"Come away, Papa,
and see my pigs."
But the Captain was in no humour for pigs. "Nonsense, child," he cried,
"let us get out of this mess! Besides, I wish to speak to you on a
matter of importance." They passed through the gate. "It is about
Allan," he continued, "and I'm really vexed. Something terrible has
happened."
"Allan!" the girl's voice was faint and her sunny cheek grew white.
"About Allan!" she said again. "And what is wrong with Allan, Papa?"
"That's what I do not know," replied her father fretfully; "but I
must away to Edinburgh this very day, so you'll need to hasten with my
packing. And bid Donald bring round the cart at once."
But Moira stood dazed. "But, Papa, you have not told me what is wrong
with Allan." Her voice was quiet, but with a certain insistence in it
that at once irritated her father and compelled his attention.
"Tut, tut, Moira, I have just said I do not know."
"Is he ill, Papa?" Again the girl's voice grew faint.
"No, no, not ill. I wish he were! I mean it is some business matter you
cannot understand. But it must be serious if Mr. Rae asks my presence
immediately. So you must hasten, child."
In less than half an hour Donald and the cart were waiting at the door,
and Moira stood in the hall with her father's bag ready packed.
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