me to look to her for
everything.

"Ye 'r a brave wee lass, Elsie," he used to say, "and I doubt I 've not
been over kind to ye, but I can't do without ye now."

One gloomy September afternoon, when the blustering winds were again
celebrating the return of the equinox, Michael, who had been sleeping
heavily all day, suddenly started up and astonished his wife by an
eager request that she would send at once for George Hendrick and
Father Donnelly.

"I doubt you 're raving, Mike, to send for such a pair. What do you
want with either, not to say both? Nice company they 'd be for each
other."

"I tell you I'm dying, and I must see them both," cried her husband,
rising, gaunt and excited, in the bed. "I say, Elsie," he continued,
"this is Wednesday; run down and see can you find Mr. Hendrick anywhere
about."

Elsie departed at once, while 'Lisbeth tried to soothe the invalid,
muttering all the time, however, her scorn of "Readers" and hatred of
"Papish priests."

George Hendrick was easily found, and in a few minutes was sitting by
the old man's side, soothing him with simple, kindly words, and waiting
for an opening through which to approach the inner man.

"I 've not treated you fair, my mon, and I didn't wish to die without
tellin' you so. Besides, there 's a thing or two I 've been thinkin'
long to speak about, and now the time's come. I 've sent for Father
Donnelly."

"It's far to send and long to wait, Mike; do you not think we can do as
well without him?" asked the reader.

"I've not sent for him, and ye may be sure I 'll have none o' your
Papish priests coomin' about the house, leastways whiles I 'm in it,"
interrupted Mrs. McAravey.

"Then you 'd better get out of it," said the old man; "I never
interfered with you and your Ranters and Covenanters, and I don't mean
to be interfered with. I tell ye, George Hendrick, I'll die in the
Church of my fathers, even if I 'm----"

"Hush!" cried Hendrick, putting his hand to the excited man's mouth;
"we 'll send for the priest if you wish. God forbid that I should
stand between you. Young Jim McAuley is going over to Ballycastle, and
will take a message if Elsie gives it him; but he can't be here for
three or four hours at least, so let us be quiet a wee bit now. You
said you wanted to see me, Mike; and perhaps while we are waiting you
'd like to hear the message of God out of His own book--you needn't
wait to send to Ballycastle for it."

"You may r