ffie had said
when questioned as to what ailed her, "Alack! alack! she never breathed
a word to me about it."

A deep groan passed through the court, and the unfortunate father fell
forward, senseless. The secret hope to which he had clung had now
dissolved. The prisoner with impotent passion, strove with her guard.
"Let me gang to my father! He is dead! I hae killed him!" she repeated
in frenzied tones.

Even in that moment of agony Jeannie did not lose that superiority that
a deep and firm mind assures to its possessor. She stooped, and began
assiduously to chafe her father's temples.

The judge, after repeatedly wiping his eyes, gave directions that they
should be removed and carefully attended. The prisoner pursued them with
her eyes, and when they were no longer visible, seemed to find courage
in her despair.

"The bitterness of 't is now past," she said. "My lords, if it is your
pleasure to gang on wi' this matter, the weariest day will have its end
at last."

_III.--Jeannie's Pilgrimage_

David Deans and his eldest daughter found in the house of a cousin the
nearest place of friendly refuge. When he recovered from his long swoon,
he was too feeble to speak when their hostess came in.

"Is all over?" said Jeannie, with lips pale as ashes. "And is there no
hope for her?"

"Nane, or next to nane," said her cousin, Mrs. Saddletree; but added
that the foreman of the jury had wished her to get the king's mercy, and
"nae ma about it."

"But can the king gie her mercy?" said Jeannie.

"I well he wot he can, when he likes," said her cousin and gave
instances, finishing with Porteous.

"Porteous," said Jeannie, "very true. I forgot a' that I culd mind
maist. Fare ye well, Mrs. Saddletree. May ye never want a friend in the
hour o' distress."

To Mrs. Saddletree's protests she replied there was much to be done and
little time to do it in; then, kneeling by her father's bed, begged his
blessing. Instinctively the old man murmured a prayer, and his daughter
saying, "He has blessed mine errand; it is borne in on my mind that I
shall prosper," left the room. Mrs. Saddletree looked after her, and
shook her head. "I wish she binna roving, poor thing. There's something
queer about a' thae Deanes. I dinna like folk to be sae muckle better
than ither folk; seldom comes gude o't."

But she took good care of "the honest auld man," until he was able to go
to his own home.

Effie was roused from her state of stupe