wn controlling Christine.

"Ay, I always did what he told me to do. Step softly, Angus. The
Domine is talking."

When they reached the Domine's side, they found him turning the leaves
of a very old Bible. "You see, Colonel," he said, "my father gave me
The Book when I first came here. My ancestors have preached from it
since A.D. 1616. It came to me through a long succession of good men.
It has been my close, personal friend ever since. The finest Bible in
Scotland could not take its place. There are pages in it that have
been luminous to me. I have seen the glory shining out of the black
letters. There are pages in it so sensitive to me that I feel a
special spiritual emanation from them. I will be glad of a new cushion
for The Book, for the one on which it now lies is worn and shabby, and
that ought not to be."

"Then I cannot give you a new Bible, even for the church."

"Impossible! I could not preach from a new Bible. Colonel, it is not
a book, it is a friend. We have secrets together. I have promises from
it, that are yet owing me. It holds our confidences for thirty years.
Sometimes I think it really speaks to me. Sometimes a glory seems to
shine over the page I am reading, and my soul is so happy, that my
tongue speaks aloud joyfully the shining words that have been given
me."

"I would not separate you from such a Bible, Sir."

"I shall be grateful if you give me a new cushion for it. Nothing is
too good for The Book."

Then they stood looking thoughtfully over the bare place. It had an
old, past look. It was plain and moldy, and needed repairing in every
way. The Colonel made a note of what was required in the nave of the
kirk, and then glanced upward. The gallery appeared to be in still
worse condition, but in front of it there was a wonderfully beautiful
model of a full-rigged ship.

"Ah!" exclaimed the Colonel, "a ship instead of a clock! Is that
right, Sir?"

"Quite. I put it there. It was made by a sailor lad born in Culraine,
who came here to die. Long, painful, hopeless days were soothed by the
fashioning of that miniature ship. All the village watched its
progress, all felt an interest in the dying lad. He finished it on the
eve of his death. Young and old came to bid him good-by, and to see
his white, trembling hands dress the topmost spar, and fly the blue
Peter. 'I am just about to sail,' he said, 'sae I'll up wi' the blue
Peter. That means I'm ready to go. Let her carry it till I'm safel