had raked out from the debris washed on to the shore a hencoop, on
which was bound a tiny baby, sodden and cold, but still alive, every
one of the small crowd gathered on the beach below Garthowen slopes,
considered he had added a fresh claim to his name--a name which he had
gained by his frequent raids upon the fierce storms, and the harvest
which he had gathered from their fury. That baby had found open arms
and tender hearts ready to succour it, and when Sara "'spridion" had
stretched imploring hands towards it, reminding the onlookers of her
recent bereavement, it was handed over to her fostering care. "Give it
to me," she said, "my heart is empty; it will not fill up the void, but
it will help me to bear it. There are other reasons," she added, "good
reasons." She had carried it home triumphantly, and little Morva had
never after missed a mother's love and tenderness. The seventeen years
that followed had glided happily over her head; in fact she was so
perfect an embodiment of health and happiness, that she sometimes
excited the envy of the somewhat sombre dwellers on those lonely
hillsides; and when in the golden sunset, she suddenly rose from the
gorse bloom to greet Will's sight, she had never appeared brighter or
more brimful of joy.

"Well, indeed," said Will, casting a furtive glance behind him, to make
sure that no one from Garthowen was following in his footsteps, "Morva,
lass, where hast come from? I will begin to think thou art one of the
spirits thy mother says she sees. I thought thee wast busy in the
dairy at home!"

Morva laughed merrily.

"I had some milk to bring home, and Ann sent me early to help mother a
bit. I was going now to gather dry furze and bracken to boil the