d, but Bruce took hold of The Duke's hand in both
of his. He was fast growing weaker. I gave him brandy, and he recovered
a little strength.

"I am dying, Duke," he said, quietly. "Promise you won't blame
yourself."

"I can't, old man," said The Duke, with a shudder. "Would to heaven I
could."

"You were too strong for me, and you didn't think, did you?" and the
weak voice had a caress in it.

"No, no! God knows," said The Duke, hurriedly.

There was a long silence, and again Bruce opened his eyes and whispered:

"The Pilot."

Moore came to him.

"Read 'The Prodigal,'" he said faintly, and in Moore's clear, sweet
voice the music of that matchless story fell upon our ears.

Again Bruce's eyes summoned me. I bent over him.

"My letter," he said, faintly, "in my coat--"

I brought to him the last letter from his mother. He held the envelope
before his eyes, then handed it to me, whispering:

"Read."

I opened the letter and looked at the words, "My darling Davie." My
tongue stuck and not a sound could I make. Moore put out his hand and
took it from me. The Duke rose to go out, calling me with his eyes, but
Bruce motioned him to stay, and he sat down and bowed his head, while
Moore read the letter.

His tones were clear and steady till he came to the last words, when his
voice broke and ended in a sob:

"And oh, Davie, laddie, if ever your heart turns home again, remember
the door is aye open, and it's joy you'll bring with you to us all."

Bruce lay quite still, and, from his closed eyes, big tears ran down his
cheeks. It was his last farewell to her whose love had been to him the
anchor to all things pure here and to heaven beyond.

He took the letter from Moore's hand, put it with difficulty to his
lips, and then, touching the open Bible, he said, between his breaths:

"It's--very like--there's really--no fear, is there?"

"No, no!" said Moore, with cheerful, confident voice, though his, tears
were flowing. "No fear of your welcome."

His eyes met mine. I bent over him. "Tell her--" and his voice faded
away.

"What shall I tell her?" I asked, trying to recall him. But the message
was never given. He moved one hand slowly toward The Duke till it
touched his head. The Duke lifted his face and looked down at him, and
then he did a beautiful thing for which I forgave him much. He stooped
over and kissed the lips grown so white, and then the brow. The light
came back into the eyes of the dying man,