anse next morning to repeat to the minister
the things he had seen and heard the night before. And all next day,
where there had been the horror of unnamable fear, hope and peace
prevailed.

The service was held under the trees, and while the mother and Bella
Peter sat softly weeping, there was no bitterness in their tears, for
the sermon breathed of the immortal hope, and the hearts of all were
comforted. There was no parade of grief, but after the sermon was over
the people filed quietly through the room to take the last look, and
then the family, with Bella and her father, were left alone a few
moments with their dead, while the Macdonald men kept guard at the door
till the time for "the lifting" would come.

After Long John passed out, followed by the family, Macdonald Bhain
entered the room, closed the lid down upon the dead face, and gave the
command to bear him forth.

So, with solemn dignity, as befitted them, they carried Big Mack from
his home to Farquhar McNaughton's light wagon. Along the concession
road, past the new church, through the swamp, and on to the old
churchyard the long procession slowly moved. There was no unseemly
haste, and by the time the last words were spoken, and the mound
decently rounded, the long shadows from the woods lay far across the
fields. Quietly the people went their ways homeward, back to their life
and work, but for many days they carried with them the memory of those
funeral scenes. And Ranald, though he came back from Big Mack's grave
troubled with questions that refused to be answered, still carried with
him a heart healed of the pain that had torn it these last days. He
believed it was well with his friend, but about many things he was
sorely perplexed, and it was this that brought him again to the
minister's wife.

CHAPTER XII

SEED-TIME

The day after Big Mack's funeral, Ranald was busy polishing Lizette's
glossy skin, before the stable door. This was his favorite remedy for
gloomy thoughts, and Ranald was full of gloomy thoughts to-day. His
father, though going about the house, was still weak, and worse than
all, was fretting in his weakness. He was oppressed with the terrible
fear that he would never again be able to do a man's work, and Ranald
knew from the dark look in his father's face that day and night the
desire for vengeance was gnawing at his heart, and Ranald also knew
something of the bitterness of this desire from the fierce longing that
lay d