Белые люди

           Wealwayscarriedplaidsenoughtokeepuswarmanddry.SoonthisdayIspeakofwedidnotturnbackwhenwefoundourselvesinthemidstofasuddenmist.Wesatdowninashelteredplaceandwaited,knowingitwouldliftintime.Thesunhadbeenshiningwhenwesetout.

           AngusandJeanwerecontenttositandguardmewhileIamusedmyself.TheyknewIwouldkeepnearthemandrunintonodanger.Iwasnotanadventurouschild.Iwas,infact,inamorethanusuallyquietmoodthatmorning.Thequiethadcomeuponmewhenthemisthadbeguntocreepaboutandincloseus.Ilikedit.IlikedthesenseofbeingshutinbythesoftwhitenessIhadsooftenwatchedfrommynurserywindowinthecastle.

           “Peoplemightbewalkingabout,”IsaidtoAnguswhenheliftedmefromSheltie’sback.

           “Wecouldn’tseethem.Theymightbewalking.”

           “Nothingthatwouldhurtye,bairnie,”heanswered.

           “No,theywouldn’thurtme,”Isaid.Ihadneverbeenafraidthatanythingonthemoorwouldhurtme.

           Iplayedverylittlethatday.Thequietandthemistheldmestill.SoonIsatdownandbeganto“listen.”AfterawhileIknewthatJeanandAnguswerewatchingme,butitdidnotdisturbme.TheyoftenwatchedmewhentheythoughtIdidnotknowtheyweredoingit.

           IhadsatlisteningfornearlyhalfanhourwhenIheardthefirstmuffled,slowtramplingofhorses’hoofs.Iknewwhatitwasevenbeforeitdrewnearenoughformetobeconsciousoftheothersounds—thejinglingofarmsandchainsandthecreakingofleatheronenoticesastrooperspassby.Armedandmountedmenwerecomingtowardme.