A Daughter of Fife

"Gane!"

"Ay; when your brother Davie cam' here, mair than a year syne, he just bid

her pack her kist, and he and Troll Winans took her at daylight next morn

to whar' she cam' frae. Elder Mackelvine made a grand exhort in the next

meeting anent slandering folks; for Janet Caird was a gude text for it;

and Kirsty Buchan said, it was a' the gude Pittenloch e'er got oot o'

her."

"David was here then?"

"Ay, he was here. Didna ye ken that?"

"Was there ony ither body here?"

"Ay, there was. A week syne here comes that bonnie young Allan Campbell

that was aye sae fond o' your brither Davie."

"Did he stay here wi' you?"

"Ay, for sure he did. For three days he stayed; and he just daundered

roun' the boats and the beach, and lookit sae forlorn, wanting Davie and

the bonnie boat that had gane to the bottom, that folks were sorry for

him. He gied Elder Mackelvine twenty pounds for the widows o' Pittenloch,

and he gied me mysel' a five pound note; and I could hae kissed the vera

footmarks he made, he was that kindly and sorrowfu'."

"Did he name my name, Mysie?"

"Ay, he did that. He sat in Davie's chair every night, and talked to me

anent you a' the time maistly; and he said, 'Mysie, she'll maybe come back

some day; and if ever she does, you'll tell her I was here, and that I

missed her sairly; and he left a bit of paper for you wi' me. I'll get it

for you, when we hae had our breakfast."

"Get it the noo, Mysie. I'm fain to see it; and I dinna want my breakfast

much--and shut the door, and run the bolt in, Mysie; I'm no caring to see

folk."

It was one of those letters which we have forgotten how to write--large

letter cap, folded within itself, and sealed with scarlet wax. It was,

"Dearest Maggie! Sweetest Maggie! Best beloved of women!" It was full of

tenderness, and trust, and sorrow, and undying affection. Maggie's tears

washed it like a shower of rain. Maggie's kisses sealed every promise, and

returned to the writer ten-fold every word of its passionate mournful

devotion.

She did not now regret her journey. Oh, she would most gladly have walked

every mile of the way, to have found that letter at the end of it. "He'll

come back here," she thought; "love will bring him back, and I know by

myself how glad he will be to hae a word from me." In the drawer of the

table in Allan's room there was some paper and wax. Allan's letter had

been written with his pocket pencil, but she found among David's old

papers the remains of several pencils, and with some little difficulty she

made them sufficiently sharp to express what she wished to say.