"There's light here, in the day, dye see? The spa it in yon wall isna so verra great that the beasties could get it, but the fresh air is a fine thing. And wi'oot it I could dna cook here in the winter."

Elizabeth saw that there was in fact a cleft in the ceiling of the natural chamber before them. It crested like a moon, with a wide center tapering at both ends. On the swept rock floor there was evidence of a small fire pit.

"O' course, this isna a guid spot tae set when it's raining," Robbie conceded. He looked thoughtful.

"Tell me, lass, what name does Nathaniel hae for ye? Does he call ye Lizzie?"

"My brother calls me Lizzie, but Nathaniel has got into the habit of calling me Boots."

Robbie's laughter echoed in the caves. "Boots? Aye, and it suits ye weel. Did ye ken that the newest and youngest officer in any Tory regiment is called Boots?"

"I wasn't aware," Elizabeth said with a dry smile.

He set off again through the corridor. "Boots. It's no' sae bad as Lizzie, dinna ye think?"

Elizabeth did agree. "By whatever name you care to call me, Robbie, I am finding it increasingly warm the farther back we walk. Do you sleep here in the winter?" She had begun to perspire.

"Aye, as the season moves along, so do I." He nodded. "By January I've settled doon back here."

They had come to the end of the corridor, which widened into a cave just tall enough for Robbie to stand in. The walls shimmered wet in the light of the lantern and then flared bright as he set his flame to a torch set in the wall. The floor was even, but about five feet from where they stood it sloped away suddenly into a dark pool of water, fed by a trickle down the far wall. In the small space before the pool began there was evidence of Robbie's long habitation of this place. A cot, neatly made, shelves, a rough table.

"It is a fine wee bit o' water, this." He turned to Elizabeth with one brow raised. "Can ye swim?"

She shook her head, feeling her hair beginning to curl and stick to her dampening face and neck.

"Aye, I feared so. Nathaniel must teach ye, then, for it's nae good, not knowin' how tae swim in the bush."

Elizabeth's face fell. The sudden and unexpected gift of a hot bath in complete privacy was something she could not easily relinquish.

"Noo, lass. Ye'll hae your bath. Just take care that ye gae nae further than the rope." He picked up a coiled line which lay on the ground with one end knotted securely to a bolt in the wall, and gave the other to Elizabeth. "The floor drops oot, sudden, and we'll no' hae accidents wi' Nathaniel Bonner's new wife."

He looked around himself. "There's drinking water there in the jug, for the spring water isna pleasant, for a' it's a fine tonic. Be sure and drink, lass, for ye'll sweat here like ye've ne'er sweated afore. And nae more than a few minutes in the water, the first time, until ye've had a chance tae accommodate yersel' tae the heat. Will that serve?"

It did serve. When Elizabeth had the cave to herself she undressed in the small light of the lantern, and then with some hesitancy immersed herself in the warm water. Elizabeth took her minutes and more, and then reluctantly emerged to wrap herself in the rough blanket Robbie had left for her. She had meant to take the opportunity to wash her linen, but once on the edge of the bed, tingling from the pleasure of the soaking, her muscles loose and her hair wrapped around her head, she fell into a good and restful sleep, and she stayed there for many hours.

* * *

"Do ye ken where ye are?" Robbie asked. He stepped back from Elizabeth and looked around himself as if he were as unfamiliar with this part of the world as she was. "Do ye ken north fra' south?"

They were on their way down to the river to fish, and after just a day in his care, it was clear to Elizabeth that Robbie was as much a teacher as Runs-from-Bears. Their progress was slow, for he found it necessary to point out to her everything edible in their path. Now, in reply to his question, Elizabeth studied the sky, what she could see of it. There was no hope of determining the position of the sun. With a bit of an apologetic smile, she shook her head at Robbie.

"That," he said, his brow furrowing, "wilma do. Ye must be able tae set off richt if ye dinna want tae gang agley." He was slipping more and more into Scots as the day went on. Elizabeth sometimes had trouble understanding him, but thus far he had always been aware when she became confused, and then he repeated himself as he did now. Slowly, saying exactly the same thing.

"You know," Elizabeth decided to point out to him. "Perhaps it's a big enough challenge learning Kahnyen’keháka right now, without adding Scots to my lesson plan. As much as it would interest me—" she added hastily, seeing his raised brow.

"Aye, and weel ye should learn Scots, ma dear," said Robbie. "For there's nae better tongue for settin' a man richt. Cora could make her men wither an' wilt wi' it when the mood was on her, though she could talk English wino' a trace of the Scots when she chose—which was seldom the case, sac lang I kent her. Nathaniel can be a feisty deil betimes, and ye'll hae need o' Scots enough tae put him in his place."

"No doubt!" laughed Elizabeth. "But at the moment, don't you think it would be sufficient if I learned north from south?"

Robbie scratched his head thoughtfully. "Aye," he said finally. "Ye've the richt o' it, lass. And p'rhaps makin' a Scots woman o' thee is no' the best thing tae be doin'. Ye've done wed for yersel', so as ye stan'." He walked over to a pine and ran a large fist down its branch, coming away with a few needles. These he held out to Elizabeth.