think o' her, Jamie?" asked Christine.

"I think she is dying, Auntie."

"Go hame as quick as you can, and tell your feyther to come, and not
to lose a minute. Tell him he must bring the Cup wi' him, or I'm
feared he'll be too late."

The Domine's voice roused Margot a little. She put out her trembling
hand, and the likeness of a smile was on her face. "Is He come?" she
asked.

"Only a few more shadows, Margot, and He will come. I have brought the
Cup with me, Margot. Will you drink the Wine of Remembrance now?"

"Ay, will I--gladly!"

The Domine and Christine ate and drank the sacred meal with her, and
after it she seemed clearer and better, and the Domine said to her,
"Margot, you will see my dear old friend, James Ruleson, very soon
now. Will you tell him I send him my love? Will you tell him little
Jamie is my son now, and that he is going to make the name of James
Ruleson stand high in the favor of God and man?"

"I'll tell him a' anent Jamie--and anent Christine, too."

"The dead wait and long for news of the living they love. Someway,
sooner or later, good news will find them out, and make even heaven
happier. Farewell, Margot!"

Later in the evening there came that decided lightening which so often
precedes death. Margot asked for Norman, and while he knelt beside
her, she gave him some instructions about her burial, and charged him
to stand by his sister Christine. "She'll be her lane," she said,
"'til my year is gane by, and the warld hates a lone woman who fends
for hersel'. Stay wi' Christine tonight. Tell Christine to come to
me."

When Christine was at her side, she asked, "Do you remember the verses
in the wee, green book?"

"Called 'Coming'?"

"Ay"--and she added very slowly the first few words she wished to
hear--"It may be when the midnight----"

"Is heavy upon the land,
And the black waves lying dumbly
Along the sand,
When the moonless night draws close,
And the lights are out in the house,
When the fires burn low and red,
And the watch is ticking loudly,
Beside the bed.
Though you sleep tired out, on your couch
Still your heart must wake and watch,
In the dark room.
For it may be that at midnight,
I will come."

And then Norman said solemnly, "In such an hour as you think not, He
will come."

About ten o'clock Christine caught an anxious look in her eyes, and
she asked, "What is it, Mither, dear Mither?"

"Neil!" she answered