The Bairn of Brianag

"You're welcome to stay and have your relatives join you here," the elder was saying. "I would not have you waylaid because I have denied you hospitality."

"No, indeed sir," said Robbie, his face calm and smiling. "My servant will go ahead to the next village and find someone to run ahead with a message. The McDonald clan is easy to find. I feel confident that some will join us as early as tomorrow. We shall reach Fort Christopher tonight, and stay there until they arrive."

I felt less afraid after hearing this, and in the wagon, I said to Rabbit, "There, you see? Master Robbie will protect us; he knows what to do," to console myself as much as her.

Robbie drove the wagon that day, as Pete had gone ahead on his horse. I looked up at the back of him, his shoulders wide in his linen shirt, his hair tied into its queue, and I wanted him so badly that tears filled my eyes. I lay down upon my blanket again, weeping into my arm, my heart aching, smothering my sobs so that Robbie would not hear me, until I fell asleep.

When I woke later we had entered the pine wood. Though there was no breeze the air seemed cooler. After we stopped to eat, Robbie said, "Won't you sit up on the seat beside me, lass. It will be a change for you." Indeed it was a relief to sit up with my feet on the floor, though there was no back for me to lean against.

We drove along silently for a while, the coolness of the woods a balm after the heat of the open fields.

"My banjo is under the seat there," he said after a while; "fetch it forth for me, lass." I pulled out the case that held the banjo. "Here," he said, "you take the team."

As we rolled along in the pleasant air of the woods, Robbie strummed and plucked his banjo. I remembered going fishing last summer, with my brothers and Cathy and August, on a day like this one. Robbie had played his banjo and sang ridiculous songs and we had laughed until tears came. My tears welled again and spilled over. I wiped them on my sleeve. Robbie stopped plucking the banjo and took my hand.

"Ah, lass; do not weep. All will be well," he said.

I leaned against him, and he put his arm around me. I could not speak, could not tell him of my grief at leaving Brianag; what would be the use? There was nothing that could be done. I must simply endure it.