He was on the eve of departing when the builder called him back. He had been turning things over in his mind.
"I hae anither wood-yard doon by Echo Bank," he said. "There's a cubby-hole there you could bide in, gin ye had a blanket."
"That's nocht," answered Cleg, "in this weather. And thank ye kindly. I can do brawly withoot a blanket."
And he sped out as he came, without troubling the maid, who was wearying for her master to be done with his dinner and take himself away to his office.
The good news was conveyed directly to Vara, and then she set Cleg's hut in order with a quieter heart. Cleg showed them where to get water, and it was not long before the bairns were established in a safety and comfort they had been strangers to all their lives.
But Cleg was not done with his day's work for the Kavannahs. He went down to the Hillside Works and saw the watchman, after he had delivered his tale of evening papers.
"D'ye think," he said diplomatically, "that there's ony chance for a lassie to get wark here?"
The watchman shook his head.
"There's nae room for ony but the relations o' them that's workin' here already."
The watchman could be as diplomatic as Cleg. He had daughters of his own growing up, and, though he was willing to be a friend to Cleg, it was against his principles to encourage the introduction into "our works" of alien blood. There was a tradition at Hillside that every old servant got his daughters "in" as a matter of course. Indeed, matrimonial alliances were often arranged on that basis, and the blessing of children was looked upon as equivalent to the supreme blessing of money in the bank.