the last red quill sewed to the beaded toe-point.

Then, still serious, she lifted her grey eyes to me:

“I seem to find no words to thank you, Euan. But my heart is — very — full — — ” She hesitated, then stretched forth her hand to me, smiling; and as I touched it ceremoniously with finger-tip and lip:

“Ai-me!” she exclaimed, withdrawing under shelter. “It is raining, Euan! Your rifle-shirt is wet already, and you are like to take a chill! Come under shelter instantly!”

“Fancy a man of Morgan’s with a chill!” I said, but nevertheless obeyed her, set the lantern on the puncheon floor, brushed the fine drops from thrums and hatchet-sheath,