Chapter 31

VARIOUS BODIES CONVERGING ON THE HILL.

It would be coming on for a quarter-past nine, and a misty night,
when I reached the school-house, and I was so weary of mind and
body that I sat down without taking off my bonnet. I had left the
door open, and I remember listlessly watching the wind making a
target of my candle, but never taking a sufficiently big breath to
do more than frighten it. From this lethargy I was roused by the
sound of wheels.

In the daytime our glen road leads to many parts, but in the night
only to the doctor's. Then the gallop of a horse makes farmers
start up in bed and cry, "Who's ill?" I went to my door and
listened to the trap coming swiftly down the lonely glen, but I
could not see it, for there was a trailing scarf of mist between
the school-house and the road. Presently I heard the swish of the
wheels in water, and so learned that they were crossing the ford
to come to me. I had been unstrung by the events of the evening,
and fear at once pressed thick upon me that this might be a sequel
to them, as indeed it was.

While still out of sight the trap stopped, and I heard some one
jump from it. Then came this conversation, as distinct as though
it had been spoken into my ear:

"Can you see the school-house now, McKenzie?"

"I am groping for it, Rintoul. The mist seems to have made off
with the path."

"Where are you, McKenzie? I have lost sight of you."

It was but a ribbon of mist, and as these words were spoken
McKenzie broke through it. I saw him, though to him I was only a
stone at my door.

"I have found the house, Rintoul," he shouted, "and there is a
light in it, so that the fellow has doubtless returned."

"Then wait a moment for me."

"Stay where you are, Rintoul, I entreat you, and leave him to me.
He may recognize you."

"No, no, McKenzie, I am sure he never saw me before. I insist on
accompanying you."

"Your excitement, Rintoul, will betray you. Let me go alone. I can
question him without rousing his suspicions. Remember, she is only
a gypsy to him."

"He will learn nothing from me. I am quite calm now."

"Rintoul, I warn you your manner will betray you, and to-morrow it
will be roared through the countryside that your bride ran away
from the Spittal in a gypsy dress, and had to be brought back by
force."

The altercation may have lasted another minute, but the suddenness
with which I learned Babbie's secret had left my ears incapable of
learning more. I daresay the two men started when they found me at
my door, but they did not remember, as few do remember