s Malcolm always placed him, and left him till the morning. His
eyes were wide open, so that he could not have died in his sleep. But
how, at what hour, or in what manner he had died--whether the summons
had been slow or sudden, whether he had tried to call assistance and
failed, or whether, calling no one and troubling no one, his fearless
soul had passed, and chosen to pass thus solitary unto its God, none
ever knew or ever could know, and it was all the same now.

He died as he had lived, quite alone. But it did not seem to have been
a painful death, for the expression of his features was peaceful, and
they had already settled down into that mysteriously beautiful
death-smile which is never seen on any human face but once.

Helen stood and looked down upon it--the dear familiar face, now, in
the grandeur of death, suddenly grown strange. She thought of what hey
had been talking about last night concerning the world to come. Now he
knew it all. She did not "greet;" she could not. In spite of its
outward incompleteness, it had been a noble life--an almost perfect
life; and now it was ended. He had had his desire; his poor helpless
body cumbered him no more--he was "away."

* * * * *

It was a bright winter morning the day the Earl of Cairnforth was buried
--clear hard frost, and a little snow--not much--snow never lies
long on the shores of Loch Beg. There was no stately funeral, for it
was found that he had left express orders to the contrary; but four of
his own people, Malcolm Campbell and three more, took on their shoulders
the small coffin, scarcely heavier than a child's, and bore it tenderly
from Cairnforth Castle to Cainforth kirk-yard. After it came a long,
long train of silent mourners, as is customary in Scotch funerals. Such
a procession had not been witnessed for centuries in all this
country-side. Ere they left the Castle the funeral prayer was offered
up by Mr. Cardross, the last time the good old minister's voice was ever
heard publicly in his own parish, and at the head of the coffin walked,
as chief mourner, Cardross Bruce-Montgomerie, the earl's adopted son.

And so, laid beside his father and mother, they left him to his rest.

According to his own wish, his grave bears this inscription, carved upon
a plain upright stone, which--also by his particular request--
stands facing the Manse windows:

Charles Edward Stuart Montgomerie,