. When he woke,
he took his New Testament from the crap o' the wa', and began to
read.

Of late he had made a few attempts upon one and another of the
Epistles, but, not understanding what he read, had not found profit,
and was on the point of turning finally from them for the present,
when his eye falling on some of the words of St. John, his attention
was at once caught, and he had soon satisfied himself, to his wonder
and gladness, that his First Epistle was no sealed book any more
than his Gospel. To the third chapter of that Epistle he now
turned, and read until he came to these words: "Hereby perceive we
the love of God, because he laid down his life for us, and we ought
to lay down our lives for the brethren."

"What learned him that?" said Gibbie to himself; Janet had taught
him to search the teaching of the apostles for what the Master had
taught them. He thought and thought, and at last remembered "This
is my commandment, that ye love one another as I have loved you."

"And here am I," said Gibbie to himself, "sittin' here in idleseat,
wi' my fire, an' my brose, an' my Bible, and a' the warl' aneath
Glashgar lyin' in a speat (flood)! I canna lay doon my life to save
their sowls; I maun save for them what I can--it may be but a hen or
a calf. I maun dee the warks o' him 'at sent me--he's aye savin' at
men."

The Bible was back in its place, and Gibbie out of the door the same
moment. He had not an idea what he was going to do. All he yet
understood was, that he must go down the hill, to be where things
might have to be done--and that before the darkness fell. He must
go where there were people. As he went his heart was full of joy,
as if he had already achieved some deliverance. Down the hill he
went singing and dancing. If mere battle with storm was a delight
to the boy, what would not a mortal tussle with the elements for the
love of men be? The thought itself was a heavenly felicity, and
made him "happy as a lover."

His first definitely directive thought was, that his nearest
neighbours were likely enough to be in trouble--"the fowk at the
muckle hoose." He would go thither straight.

Glashruach, as I have already said, stood on one of the roots of
Glashgar, where the mountain settles down into the valley of the
Daur. Immediately outside its principal gate ran the Glashburn; on
the other side of the house, within the grounds, ran a smaller
hill-stream, already mentioned as passing