"And is that why you are wae? But perhaps there may be no occasion for it, Janet," said Lilias, with a smile. "We saw him in London, and I think he meant to come back."
"Eh, Miss Lilias, that would have been a good hearing; but maybe you do not hear that he has lost his siller, poor lad—some o' thae banks, I suppose," said Janet. "It's a braw thing to have nae siller and nae trouble with the losing o't."
"I think that is a mistake too," said Lilias, her fair face glowing with pleasure. "He has not lost so much as he thought."
"Well, Miss Lilias, no doubt you'll have ways of kennin'. I only judge by his letter, and that was very doun. My heart was wae for him when I read it, and they sailed yesterday. I hope he got his things in time."
"Sailed!—yesterday!" Lilias echoed, with a wondering face.
"And, losh me!" cried Janet, "they say it's away among the cannibals. If they sent the sodgers to shoot them down, I would think nothing o't—for them that feed upon their neighbours' flesh, Lord bless us! they're fit for nothing better—but a fine, peaceable young gentleman, with none of those warlike ways, what would they pit the like of him forrit for, just to fa' a victim——"
"Lilias, it is time we were going home," said Margaret, turning round quickly and surveying the blanched countenance and wondering eyes aghast of her companion.
"Ye are just frichtening the ladies," said Adam; "there's nae mair danger among the cannibals than at hame. They're no cannibal now; do you think that could last, in the face of steam-engines and a' that, and advancin' civileezation and British rule? But the ladies they have mair sense. There's no such things now-a-days. We a' eat ane anither, but it's in a mair modest way."
"I have no more time to speak to you, Adam; but ye'll just take that trout up to the cook; and come away, Lilias—you have walked too far, your face is just the colour of wax," said Margaret, anxiously drawing her sister's arm within her own.
"It is not the walk—did you hear that, Margaret?"