"She's deid cripple!" said Andrew at length, straightening his long back
from an examination of Jess's fore feet, and coming to Maggie's side of the
cart with a serious face. "I dinna believe the crater's fit to gang ae step
furder! Yet I canna see what's happent her."

Maggie was on the road before he had done speaking. Andrew tried once to
lead Jess, but immediately desisted. "It would be fell cruelty!" he said.
"We maun jist lowse her, and tak her gien we can to the How o' the Mains.
They'll gie her a nicht's quarters there, puir thing! And we'll see gien
they can tak you in as weel, Maggie. The maister, I mak nae doobt, 'ill
len' me a horse to come for ye i' the morning."

"I winna hear o' 't!" answered Maggie. "I can tramp the lave o' the ro'd as
weel's you, Andrew!"

"But I hae a' thae things to cairry, and that'll no lea' me a ban' to help
ye ower the burn!" objected Andrew.

"What o' that?" she returned. "I was sae fell tired o' sittin that my legs
are jist like to rin awa wi' me. Lat me jist dook mysel i' the bonny win'!"
she added, turning herself round and round. "--Isna it jist like awfu' thin
watter, An'rew?--Here, gie me a haud o' that loaf. I s' cairry that, and my
ain bit bundle as weel; syne, I fancy, ye can manage the lave yersel!"

Andrew never had much to say, and this time he had nothing. But her
readiness relieved him of some anxiety; for his mother would be very
uncomfortable if he went home without her!

Maggie's spirits rose to lark-pitch as the darkness came on and deepened;