on Hob's shoulder, and seemed ready to fall asleep there.

'Her horse fell with her, and they were too bent on their sport to
heed her,' explained the boy, as he trudged along beside Hob and his
charge, 'so she wandered on foot till by good hap I heard her moan.'

'Ay, there will be a rare coil to-night for having missed her,' said
Hob; 'but I've heard tell, my Lady Prioress heeds her hawks more than
her nuns! But be she who she may, we'll have her home, and Mother
Doll shall see to her, for she needs it sure, poor bairn. She is
asleep already.'

So she was, with her head nestled into the shepherd's neck, nor did
she waken when after a tramp of more than a mile the bleatings of the
folded sheep announced that they were nearly arrived, and in the low
doorway there shone a light, and in the light stood a motherly form,
in a white woollen hood and dark serge dress. Tired as he was, Hal
ran on to her, exclaiming 'All well, Mammy Doll?'

'Ah well!' she answered, 'thank the good God! I was in fear for
thee, my boy! What's that Daddy hath? A strayed lamb?'

'Nay, Mammy, but a strayed maiden! 'Twas that kept me so long. I
had to bear her through the burn at Blackreed, and drag her on as
best I might, and she is worn out and weary.'

'Ay,' said Hob, as he came up. 'How now, my bit lassie?' as he put
her into the outstretched arms of his wife, who sat down on the
settle to receive her, still not half awake.