The sheep-dogs who had been quietly sleeping under the settle began to be strangely uneasy.

Keeper could scarcely be kept down, even by Andrew's command, and Sandy bounded towards the stranger with low, rapid barks that made John lose the sense of the argument in a new thought.

But before he could frame it into words Mysie came in.
"See here, John," she cried, and then she stopped and looked with wide-open eyes at the man coming towards her.

With one long, thrilling cry she threw herself into his arms.
"Mother! mother! darling mother, forgive me!" John had instantly gone to Andrew's side, but Andrew had risen at once to the occasion.

"I'm no a woman to skirl or swoon," he said, almost petulantly, "and it's right and fit the lad should gie his mither the first greeting." But he stretched out both hands, and his cheeks were flushed and his eyes full when Davie flung himself on his knees beside him.
"My lad! my ain dear lad!" he cried, "I'll see nae better day than this until I see His face." No one can tell the joy of that hour.