"
"Yes, I see it...."
"Tell me if you see its port."
"Yes, I see."
"Describe it--the houses, the country, the dress and look of the
people--"
Mother Binning did so.
"That's not Holland--that would be Lisbon. Look at the ship again,
Mother. Look at the sailors. Look at the passengers if there are any.
Whom do you see?"
"Ah!" said Mother Binning. "There's a braw wrong-doer for you, sitting
drinking Spanish wine!"
"Say his name."
"It's he that once, when you were a lad, you brought alive from the
Kelpie's Pool."
"Thank you, Mother! That's what I wanted. _Scrying!_ Who gives to
whom--who gives back to whom? The underneath great I, I suppose. Left
hand giving to right--and no brand-new news! All the same, other
drifts concurring, I think that he fled by the Lisbon ship!"
Mother Binning pushed aside the pan of water and rubbed her hand
across her eyes. She took up her bundle of herbs. "Hoot, Glenfernie!
do ye think that's your soul's desire?"
Jock came limping around the house. Alexander could not now abide the
sight of this cripple who had spied, and had not shot some fashion of
arrow! He said good-by and loosed Black Alan from the ash-tree and
rode away. He would not tread the glen. His memory recoiled from it as
from some Eastern glen of serpents. He and Black Alan went over the
moors.
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