"And the time willna be that lang, for I'll aye be thinking o' you."
"Maggie, when the Fife girls give their promise, what do they bind it
with?"
"They break a sixpence wi' the lad they love, and they each keep a half o'
it."
He took a sixpence from his pocket and broke it silently in two. He had
prepared it for the ceremony, but it required a slight effort, and the
girl stood with her eyes fixed on his white, handsome, resolute face, as
he accomplished the rite. Then he lifted one half, and said: "This is yours, Maggie Promoter. With this silver token, I bind you
mine, until death parts us."
"And this is yours, Allan Campbell. Wi' this siller token, I bind you
mine, until death parts us."
Handfast they stood with the broken silver in their palms; their shining
eyes reading the sacred promise in each other's face. Allan's heart was
too full for words; Maggie, trembling with joy, was yet awed by the solemn
significance of the promise. Yet she was the first to speak-"I'll be true to you, Allan, true as the sun to the dawn, true as the moon
to the tide. Whene'er you come, late or early, you'll find me waiting."
He took her by the hand, and they walked up and down the house place
together; and the rain plashed against the window, and the sun glinted in
after it, and the village awakened to its daily life and labor, but they
took no note of the world outside the cottage, until a little child tapped
low down on the closed door.
"My mammy wants some milk, Maggie Promoter," and Maggie filled the small
pitcher, and then smilingly said, "We hae forgotten our breakfast, Allan.
What will you hae?"
"To-day is all mine, Maggie; let us have oat cake and milk, and kisses."
And he followed her from cupboard to drawer, and stood by her while she
spread the cloth, and ate his portion by her side, and thought it like a
meal in Paradise.
And oh, how swiftly went those few hours stolen from two years of waiting
and longing; full of the eager joy of the moment, touched with the sweet
melancholy of the near parting. They forgot that the wind had changed, and
that David would be earlier home for it; forgot all things but their own
bliss and sorrow, until a passing neighbor called out--"yonder boat coming
wi' all her sails spread, will be the 'Allan Campbell,' Maggie."