"I am going to see presently if I can walk as far as the keep. In two or three days I shall ride. There are things that I shall know when I get to Edinburgh. He would take, if he could, the ship that would land him at the door of France."
CHAPTER XXIII
Alexander rode across the moors to the glen head. Two or three solitary farers that he met gave him eager good day.
"Are ye getting sae weel, laird? I am glad o' that!"
"Good day, Mr. Jardine! I rejoice to see you recovered. Well, they hung more of them yesterday!"
"Gude day, Glenfernie! It's a bonny morn, and sweet to be living!"
At noon he looked down on the Kelpie's Pool. The air was sweet and fine, bird sounds came from the purple heather. The great blue arch of the sky smiled; even the pool, reflecting day, seemed to have forgotten cold and dread. But for Glenfernie a dull, cold, sick horror overspread the place. He and Black Alan stood still upon the moor brow. Large against the long, clean, horizon sweep, they looked the sun-bathed, stone figures of horse and man, set there long ago, guarding the moor, giving warning of the kelpie.
"None has been found to warn. There is none but the kelpie waits for.... But punish—punish!"