d gut into sore trouble, and then went away and died.
But there's nae proof," he said, "there's nae proof. And it's a warning
to Scotch lasses to have nothing to say to Southern strangers. And Jean
was a good lass," he added confidentially, "and would have made a good
saving wife for a sober man with a little siller. She had a grip of
doctrine, too. She was well versed in the fundamentals and would have
made a good elder's wife. But, ay, man, the tempter comes in many a
form, and it behoves us all to be very careful."

So far, Paul's visit to his mother's old home had been entirely without
result. As far as he could see, he could make not one step forward.
Moreover, in spite of the looseness of thought concerning Scotch
marriage, he saw that there was a doubt as to whether the wedding was
legal or not. But he had not finished yet. He had from time to time
read such books as came in his way bearing upon Scotch law, and in one of
these was a definite statement that if a man and woman were known to take
each other as husband and wife, this was proof that their marriage was
legal. So, remembering his mother's words, he made his way towards the
little inn where they had stayed on the night of their marriage. He took
the road which she had told him of, and presently came to the spot where
she and Douglas Graham had taken each other as man and wife. The woman
must have described the scene with great accuracy, for he recognised it
the moment he came to it. The patch of lonely pine trees, the little
lake by which the road ran, the burn coming down the rocky valley, and
the great wild moorlands stretching away northward. And they had stood
within the shade of the pine trees while the setting sun sent its rays of
light through the branches. He believed he recognised the spot on which
they knelt when Douglas Graham prayed that their union might be blessed.
A shiver passed through him as he stood there, and he called to mind the
words they had spoken: "I, Douglas Graham, take thee, Jean Lindsay, to be
my wife, and I promise to be faithful to thee as long as I live." In
spite of sad memories, it seemed like holy ground, and however the
marriage had appeared to the bridegroom, to him it was real and sacred.

It was late that night when he came to the inn near the Scottish border,
but the innkeeper welcomed him eagerly. It had been a wet summer, and
they had had but few visitors. Both the innkeeper and his wife,
theref