ime. If not, we must
wait another week: but I think it will be done. It needs but a word,
madam, and the minister will ask all our prayers for one under
affliction--"

"By no means. I forbid you to speak of me, in one way or another, to
the minister or his wife. I insist on my wishes being observed in
this."

"Certainly, madam. It is not for us to interfere with your plans."

"Then go; go both of you: and do not come near me without my leave. I
want to be alone--I want to be at rest; that is--"

"Ay--at rest," said Annie, half aloud. She was thinking that there
would be prayers from one heart at least in the chapel for peace to a
troubled spirit.

And she did not wait for the Sabbath to pray. As, assisted by her son,
she painfully ascended to the heights, she saw the birds fly in and out,
and hover round on the face of the precipice, as at a bidding she did
not hear, she could not but silently ask that God would send His dove to
harbour in the hollow of this rock with one who sorely needed a
visitation of His peace.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

FOLDING THE FLOCK.

After the busiest week known in the island by anybody living there, the
Sabbath-day came in, calm and mild. The winters, however stormy, were
never severely cold in this sea-beaten spot. It was seldom that ice was
seen; and it was never more than half an inch thick. When, as on this
Sunday, the wind was lulled and the sky was clear, the climate was as
mild as in spring on the mainland. As soon as the aspect of the sunrise
showed the experienced that the day would be fair, busy hands moved into
the old roofless chapel the pulpit and benches which the pastor had
brought with him--the pulpit being a mere desk of unpainted wood, and
the benches of the roughest sort. For these the interior space of the
old building had been cleared during the week; the floor was trodden
hard and even; the walls were so far repaired as to make a complete
enclosure; and some rough stones were placed as steps whereby to enter
the burying-ground. Some willing hands had done more--had cleared the
burying-ground of stones, so that the graves, though sunk, and unmarked
by any memorial but a rough and broken headstone here and there, could
be distinguished by an eye interested in searching out the dead of a
century ago.

Another week, if sufficiently fair, was to see the walls finished and
the roof on: and afterwards would be discharged the pious task of
enclosing the b