Her step on the verge of the precipice
was firm as that of the wild goat. Her eye, in that state of
excitation, was so keen as to discern, even amid darkness, the
perils which noon would not have enabled a stranger to avoid.
Elspat's course was not directly forward, else she had soon been
far from the bothy in which she had left her son. It was
circuitous, for that hut was the centre to which her heartstrings
were chained, and though she wandered around it, she felt it
impossible to leave the vicinity. With the first beams of
morning she returned to the hut. Awhile she paused at the
wattled door, as if ashamed that lingering fondness should have
brought her back to the spot which she had left with the purpose
of never returning; but there was yet more of fear and anxiety in
her hesitation--of anxiety, lest her fair-haired son had suffered
from the effects of her potion--of fear, lest his enemies had
come upon him in the night. She opened the door of the hut
gently, and entered with noiseless step. Exhausted with his
sorrow and anxiety, and not entirely relieved perhaps from the
influence of the powerful opiate, Hamish Bean again slept the
stern, sound sleep by which the Indians are said to be overcome
during the interval of their torments.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300