for you comin' back. Thomas ye ken already; ye'll no fickle
Thomas Yownie. But don't be mistook about Wee Jaikie. He's terrible
fond of greetin', but it's no fright with him but excitement.
It's just a habit he's gotten. When ye see Jaikie begin to greet,
you may be sure that Jaikie's gettin' dangerous."

The door shut behind them and Dickson found himself with his two charges
in a world dim with fog and rain and the still lingering darkness.
The air was raw, and had the sour smell which comes from soaked earth
and wet boughs when the leaves are not yet fledged. Both the women
were miserably equipped for such an expedition. Cousin Eugenie trailed
heavy furs, Saskia's only wrap was a bright-coloured shawl about her
shoulders, and both wore thin foreign shoes. Dickson insisted on
stripping off his trusty waterproof and forcing it on the Princess,
on whose slim body it hung very loose and very short. The elder woman
stumbled and whimpered and needed the constant support of his arm,
walking like a townswoman from the knees. But Saskia swung from the
hips like a free woman, and Dickson had much ado to keep up with her.
She seemed to delight in the bitter freshness of the dawn, inhaling
deep breaths of it, and humming fragments of a tune.

Guided by Thomas Yownie they took the road which Dickson and Heritage
had travelled the first evening, through the shrubberies on the north
side of the House and the side avenue beyond which the ground fell to
the Laver glen. On their right the House rose like a dark cloud, but
Dickson had lost his terror of it. There were three angry men inside
it, he remembered: long let them stay there. He marvelled at his
mood, and also rejoiced, for his worst fear had always been that he
might prove a coward. Now he was puzzled to think how he could ever
be frightened again, for his one object was to succeed, and in that