ike that, Bell wumman, sae lang as Saunders is still
living'; a'll never give up houp, for ma pairt, till oor ain man says
the word.

"A' the doctors in the land dinna ken as muckle aboot us as Weelum
MacLure, an' he's ill tae beat when he's trying tae save a man's life."

MacLure, on his coming, would say nothing, either weal or woe, till he
had examined Saunders. Suddenly his face turned into iron before their
eyes, and he looked like one encountering a merciless foe. For there was
a feud between MacLure and a certain mighty power which had lasted for
forty years in Drumtochty.

[Illustration: "GAVE WAY UTTERLY"]

"The London doctor said that Saunders wud sough awa afore mornin', did
he? Weel, he's an authority on fevers an' sic like diseases, an' ought
tae ken.

"It's may be presumptous o' me tae differ frae him, and it wudna be
verra respectfu' o' Saunders tae live aifter this opeenion. But Saunders
wes awe thraun an' ill tae drive, an' he's as like as no tae gang his
own gait.

"A'm no meanin' tae reflect on sae clever a man, but he didna ken the
seetuation. He can read fevers like a buik, but he never cam across sic
a thing as the Drumtochty constitution a' his days.

"Ye see, when onybody gets as low as puir Saunders here, it's juist
a hand to hand wrastle atween the fever and his constitution, an' of
coorse, if he had been a shilpit, stuntit, feckless effeegy o' a cratur,
fed on tea an' made dishes and pushioned wi' bad air, Saunders wud hae
nae chance; he wes boond tae gae oot like the snuff o' a candle.

[Illustration]

"But Saunders hes been fillin' his lungs for five and thirty year wi'
strong Drumtochty air, an' eatin' naethin' but kirny aitmeal, and
drinkin' naethin' but fresh milk frae the coo, an' followin' the ploo
through the new-turned sweet-smellin' earth, an' swingin' the scythe in
haytime and harvest, till the legs an' airms o' him were iron, an' his
chest wes like the cuttin' o' an oak tree.

"He's a waesome sicht the nicht, but Saunders wes a buirdly man aince,
and wull never lat his life be taken lichtly frae him. Na, na, he hesna
sinned against Nature, and Nature 'ill stand by him noo in his oor o'
distress.

"A' daurna say yea, Bell, muckle as a' wud like, for this is an evil
disease, cunnin, an' treacherous as the deevil himsel', but a' winna say
nay, sae keep yir hert frae despair.

"It wull be a sair fecht, but it 'ill be settled one wy or anither by
sax o'clock the morn's m