of John Campbell, Earl of Breadalbane.
Macdonald lifted the glittering wine with an eager smile.
“We drink as royally as Jock Campbell with his Lowland luxuries,” he cried. “This is King’s wine.”
She held out one of the goblets while he filled it and let the other drop.