"Surely you dinna expect me to drive, Captain Gordon!" I exclaimed. "Why, I never held a pair of reins in my life!"
"All right, my lad! get over to larboard there, and I'll see what we can do. You can be pilot and give your orders, and I'll take the helm.
"Come along, Sheltie; off we go!"
The weather was very fine, the roads in good condition, and the pony fresh, so that we looked for a very pleasant drive to the capital. We drove along the north road by Hamla Voe and past the green cornfields of Cairston, and then over the hill until the great loch of Stenness stretched before us, reflecting on its surface the dappled, woolly clouds.
When we reached the Bridge of Waithe and turned westward, I asked my companion to slacken pace, for I had seen on the white road in advance of us two figures that were familiar to me.
"Who are they, Halcro?" Mr. Gordon inquired; "two of your school friends, eh?"
"Yes," I replied. "The lassie walking on the grass with the bare feet and carrying a green bag is Hilda Paterson--Jack Paterson's daughter."
"Ay! Jack Paterson's girl, eh? Well, and the other one with the pretty hair, walking along here like a stately young princess, who is she?"
We were already close to the two girls, however, and I hesitated to reply. He drew the reins, and I saw him regarding the elder girl with great interest.
She raised her blue eyes as we stopped--eyes as blue and clear as the sky itself. Her fair hair hung in waves about her shoulders, and as her rosy lips were parted to say, "Good morning, Halcro!" they revealed a row of white and regular teeth.