Белые люди

Chapter II

           WhenIrantolookforhershewasnowhere.Icouldnotfindher,andIwentbacktoJeanandAngus,feelingpuzzled.

           “Wheredidshego?”Iaskedthem,turningmyheadfromsidetoside.

           Theywerelookingatmestrangely,andbothofthemwerepale.Jeanwastremblingalittle.

           “Whowasshe,Ysobel?”shesaid.

           “Thelittlegirlthemenbroughttoplaywithme,”Ianswered,stilllookingaboutme.

           “Thebigoneontheblackhorseputherdown—thebigonewiththestarhere.”Itouchedmyforeheadwherethequeerscarhadbeen.

           ForaminuteAngusforgothimself.Yearslaterhetoldme.

           “DarkMalcolmoftheGlen,”hebrokeout.“WeeBrownElspeth.”

           “Butsheiswhite—quitewhite!”Isaid.

           “Wheredidshego?”

           Jeansweptmeinherwarm,shakingarmsandhuggedmeclosetoherbreast.

           “She’soneofthefairones,”shesaid,kissingandpattingme.“Shewillcomeagain.She’llcomeoften,Idaresay.Butshe’sgonenowandwemustgo,too.Getup,Angus,man.We’reforthecastle.”

           Ifwethreehadbeendifferent—ifwehadeverhadthehabitoftalkingandaskingquestions—wemightsurelyhaveaskedoneanotherquestionsasIrodeonSheltie’sback,withAngusleadingus.Buttheyaskedmenothing,andIsaidverylittleexceptthatIoncespokeofthewild-lookinghorsemenandtheirpale,joyousfaces.

           “Theywereglad,”wasallIsaid.

           TherewasalsoonebriefqueryfromAngus.

           “Didshetalktoyou,bairnie?”hesaid.

           Ihesitatedandstaredathimquitealongtime.ThenIshookmyheadandanswered,slowly,“N-no.

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