They
hear the sudden barking of Bruce and Wallace, the hounds, and turn to see
what causes the agitation they display.
An old man draws near; he has a knapsack on his shoulders, which he casts
down on the corner of the stoup; he is singing a line of an old French
ditty; he raps at the open door. The Highlander bids him welcome, but
starts with glad surprise as his hand is grasped by the old trapper. "Ha,
Jacob Morelle, it is many a weary year since your step turned this way."
The tear stood in the eye of the soldier as he spoke.
"How is ma chere mere, and the young ones?" asked the old man, in a husky
voice--his kind heart was full. "Can you receive me, and those I have with
me, for the night? A spare corner, a shake-down, will do; we travellers in
the bush are no wise nice."
"The best we have, and kindly welcome; it is gude for saer een to see you,
Jacob. How many are ye in all?"
"There are just four, beside myself,--young people; I found them where they
had been long living, on a lonely lake, and I persuaded them to come with
me.
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