by Neil M. Gunn
No sound reached him as Sheena played her melody. Everything was arrested except the just perceptible movement of her hand. The playing seemed to go on beyond time. But at last it stopped, and now everything was absolutely arrested. Slowly Sheena’s head tilted up. Martin straightened himself. He looked at Anna and called something. She went down towards them slowly. He turned and heaved the boat afloat, holding the gunnel firmly while Anna stepped in from the rock. Then he lifted Sheena in and finally the Silver Bough. Pushing off, he got both ours going and headed outward over the tranquil sea; then gradually her bow came round, and to the watcher above it was clear at last beyond mortal doubt that a strange and adventurous journey had begun to the White Shore.
