coverings for the thin, down mattress, which lay on a jutting shelf of stone covered with straw, and threw more wood on the fire. 

 Soon the room was warm, and in its primitive way, quite comfortable. Mary lay in the bed, her shivering stopped, and the herb tea that her aunt had given her calming her nerves. But still there were the questions that would not rest. 

 “Aunt Margaret,” she began pensively, eyes glittering. “You quarreled with mother, and now she can bear her cross no longer, and she says you must tell me everything.” Though the sentence was hardly coherent, the old woman nodded her understanding. She came and sat on the bed, taking the young girl’s hand in her own. 

 “I’ll tell you this much now, and then you must sleep. There’ll be worlds of time in the morning. Will you promise me you’ll sleep, and trust 

 me till the sunrise?” The daughter nodded. 

 “She’s not your mother, Mary. I am.” 

 

Three

 That night, her subconscious stirred by fever, and by the maelstrom of unsettling events, Mary dreamed more deeply and vividly than she had since childhood. The fire burned brightly before her as the old woman, ever mindful, rocked slowly back and forth, beside her. 

 She stood atop a high hill, looking down into a broad expanse of green valley. To the left she heard the stirring sound of bagpipes, to the right, the ominous drums and steady tramp of the English. Two armies advanced upon each other, making for some indefinable object in the center of the field, which for some reason both sides wanted. To the left the plaid kilts and mixed uniforms of the Highlanders, to the right a rigid, regimented sea of Red. She watched them draw together with the uncomprehending horror that every woman feels for war, unmoved by words of glory and patriotism, understanding only that men, men dear to herself and others, are about to die. 

 It seemed that the Scots would reach the object first, being the swifter and on their own ground; but suddenly they stopped. At their head she saw two men on horseback: a rugged, wizened general, and a handsome young prince with long plumes in his hat, seated on a brilliant white charger. The general was 

 Prev. P 8/152 next