But instead Barra betook himself forthwith to France, where he was received into great honor as a consistent favorer of the true king. He was killed at Steenkirk, as was fitting, leading a charge. For though a traitor, Murdo of Barra was a brave man.
[EPILOGUE OF SUPEREROGATION]
BEING CHAPTER FIFTY-FOURTH, AND LAST
Peace and silence cinctured the ancient tower of Lochinvar like the blue circle of the vault of heaven. Kate and Wat were walking the battlements. It was a narrow promenade, but they kept the closer together. From the gable chimneys immediately above them the blue perfumed reek of a peat fire went up straight as a monument. In the kitchen Jean Gordon and her tow-headed servitor, Mall, were preparing the evening meal. There, at the foot of the loch, could be seen Jack Scarlett switching his long fishing-pole, his boat and his figure showing black against the bright lake.
Wat shaded his face with his hand and looked under it, for the sun shot his rays slantwise.
"What is the matter with old Jack?" he said; "yonder he goes, pulling as hard as he can for the shore. I see two people sitting on a heather-tussock by the landing-place."
When Kate had looked once swiftly, she clapped her hands. "'Tis Maisie and Will!" she cried, merrily. "Oh, I wonder if they have brought the babe?"
"The babe?" said her husband, "wherefore should they bring the babe, carrying him all the way from Earlstoun?"
"I should never let him out of my arms," cried Kate, "if I had such a boy."