Jessie waited to hear no more, but immediately followed Peter, and the small servant Louise followed suit; leaving the widow in a half-fainting condition with the boy. But she did not remain long thus, for just then old Duncan McKay entered by the back-door.
“It will be bad news you’ve been hearin’, Mrs Davidson,” he said, in some surprise, pouring out a glass of water as he spoke, and considerately handing it to the widow.
“Yes—O yes! I’ve just heard that Dan has been shot.”
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the horrified old man, almost falling into a chair. “Iss—iss he tead?”
“No, thank God—only weak from loss of blood. He’ll be here directly.”
“That iss goot news—whatever; for as long as there’s life there’s hope.”
Trying to comfort himself, as well as his friend, with this truism, the old man staggered out of the house in search of those who had gone before.
Soon a sad procession was seen coming up the path, led by Archie. Four men carried Dan on a rudely-extemporised litter. His bloodless face and lips gave him the appearance of death, but the glow in his eyes told of still unexhausted life.
“I’ll be all right, mother,” he said feebly, as they laid him on his bed. “I only want food and rest. Thank God—home at last!”
As he spoke, a quiet step was heard, and Elspie, with a face as pale as his own, knelt by his bedside and took his hand.