"I've ane o' my wushes to
get, and I maun hae't."
"The man's mad!" was the gudewife's comment. "Ye've surely forgotten
yoursel, Brockburn. Ye never believed in the _Daoine Shi_ before."
"Seein's believin'," said the Laird. "I forgathered with a Man o'
Peace the nicht on the hill, and I wush I just saw him again."
As the Laird spoke the window of the chamber was lit up from without,
and the Man of Peace appeared sitting on the window-ledge in his
daisy-lined cloak, his feet hanging down into the room, the silver
shoes glittering as they dangled.
"I'm here, Brockburn!" he cried. "But eh, man! ye've had your last
wush."
And even as the stupefied Laird gazed, the light slowly died away, and
the Man of Peace vanished also.
On the following morning the Laird was roused from sleep by loud cries
of surprise and admiration.
The good wife had been stirring for some hours, and in emptying the
pockets of her good man's coat she had found three huge cairngorms of
exquisite tint and lustre. Brockburn thus discovered the value of the
gifts, half of which he had thrown away.
But no subsequent visits to the hill-side led to their recovery. Many
a time did the Laird bring home a heavy pocketful of stones, at the
thrifty gudewife's bidding, but they only proved to be the common
stones of the mountain-side. The _Shian_ could never be distinguished
from any other crag, and the _Daoine Shi_ were visible no more.
Yet it is said that the Laird of Brockburn prospered and throve
thereafter, in acre, stall, and steading, as those seldom prosper who
have not the good word of the People of Peace.
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