"Noo, ye've had eneuch o' 't!" he said. "An' I maun turn an' gang
back wi' you, or ye'll never win hame."
Aggie broke into a loud laugh that rang like music through the
storm.
"A likly thing!" she cried; "an' me wi' my back a' the ro'd to the
win'! Gang back yersel', Cosmo, an' sit by Grannie's fire, an' I'll
gang on to the castle, an' lat them ken whaur ye are. Gien ye dinna
that, I tell ye ance for a', I'm no gaein' to lea' ye till I see ye
safe inside yer ain wa's."
"But Aggie," reasoned Cosmo, with yet greater earnestness, "what'll
ye gar fowk think o' me,'at wad hae a lassie to gang hame wi' me,
for fear the win' micht blaw me intil the sea? Ye'll bring me to
shame, Aggie."
"A lassie! say ye?" cried Aggie,--"I think I hear ye!--an' me auld
eneuch to be yer mither! Is' tak guid care there s' be nae affront
intil 't. Haud yer hert quaiet, Cosmo; ye'll hae need o' a' yer
breath afore ye win to yer ain fireside."
As she spoke, the wind pounced upon them with a fiercer gust than
any that had preceded. Instinctively they grasped each other, as if
from the wish, if they should be blown away, to be blown away
together.
"Eh, that's a rouch ane!" said Cosmo, and again Aggie laughed
merrily.
While they stood thus, with their backs to the wind, the moon rose.
Far indeed from being visible, she yet shed a little glimmer of
light over the plain, revealing a world as wild as ever the frozen
north outspread--as wild as ever poet's despairing vision of
desolation.
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