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I
dare
say
it
sounds
audacious
for
an
ordinary
girl
to
say
such
things
in
an
ordinary
way
;
but
perhaps
I
have
said
them
in
spite
of
myself
,
because
it
is
not
a
bad
thing
that
they
should
be
said
by
an
every
-
day
sort
of
person
in
simple
words
which
other
every
-
day
people
can
understand
.
I
am
only
expressing
what
has
gradually
grown
into
belief
in
my
mind
through
reading
with
Angus
ancient
books
and
modern
ones
—
books
about
faiths
and
religions
,
books
about
philosophies
and
magics
,
books
about
what
the
world
calls
marvels
,
but
which
are
not
marvels
at
all
,
but
only
workings
of
the
Law
most
people
have
not
yet
reasoned
about
or
even
accepted
.
Angus
had
read
and
studied
them
all
his
life
before
he
began
to
read
them
with
me
,
and
we
talked
them
over
together
sitting
by
the
fire
in
the
library
,
fascinated
and
staring
at
each
other
,
I
in
one
high
-
backed
chair
and
he
in
another
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
hearth
.
Angus
is
wonderful
—
wonderful
!
He
KNOWS
there
is
no
such
thing
as
chance
.
He
KNOWS
that
we
ourselves
are
the
working
of
the
Law
—
and
that
we
ourselves
could
work
what
now
are
stupidly
called
“
miracles
”
if
we
could
only
remember
always
what
the
Law
is
.
What
I
intended
to
say
at
first
was
merely
that
it
was
not
by
chance
that
I
climbed
to
the
shelf
in
the
library
that
afternoon
and
pushed
aside
the
books
hiding
the
old
manuscript
which
told
the
real
story
of
Dark
Malcolm
of
the
Glen
and
Wee
Brown
Elspeth
.
It
seemed
like
chance
when
it
happened
,
but
it
was
really
the
first
step
toward
my
finding
out
the
strange
,
beautiful
thing
I
knew
soon
afterward
.
From
the
beginning
of
my
friendship
with
the
MacNairns
I
had
hoped
they
would
come
and
stay
with
me
at
Muircarrie
.
When
they
both
seemed
to
feel
such
interest
in
all
I
told
them
of
it
,
and
not
to
mind
its
wild
remoteness
,
I
took
courage
and
asked
them
if
they
would
come
to
me
.
Most
people
are
bored
by
the
prospect
of
life
in
a
feudal
castle
,
howsoever
picturesquely
it
is
set
in
a
place
where
there
are
no
neighbors
to
count
on
.
Its
ancient
stateliness
is
too
dull
.
But
the
MacNairns
were
more
allured
by
what
Muircarrie
offered
than
they
were
by
other
and
more
brilliant
invitations
.
So
when
I
went
back
to
the
castle
I
was
only
to
be
alone
a
week
before
they
followed
me
.
Jean
and
Angus
were
quite
happy
in
their
quiet
way
when
I
told
them
who
I
was
expecting
.
They
knew
how
glad
I
was
myself
.
Jean
was
full
of
silent
pleasure
as
she
arranged
the
rooms
I
had
chosen
for
my
guests
,
rooms
which
had
the
most
sweeping
view
of
the
moor
.
Angus
knew
that
Mr
.
MacNairn
would
love
the
library
,
and
he
hovered
about
consulting
his
catalogues
and
looking
over
his
shelves
,
taking
down
volumes
here
and
there
,
holding
them
tenderly
in
his
long
,
bony
old
hand
as
he
dipped
into
them
.
He
made
notes
of
the
manuscripts
and
books
he
thought
Mr
.
MacNairn
would
feel
the
deepest
interest
in
.
He
loved
his
library
with
all
his
being
,
and
I
knew
he
looked
forward
to
talking
to
a
man
who
would
care
for
it
in
the
same
way
.
He
had
been
going
over
one
of
the
highest
shelves
one
day
and
had
left
his
step
-
ladder
leaning
against
it
when
he
went
elsewhere
.
It
was
when
I
mounted
the
steps
,
as
I
often
did
when
he
left
them
,
that
I
came
upon
the
manuscript
which
related
the
old
story
of
Dark
Malcolm
and
his
child
.
It
had
been
pushed
behind
some
volumes
,
and
I
took
it
out
because
it
looked
so
old
and
yellow
.
And
I
opened
at
once
at
the
page
where
the
tale
began
.
At
first
I
stood
reading
,
and
then
I
sat
down
on
the
broad
top
of
the
ladder
and
forgot
everything
.
It
was
a
savage
history
of
ferocious
hate
and
barbarous
reprisals
.
It
had
been
a
feud
waged
between
two
clans
for
three
generations
.
The
story
of
Dark
Malcolm
and
Ian
Red
Hand
was
only
part
of
it
,
but
it
was
a
gruesome
thing
.
Pages
told
of
the
bloody
deeds
they
wrought
on
each
other
’
s
houses
.
The
one
human
passion
of
Dark
Malcolm
’
s
life
was
his
love
for
his
little
daughter
.
She
had
brown
eyes
and
brown
hair
,
and
those
who
most
loved
her
called
her
Wee
Brown
Elspeth
.
Ian
Red
Hand
was
richer
and
more
powerful
than
Malcolm
of
the
Glen
,
and
therefore
could
more
easily
work
his
cruel
will
.
He
knew
well
of
Malcolm
’
s
worship
of
his
child
,
and
laid
his
plans
to
torture
him
through
her
.
Dark
Malcolm
,
coming
back
to
his
rude
,
small
castle
one
night
after
a
raid
in
which
he
had
lost
followers
and
weapons
and
strength
,
found
that
Wee
Brown
Elspeth
had
been
carried
away
,
and
unspeakable
taunts
and
threats
left
behind
by
Ian
and
his
men
.
With
unbound
wounds
,
broken
dirks
and
hacked
swords
,
Dark
Malcolm
and
the
remnant
of
his
troop
of
fighting
clansmen
rushed
forth
into
the
night
.
