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Updated: June 18, 2025
Alexander flashed like a thrown brand down the way he had mounted and across the strip of weeds, and in again to the steel-dark water. "I'm coming!" He gained to his fellow, caught him ere he sank the third time. Dragged from the Kelpie's Pool, Ian lay upon the moor. Alexander, bringing with haste the clothes from the stone above, knelt beside him, rubbed and kneaded the life into him.
"Sooner may the Kelpie's Pool sink into the earth than I forego to give again to you what you have given! What is now all my wish? It is to seem to you, here and hereafter, the avenger of blood and fraud! Remember me so!" He stood looking at the sometime friend with a dark and working face. Then, abruptly turning, he went away. The door of the small room closed behind him.
"Spring makes all the world bonny again." That was in November. On Christmas Eve Elspeth Barrow drowned herself in the Kelpie's Pool. There had been three hours of light on Christmas Day when Robin Greenlaw appeared at Glenfernie House and would see the laird. "He's in his ain room in the keep," said Davie, and went with the message. Alexander came down the stair and out into the flagged court.
When he reached the high ground on the other side, he could still see nothing of him, and with sad heart concluded him carried into the Kelpie's Hole, never more to be beheld alive: what would his mother and Mr. Barclay say? Shivering and wretched, and with a growing compunction in regard to his behaviour to Don, he crawled wearily home. Don, however, had at no moment been much in danger.
I'll cease to spy." He moved away, moss and ling muffling step, gained and dipped behind the shoulder of the moor. The horse grazed on. The laird sat still, his arms upon his knees, his head a little lifted, his eyes crossing the Kelpie's Pool to the wave-line against the sky. Strickland went to where the moor path ran by the outermost trees of the glen head.
The horse was fastened to a stake that once had been the bole of an ancient willow. It grazed around somewhere would be a master.... Presently Strickland's eye found the latter a man lying upon the moorside, just above the water. Again with a shock and thrill though not like the first it came to him who it was. The laird of Glenfernie lay very still, his eyes upon the Kelpie's Pool.
"This is intolerable, Caleb; I really must be gone." "And you will go, then?" said Caleb, loosening his hold upon the Master's cloak, and changing his didactics into a pathetic and mournful tone "and you WILL go, for a' I have told you about the prophecy, and the dead bride, and the Kelpie's quicksand? Aweel! a wilful man maun hae his way: he that will to Cupar maun to Cupar.
That's not how your neck will be broken, my man," said his lordship, with an attempted laugh; for though he was all the angrier that he was ashamed of what he had done, he dared not further wrong the servant before his mistress. A policeman came up and laid his hand on Kelpie's bridle. "Take care what you're about," said Malcolm; "the mare's not safe.
Say that it was wilful, impatient of superiorities, proud, vain, willing to hurt, betray, and play the demon generally! Say that once it gave itself swing it darkened some of the other sixths.... Well, it is done! Yet there was gold. Perhaps, laird of Glenfernie, there is still gold in the mine!" "You are mistaken in your proportions. Gold! You are to me the specter of the Kelpie's Pool!"
Lithe, embrowned, with gold-bronze hair and eyes, knit of a piece, moving as by one undulation, there was something in him not like the Scot, something foreign, exotic. Sometimes Alexander called him "Saracen" a finding of the imagination that dated from old days upon the moor above the Kelpie's Pool when they read together the Faery Queen.
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