"But by the time Rachel and Jean Bain got me out of that darksome closet I was fairly beside myself. The fever ran high, and I raved about rivers of waters and the sound of great floods, and threeped with them that I saw the Little Fair Man coming on the wings of seraphims and cherubims and lifting me up out of the mire.
"And as soon as Jean Bain heard the yammer and yatter of my foolish running on, she went to the closet for some simple herbs, and put them in a pot over the fire to steam. Then she bade Rachel help me down to the minister's chamber, and between them they undressed me, cutting the sleeve from my coat so as to save the poor wounded arm. They got me finally between the blankets, and made me drink of this herb-tea and that, willy-nilly. For which, as I heard afterwards, I called them 'witch-wives,' 'black crows of a foul nest,' with many other names. But Jean Bain held me by the arm that was whole, while Rachel fleeched with me through her streaming tears; and so in time they gat me to take down the naughty-tasting brew. Nevertheless, in a little it soothed me as a mother's lullaby doth a fractious wean, and in time I fell on a refreshing sleep.
"Yet Rachel would not be comforted, but mourned for me greatly, till Jean Bain told her of the yet sorer case in which she and Donald had but lately been. To which my lass rejoined, proud of her exceedingly recent wifehood! 'Ah, but he is your brother—not your man! I would not care what became of Raif, not if they hanged him on the Gallows hill, and the craws pyked his banes!'
"For she was angry with her brother.
"Then all suddenly Jean Bain set her head between her hands, and began to greet as if her poor heart were near the breaking.
"'He is my man—he is my man!' she cried. "And I wish we were back again in bonny Banff, him a herd-laddie an' me a herd-lassie, and that we could hear again the waves break amang the rocks at Tarlair!
"'Wedded—aye, that are we, firm and staunch,—but Donald daurna let on, or Bishop Sydserf wad turn him awa'. He will hae nae wedded priests amang them that he sets ower his parochins. But, as he says, men kinless and cumberless that are neither feared to stand and fight or mount and ride. It came aboot this gate. When Donald was comin' awa' to get his lear, I was fair broken-hearted. For we had herded lang thegether on the gowden braes, and lain mony a simmer day amang the broom wi' our een on the sheep, but our hearts verra close the yin to the ither. The bishop was o' our clan and country-side, and he made Donald graund offers—siccan fat parishes as there were in the Lawlands—stipend—house and gear—guid faith, he dazzled a' the weel-doin' laddies there-aboot. And Donald gied his word to be a curate, for he was weel-learned, and had been to the schule as mony as four winters, me gangin wi' him, and carryin' his books when I could win clear o' my mither.
"'So since I couldna bide frae him, Donald brocht me here to this cauld, ill, ootland place, where we bide amang fremit and unco folk that hate us. But we were married first and foremost by the minister o' Deer, that was a third cousin o' Donald's aunt's—and a solid man that can keep his tongue safe and siccar ahint his teeth.'
"'But oh—this place that we thocht to be a garden o' a delichts and an orchard o' gowden fruit is hard and unkindly and bare. The gear and plenishin' of this manse are nocht but the heather beds that our ain fingers pu', and the blankets we brocht wi' us. And for meat we hae the fish o' the stream an' the birds that Donald whiles shoots wi' his gun—paitricks and wild ducks on the ponds. For no a penny's worth o' steepend will they pay. And the bishop's warrandice runs nae farther than the range o' the guns o' his bodyguard.'
"So, after this explanation, the two women mourned together as they tended me, and presently the poor curate, Donald Bain, came back to find them thus, and me raving at large, and trying to tear off the bandages from my arm.