... Well, he also has moods! It is my trust that he has not
answered to some one's piping that the leaf's not dead! That is the
likeliest thing--that he answered and has gone. I'll ride to Black
Hill to-morrow." The sun set, twilight passed, candles were lighted.
"Have you seen any from White Farm?"
"I walked there from Littlefarm with Robin Greenlaw. Jarvis Barrow was
reading Leviticus, looking like a listener in the Plain of Sinai. They
expected Gilian home from Aberdeen. They say the harvest everywhere is
good."
Alexander asked no further and presently they parted for the night.
The laird of Glenfernie looked from his chamber window, and he looked
toward White Farm. It was dark, clear night, and all the autumn stars
shone like worlds of hope.
The next morning he mounted his horse and went off to Black Hill. He
would get this matter of Ian straight. It was early when he rode, and
he came to Black Hill to find Mr. Touris and his sister yet at the
breakfast-table. Mrs. Alison, who might have been up hours, sat over
against a dour-looking master of the house who sipped his tea and
crumbled his toast and had few good words for anything. But he was
glad and said that he was glad to see Glenfernie.
"Now, maybe, we'll have some light on Ian's doings!"
"I came for light to you, sir."
"Do you mean that he hasn't written you?"
"Only a line that I found waiting for me.
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