begins today : dramatic story of a Scots girl sold as a slave . a gift for the Sultan . that Scottish autumn of 1767 was a cold one . ice rarely melted in the rutted country lanes , and the fields and hills were permanently blanketed in thick , white frost . winter would come early and stay long , and in a country poverty-stricken since the disastrous uprising , the prospect was grim indeed . with strange English landlords usurping their chieftains &apos; seats , the scattered clansmen were gradually deprived of home and hope . sheep were a paying proposition , men were not , so the new lairds wanted land . by paying starvation prices for their tenants &apos; crops , and cruelly raising the cost of food and fuel and rents , they got it . faced with eviction and worse , men despairing of their children &apos;s future turned in their thousands to the bright new world that beckoned from across the sea . it was heartbreaking to go , but worse to stay , and soon every district had its share of deserted cottages and crofts . even in the tiny Aberdeenshire village of Mill o&apos; Steps there were smokeless chimneys and blank , unlighted doorways . but the windows of the blacksmith &apos;s cottage on that cold September night glowed warm and welcoming . in the living-room a blazing peat fire lit up the red-gold hair of a young girl who stirred an iron soup-kettle at the enormous hearth . she was listening with more amusement than respect to the old woman who sat hunched beside her , staring into the flames . you can laugh , my girl , the other reproved her . but the day will come when you &apos;ll remember what I tell you now . you &apos;ll stand where eagles fly - from the scullery there came a sudden angry snort , and an irritable voice called : will you stop this nonsense at once , Morag Paterson ? but the woman at the fire ignored her , and pressed on unperturbed in her droning sing-song voice . you &apos;ll stand where no woman ever stood - and be in mortal danger for it . and all about you there &apos;ll be cruelty undreamed of , and those who would kill you if they could . but there &apos;s love undreamed of for you , too , and some who &apos;ll live to serve you and die to prove it . you &apos;ll walk with a man beside you that men bow down to - Mistress Paterson ! the girl protested laughingly . but the other nodded her head solemnly . aye , it &apos;s the truth . and you &apos;ll be so high and mighty - she &apos;s that already ! the exasperated speaker appeared in the doorway . will you stop filling her head with such blether ? she demanded . blether , is it , Jessie Gloag ? retorted the other , stung . and who was it sent for me to come and say what lies ahead ? blether , indeed ! she turned to stare into the fire again . quietly she said : nay , but it &apos;s true . she &apos;ll wear silks and laces and ride where others will walk , and we that hear of it will marvel at what comes to pass . the girl beside her laughed again , her green eyes dancing in the firelight . och , Mistress Paterson - you should be telling fortunes at a fair ! she teased . it &apos;s rich you &apos;d soon be , with such fine fates for the asking ! old Morag shrugged , but before she could say more the woman she called Jessie turned on the younger one . what ails you , girl ? she snapped . himself will be in this instant and never a drop of hot water to be had . will you fetch the bucket at once ! with a toss of her head , the girl flounced past her . say if you please and I &apos;ll maybe send you a jewel from my crown , she mocked and went , slamming the door behind her . Jessie &apos;s face darkened and the older woman eyed her shrewdly . do n&apos;t be so hard on the lass , Jessie . it &apos;s envy that ails you - envy that your man had a child by the wife before you . but there &apos;ll be sons for you - aye , and happiness , too - when Helen &apos;s gone from your sight . she sighed and turned back to the fire . and that will be much sooner than you &apos;re thinking . it &apos;ll not come soon enough for me , retorted the other ungraciously , and turned as Helen entered to berate her for leaving the outside door ajar . I left it for himself , the girl replied , her manner suddenly oddly subdued . he and Uncle Donald are just coming . she had moved the soup-kettle to one side and now began to fill the cauldron on the hob . but at the sound of footsteps on the path outside she half turned to the doorway , slopping the water badly as she did so . land sakes , will you look what you &apos;re about ! her irate stepmother exploded , as Andrew Gloag entered the room . och , hold your whisht , woman , he said irritably . we &apos;ll have none of you scowls and scolds on my brother &apos;s last night with his family . flushing , she turned on him . but before she could retort , she saw him slump heavily into a chair , and there was something in his attitude that silenced her . watching him from the fireside , Helen was suddenly wildly elated . forcing herself to be calm , she set the bucket down carefully and then stood to face him , her hands pressed together to still their trembling . for a long moment he sat silent and she glanced nervously at the young man who had followed him in . reassured by his nod , she waited to meet her father &apos;s gaze , steeling herself against the remorse she knew she would feel at hurting him . at last , with a shake of his head , Andrew raised his eyes to hers . it &apos;s really what you want , lass ? he said quietly . and , seeing the answer so clearly in her face , added in the same tone : then that will be the way of it . America ! she breathed , and for a moment could not make herself consider how her delight must wound him , compunction killed by the realisation of a thousand dreams . you &apos;re sure you know what you &apos;re