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Updated: July 23, 2025
And Bertram's right and Bertram's might Shall meet on Ellangowan height. Hae, there's a letter to him; I was gaun to send it in another way. I canna write mysell; but I hae them that will baith write and read, and ride and rin for me. Tell him the time's coming now, and the weird's dreed, and the wheel's turning. Bid him look at the stars as he has looked at them before. Will ye mind a' this?
And now the clock, obeying its north face, struck eight. Before the last stroke had sounded the girl was made aware of the betraying light. She whirled out of Rackby's arms and ran toward Sam Dreed. The big viking stood with his feet planted well apart, and a mistrustful finger in his beard. "Touch and go!" cried Caddie Sills, falling on his neck. "Do we go at the top of the tide, mister?"
There is to be no pardon till I have dreed out the years appointed me in the gust and poverty of this dreadful place, among its hard, unfriendly men. My God! I am but thirty-three years old. How long wilt thou be angry with me? And the little lad! Pass me by, but oh, be merciful to him!" A great silence followed this imploration. The man was waiting.
At this hour the heart of man may be powerfully stirred, by an anguish, a prayer, or perhaps a fragrance. The harbor master, uttering a brief cry, dropped to his knees and remained mute, his arms extended toward the sea in a gesture of reconcilement. On that night the Sally Lunn, Cap'n Sam Dreed, was wrecked on the sands of Pull-an'-be-Damned.
He was pushing forward, near sundown, to take the impulse of an eddy at the edge of Pull-an'-be-Damned when he saw that predatory, songful woman balanced knee-deep in rushing water, her arms tossing. "She's drowning herself after her quarrel with Sam Dreed," was his first thought. He had just heard a fine tale of that quarrel. The truth was not quite so bold.
He felt the first of many wild pangs in thus subjecting himself to last insult. "Where are you going?" The words had the pitiful vacuity of a detaining question. For what should it matter to Jethro where she went, if she went in company with Sam Dreed? "How can I tell you that, little man?" Cad Sills flung over her shoulder at him. "The sea is wide and uncertain."
The twelve beautiful girls who received the gifts have since fulfilled their various destinies each has "dreed her weird," according to the solemn, sad old Scotch phrase. Some, perhaps the happiest, have passed betimes into the silent land; the survivors are elderly women, with granddaughters as lovely as they themselves were in their opening day.
Moya Lavelle shut herself up in the cabin her husband Patrick had built, and dreed her weird alone. Of all the boys who had gone down with the hooker none was finer than Patrick Lavelle. He was brown and handsome, broad-shouldered and clever, and he had the good-humoured smile and the kindly word where the people are normally taciturn and unsmiling.
It was a sore point with Sam Dreed that the ship chandler had that day effected a lien for labor on his ship, and the libel was nailed to the mast. "Now they'll scandalize each other," murmured Zinie Shadd. They were turned from that purpose only by the sudden passing at their backs of the woman in question, Caddie Sills. Quiet reigned.
Cad Sills ran her eye over them deftly, as if they were the separate strings of an instrument which could afford gratification to her only when swept lightly all at one time by her tingling finger tips, or, more likely, by the intangible plectrum in her black eye. The man she selected for her nod was Sam Dreed, however. Peter Loud felt the walls of his heart pinch together with jealousy.
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