Two days passed, during which, neglecting even
the slender means of supporting nature which her
situation afforded, nothing but the strength of a
frame accustomed to hardships and privations of
every kind, could have kept her in existence, notwithstanding
the anguish of her mind prevented
her being sensible of her personal weakness. Her
dwelling, at this period, was the same cottage near
which I had found her but then more habitable by
the exertions of Hamish, by whom it had been in
a great measure built and repaired.
It was on the third day after her son had disappeared,
as she sat at the door rocking herself, after
the fashion of her countrywomen when in distress
or in pain, that the then unwonted circumstance occurred
of a passenger being seen on the high-road
above the cottage. She cast but one glance at him
---he was on horseback, so that it could not be
Hamish, and Elspat cared not enough for any other
being on earth, to make her turn her eyes towards
him a second time. The stranger, however, paused
opposite to her cottage, and dismounting from his
pony, led it down the steep and broken path which
conducted to her door.
``God bless you, Elspat MacTavish!''---She looked
at the man as he addressed her in her native
language, with the displeased air of one whose
reverie is interrupted; but the traveller went on
to say, ``I bring you tidings of your son Hamish.
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