about , lass ? he said , eyeing her searchingly . turning your back on all you &apos;ve ever known - have you thought you &apos;ll likely never see your family or friends again ? I know it all , father . but I must go - I must go ! he sighed heavily . and you will leave with Donald in the morning ? if you will let me . for Jessie , this sudden turn of events seemed too good to be true . but as she saw the dispirited sag of her husband &apos;s shoulders she forced herself to speak to Helen . you &apos;ve no call to be leaving home , she said , and flushed as she added , if it &apos;s ought that I &apos;ve said or done - but old Morag cut across her words . the kitchen &apos;s not been built that will hold two women - it &apos;s not your fault or the lass &apos;s . and do n&apos;t you glare at me , Andrew Gloag ! your girl is seventeen and she &apos;d be away from home soon enough , one way or the other . Donald spoke for the first time . she &apos;ll take no harm with me , Andrew . I &apos;m sure you know it . och , man , do n&apos;t speak of it , his brother answered . with an effort he smiled , and it broke the tension . Helen crossed to him and , in a rare show of affection , bent to kiss his cheek . Uncle Donald must have someone to cook and clean and keep house for him , she said eagerly . and maybe he &apos;ll make a fine fortune and marry - and then he can buy me a passage to come back to see you . she glanced hopefully at Morag , expecting support . but the old woman turned again to stare into the fire . all that &apos;s as maybe , she said flatly . but you &apos;ll not change what &apos;s to come , though you talk till you drop . you &apos;ll follow the path that &apos;s been laid for you - aye , and Donald will follow his . sleep was a long time coming to Helen that night . there had been so much to talk about , so much to plan . it was only when she was alone at last in the curtained comfort of her wall cot that she could think at all clearly . she had grown up in the knowledge that a large part of her father &apos;s fondness for her was on account of her remarkable likeness to the mother she had hardly known . now she suddenly saw that her absence might well be the best thing for them all . she had been touched and troubled by Jessie &apos;s obvious effort at conciliation , and knew it for what it was - a gesture of self-sacrifice for the man she loved . the evening &apos;s excitement seemed somehow to have brought a sharper awareness of her own thoughts and emotions , and now , ashamed , she realised that she had never before given a moment &apos;s consideration to Jessie &apos;s . it could not have been easy to try to take the place of an adored memory . and with a spoiled child to contend with as well , it must have seemed an almost hopeless task . she flushed suddenly in the darkness , remembering the times without number when she had deliberately scored off the young stepmother , childishly flaunting her ability to wheedle all she wanted from her doting father . she could see again Jessie &apos;s odd , strained expression at such times - and suddenly she recalled another face , another expression , and her cheeks grew even hotter . Uncle Donald . several times in recent weeks she had caught his thoughtful , measuring gaze on her after some sharp exchange between herself and Jessie , and now she suddenly knew without any doubt that this was his reason for taking her away . not because he needed her or particularly wanted her company , but because he thought the situation unfair to Jessie . it was Jessie who awakened her in the morning - a strangely different , quieter Jessie . for the moment , they were alone : the two men were over at the smithy and old Morag was washing at the pump in the yard . in the light of her new understanding , Helen would have dearly liked to take advantage of the moment and wipe out all past trouble between them . but in her inexperience she found it difficult even to act at all naturally . then Jessie placed a bowl of porridge on the table and pushed Helen &apos;s own horn spoon towards it , and this small courtesy undid them both . after mumbling her thanks , the younger woman sat red-faced and unmoving until the other suddenly said in a tired voice : I &apos;ve not been much of a mother to you , Helen . you &apos;d not be wanting to go away from your home if I had . it &apos;s not that , Helen said lamely , then tried again : I &apos;ve not been much of a daughter to you , come to that . Jessie appeared not to have heard . I meant to be , dear knows . there were plenty to say I &apos;d rue the day , but I would n&apos;t listen . so certain sure I was that God had put me here on earth to care for Andrew Gloag and his child that nobody could tell me different . and now just look what it &apos;s come to ! she sat down suddenly and faced Helen across the table . you &apos;ll break his heart if you go , you know that ? Helen shook her head , all uncertainty amazingly gone . no . I thought about it , last night . I think it &apos;s best for everybody . as Jessie looked at her oddly , she hurried on : I realised a lot of things , last night . things I should have thought of sooner . embarrassed , she said : I was thinking , you could n&apos;t have been much above my age when - when you - she broke off . she could not have said married my father for the life of her . she knew what marriage entailed , and only now did it occur to her that there could have been little of true marriage between Andrew Gloag and his second wife . I was sixteen , said Jessie , quietly . sixteen ! Helen repeated , startled . from the doorway , old Morag said : aye , but she &apos;ll not be twice that before she &apos;s bouncing her first-born on her knee . do n&apos;t talk so daft , woman ! Jessie said , with a return of her old spirit . 