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CALLUM MACILVESTY had been soon at Jock Lesly's side to afford him such succor and countenance as was possible under the circumstances. He asked for leave to aid him in transporting Lilias, so stiff with the cold was she, back to the cave house, where she sat on the buffalo rug before the flaring fire, her glittering hair all tumbling about her shoulders, her eyes shining with triumph, and laughing with gay outbursts of flattered joy to learn how wretched they had all been because of her absence, and how wrong and wicked they esteemed her sudden arbitrary release of the prisoner.
"_I_ amna sorry," she protested, "except for that the callant hae on my gude red rokelay, an' my best puce-colored serge gownd, an' my gude murrey screen, wi' only ae wee tear in the weft o' it, -- an' I'se warrant I'll no see a' that braw gear again!"