They looked over his shoulder at what was to be their home.

Henderson gestured. ‘Living and cooking area here, sleeping loft above. Couple of straw palliasses up there. You’ll find they’re quite comfortable. You get your water from the river and there’s an outhouse at the back.’

The room was completely bare. In one corner a ladder connected with the loft.

‘Suit you, does it?’ Henderson asked.

‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Are we alone here?’ Lorna asked.

‘One other family. Name of Curtis—husband and wife. He’s the blacksmith. They’ve gone to bed but you’ll meet them tomorrow.’ It was just dark, soon to be in bed, but no doubt they made an early start. ‘Three single blokes, too,’ Henderson added. ‘But they’re away at the moment.’

‘Away?’

‘We got over thirty thousand acres. The sheep have to be dipped and looked after. You’ll be away for days at a time quite often. Your wife will stay here, of course, and give a hand around the house and dairy.’

‘That’ll be fine,’ Andrew said.

‘You’ve not eaten, I suppose? If you come over the kitchen when you’re ready there’ll be something for you.’ He went out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

Lorna and Andrew looked at each other.

Andrew took a deep breath. ‘It’s exactly what I was hoping for. A living and a roof over our heads while I learn what I need to know aboot farming out here.’ His enthusiasm gathered force. ‘In a year or two we’ll be ready to start out on our ain. We’ve done the right thing coming here.’

‘I hope so.’ Lorna was swimming in tiredness. All she wanted was sleep but there were things they must attend to first. ‘Shall we go across to the kitchen, then?’

Shadows from the candle streamed like gigantic spectres across the white walls.

‘In a moment.’ Andrew’s shadowed features looked more austere than ever in the candle flame. ‘First let us kneel and give thanks to God for having brought us safe to this place.’

A clapper woke them shortly before dawn.

They went out into a world of grey mist tinged with a hint of gold. In the windless dawn the bare gum trunks gleamed, seeming to float above the mist that lay thigh-deep upon the ground and roiled in grey scarves along the course of the river. The air was cool. They stood outside the door of their quarters, uncertain what was expected of them.

There was movement from the other end of the building. The Curtises came out. The man appeared first—ruddy-faced, deep-chested, wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up high on massive arms. Black hair clotted in the open collar of his shirt and formed a dense cap on his head. He was clean-shaven. The woman was shorter, also with dark hair, and pregnant. By the look of her, her time could not be far off.