“Preserve us all!” cried Michael; “the water-kelpie, sure enough! Mercy on us, what a fearful red beard! what terrible fiery eyes! For the love of heaven, Sir Knight, let him down again!”
“Coward!” cried Patrick, “if you let go the rope, I’ll massacre thee! Now, do you hear? pull the creel well out this way.—Ha, that will do!—Now I think it is safe.”
“Oh, may the blessed saints reward thee!” said a little shred of a man, who now arose, shaking in a palsy of cold and wet, from the midst of at least a dozen large salmon, with which the creel was heaped up; “Thou hast saved me from the most dreadful of deaths.”
“How camest thou there?” demanded Patrick Stewart; “answer quickly, for we are in haste.”
“Oh, I know not well how I got there,” said the little man, shivering so that he could hardly speak. “I stept aside from the path, just to take a look down to see if there were any salmon in the creel, when something took my foot, and over I went. Oh, what a providence it was that ye came by! Another hour, and I must have been dead from cold and wet, and buried in salmon, for they were flying in upon me like so many swallows. I thought they would have choked me.”
“Here,” said Patrick Stewart, taking out a flask, “take a sup of this cordial; it will speedily restore thee.”
“Oh, blessings on thee, Sir Knight!” said the little man; “I will drink thy health with good will. But tell me thy name, I pray thee, that I may know, and never forget, who it was that saved my life.”
“I am Patrick Stewart of Clan-Allan,” replied the knight carelessly. “Come now, Michael, we must tarry here no longer.”
“Sure I am that I shall never forget the name of Sir Patrick Stewart,” said the little man, whilst he was following them along the narrow path, as they retraced it towards the place where they had left the Lady Catherine; “and if ever I can do thee a good turn I shall do it, though it were by the sacrifice of my life.”
Catherine’s fears were soon allayed by the explanation that was given her. She was again put into the litter, which was quickly shouldered by her protectors, the little man lending them a willing helping hand; and Patrick and Michael proceeded on their way, whilst the half-drowned wretch went up the glen, pouring out blessings upon them. Without fear or interruption they now passed by the spot which had occasioned them so much dread and delay, and they soon left the roar of the lynn behind them, and at length reached the ravine of Cuachan Searceag, where, much to their relief, they found the whole of the party anxiously waiting for them. When the Forbeses beheld Patrick Stewart, and, above all, when they beheld their young mistress, the daughter of their Chief, safe and well among them, they rent the air with shouts of joy that made the whole glen ring again.