o, began to talk. They spoke of their father, who had always been to
them a kind of hero; and of their mother, who had lived, and toiled, and
suffered for her family with uncomplaining patience.

"She was a good woman," said Macdonald Bhain, with a note of tenderness
in his voice. "And it was the hard load she had to bear, and I would to
God she were living now, that I might make up to her something of what
she suffered for me."

"And I am thankful to God," said his brother, bitterly, "that she is
not here to see me now, for it would but add to the heavy burden I often
laid upon her."

"You will not be saying that," said Macdonald Bhain. "But I am saying
that the Lord will be honored in you yet."

"Indeed, there is not much for me," said his brother, gloomily, "but the
sick-bed and six feet or more of the damp earth."

"Hugh, man," said his brother, hastily, "you must not be talking like
that. It is not the speech of a brave man. It is the speech of a man
that is beaten in his fight."

"Beaten!" echoed his brother, with a kind of cry. "You have said the
word. Beaten it is, and by a man that is no equal of mine. You know
that," he said, appealing, almost anxiously, to his brother. "You know
that well. You know that I am brought to this"--he held up his gaunt,
bony hands--"by a man that is no equal of mine, and I will never be
able to look him in the face and say as much to him. But if the Almighty
would send him to hell, I would be following him there."

"Whisht, Hugh," said Macdonald Bhain, in a voice of awe. "It is a
terrible word you have said, and may the Lord forgive you."

"Forgive me!" echoed his brother, in a kind of frenzy. "Indeed, he will
not be doing that. Did not the minister's wife tell me as much?"

"No, no," said his brother. "She would not be saying that."

"Indeed, that is her very word," said Black Hugh.

"She could not say that," said his brother, "for it is not the Word of
God."

"Indeed," replied Black Hugh, like a man who had thought it all out,
"she would be reading it out of the Book to me that unless I would be
forgiving, that--that--" he paused, not being able to find a word, but
went on--"then I need not hope to be forgiven my own self."

"Yes, yes. That is true," assented Macdonald Bhain. "But, by the grace
of God, you will forgive, and you will be forgiven."

"Forgive!" cried Black Hugh, his face convulsed with passion. "Hear
me!"--he raised his hand to heaven.--"If I ever fo