Free Amanda Scott by Highland Treasure Page A

cold.”
    “So am I,” Mary agreed. “Shall we go on?”
    “How far is it tae your house?”
    “We are not going there at once,” she said. “Darkness would catch us before we could get there, and in any event, I think we will do better to seek some advice first. I have a good friend who will be glad to help us.”
    Chuff pulled Pinkie to her feet. “Is your friend nearby?”
    “Not far,” she said, getting up and moving ahead so they could follow her. “His name is Bardie Gillonie, and he lives in a wee glen just beyond that pass yonder. We have only to make our way there without getting lost.”
    She had little real worry about losing her way, because the hillside they followed would lead to the path through the pass, but she realized there were some obstacles in their way; and the sunlight had disappeared.
    For some time the dark clouds she had seen earlier had been growing more ominous. Now a light rain began to fall, hardly enough to dampen more than their spirits, but it was enough to make the granite over which they traveled rather slippery. Mary feared it would grow worse before it grew better, and she began to wish they had taken the river path after all. However, as they came to a scattering of boulders, a shrill whistle sounded from below, putting that wish to instant flight.
    “Quick,” she said, “take cover. I don’t know if they can see us from down there, but most likely it’s Black Duncan and his men, so we mustn’t let them.”
    The children scampered ahead of her, diving behind the big rocks, and she hurried after them only to hear Pinkie shriek, “I’m falling! Catch me, Chuff!”
    The boy cried out in terror, and horrified, Mary rushed to his side, only to skid to a halt when she realized they had come to a precipice overlooking a steep tumble of boulders and deep, rugged crevices. “Where’s Pinkie?”
    “She slipped and fell on her backside, then she just up and disappeared,” the boy said frantically. “I’ll gae doon and look for her.”
    “No, wait,” Mary said, grabbing him. “Pinkie, can you hear me?”
    Distantly, and with an odd echoing sound, the little girl’s voice came back on a sob. “I’m in here. Oh, get me out, Chuff, get me out! It’s dark and horrid, and it hurts something awful, Chuff. Get me out!”
    Struggling to free himself from Mary’s firm grip, the boy tried to lunge toward his sister’s cries, but Mary managed to hold him. “Wait,” she said, “we must find the safest way to get to her. It will do her no good if one of us gets killed trying to help her.”
    “She’s afraid. She needs me!”
    “Yes,” Mary said calmly, “she needs you to be sensible.” Getting down on her hands and knees, she leaned over and saw that there was a narrow cavity or crevice in the cliff side some six to ten feet below them where a thin jagged-edged slab of granite had split away from the primary mass, opening like a pocket in a coat. Below it lay twenty feet of open space, then a steep rocky slope. Nausea swept through her at the thought of how close the child had come to death, but she forced herself to sound confident when she said, “Pinkie, we are here. Think, darling, and look around you. Can you not climb out of there?”
    “Nay, I’m stuck, and I canna move me foot. It hurts. Oh, get me out!”
    “We’ll get you out as quickly as we can, darling, but you must be patient. I think we must get some help.”
    “Dinna leave me alone,” Pinkie shrieked.
    “No, of course we won’t leave you alone.” Mary looked thoughtfully at Chuff. “I cannot climb down there, Chuff, because if I fall, both of you will be alone here, and I’m no hand at climbing in any event. Moreover, I cannot tell from here how deep that crevice is or even if I could fit into it.”
    “I can fit, and I can climb doon there and see,” he said urgently.
    For a moment she was tempted to let him try, but it was raining harder now, and she knew they could not take the chance.