Her first thought
was, "Can that be Himsel, come ance again as he cam ance afore?"
She stopped in the dusky starlight, and listened with her very soul.
"Andrew!" she cried, for she heard the sound of his steps as he plodded on
in front of her, and could vaguely see him, "Andrew, what was yon?"
"I h'ard naething," answered Andrew, stopping at her cry and listening.
There came a second cry, a feeble, sad wail, and both of them heard it.
Maggie darted off in the direction whence it seemed to come; nor had she
far to run, for it was not one to reach any distance.
They were at the moment climbing a dreary, desolate ridge, where the road
was a mere stony hollow, in winter a path for the rain rather than the feet
of men. On each side of it lay a wild moor, covered with heather and low
berry-bearing shrubs. Under a big bush Maggie saw something glimmer, and,
flying to it, found a child. It might be a year old, but was so small and
poorly nourished that its age was hard to guess.
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