He says wait for him at the cot that was old Skene's. It
stands empty and folk say that it is haunted and go round about." She
left the tree and took the path with them. "It lies between us and
White Farm. This snow is friendly. It covers marks--it keeps folk
within-doors--nor does it mean to fall too long or too heavily."
They moved together through the falling snow.
It was a mile to old Skene's cot. They walked it almost in
silence--upon Ian's part in silence. The snow fell; it covered their
footprints. All outlines showed vague and looming. The three seemed
three vital points moving in a world dissolving or a world forming.
The empty cot rose before them, the thatch whitened, the door-stone
whitened. Glenfernie pushed the door. It opened; they found a clean,
bare place, twilight now, still, with the falling snow without.
Gilian spoke. "I'll go on now to White Farm. Robin will come. In no
long time you'll be upon the farther road.... Now I will say Fare you
well!"
Alexander took her hands. "Farewell, Gilian!"
Gray eyes met gray eyes. "Be it short time or be it long time--soon
home to Glenfernie, or long, long gone--farewell, and God bless you,
Glenfernie!"
"And you, Gilian!"
She turned to Ian. "Ian Rullock--farewell, too, and God bless you,
too!"
She was gone. They watched through the door her form moving amid
falling snow.
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