to John Broom. It was not the
old sour look, it was a kind of noble gravity.

His light-blue eyes brightened as the boy came in, and he held out his
hand, and John Broom took it with both his, saying.

"I never heard till this minute, M'Alister. Eh, I do hope you'll be
better soon."

"The Lord being merciful to me," said the Highlander. "But this warld's
nearly past, laddie, and I was fain to see ye again. Dinna greet, man,
for I've important business wi' ye, and I should wish your attention.
Firstly, I'm aboot to hand ower to ye the key of your box. Tak it, and
put it in a pocket that's no got a hole in it, if you're worth one.
Secondly, there's a bit bag I made mysel', and it's got a trifle o'
money in it that I'm giving and bequeathing to ye, under certain
conditions, namely, that ye shall spend the contents of the box
according to my last wishes and instructions, with the ultimate end of
your ain benefit, ye'll understand."

A fit of coughing here broke M'Alister's discourse; but, after drinking
from a cup beside him, he put aside John Broom's remonstrances with a
dignified movement of his hand, and continued,--

"When a body comes of decent folks, he won't just care, maybe, to have
their names brought up in a barrack-room. Ye never heard me say ought of
my father or my mither?"

"Never, M'Alister."

"I'd a good hame," said the Highlander, with a decent pride in his tone.
"It was a strict hame--I've no cause now, to deceive mysel', and I'm
thinking it was a wee bit ower strict--but it was a good hame. I left
it, man--I ran away."

The glittering blue eyes turned sharply on the lad, and he went on:--

"A body doesna care to turn his byeganes oot for every fool to pick at.
Did I ever speer about your past life, and whar ye came from?"

"Never, M'Alister."

"But that's no to say that, if I knew manners, I didna obsairve. And
there's been things now and again, John Broom, that's gar'd me think
that ye've had what I had, and done as I did. Did ye rin awa', laddie?"

John Broom nodded his black head, but tears choked his voice.

"Man!" said the Highlander, "ane word's as gude's a thousand. Gang back!
Gang hame! There's the bit siller here that's to tak ye, and the love
yonder that's waiting ye. Listen to a dying man, laddie, and gang hame!"

"I doubt if they'd have me," sobbed John Broom, "I gave 'em a deal of
trouble, M'Alister."

"And d'ye think, lad, that that thought has na' cursed _me_, and keepit