no the time for that noo, an' a' wud rather hae yersel'--juist
what's in yir heart, Paitrick: the Almichty 'ill ken the lave (rest)
Himsel'."

So Drumsheugh knelt and prayed with many pauses.

"Almichty God ... dinna be hard on Weelum MacLure, for he's no been hard
wi' onybody in Drumtochty.... Be kind tae him as he's been tae us a' for
forty year.... We're a' sinners afore Thee.... Forgive him what he's
dune wrang, an' dinna cuist it up tae him.... Mind the fouk he's helpit
.... the wee-men an' bairnies.... an' gie him a welcome hame, for he's
sair needin't after a' his wark.... Amen."

"Thank ye, Paitrick, and gude nicht tae ye. Ma ain true freend, gie's
yir hand, for a'll maybe no ken ye again.

"Noo a'll say ma mither's prayer and hae a sleep, but ye 'ill no leave
me till a' is ower."

Then he repeated as he had done every night of his life:

"This night I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."

He was sleeping quietly when the wind drove the snow against the window
with a sudden "swish;" and he instantly awoke, so to say, in his sleep.
Some one needed him.

"Are ye frae Glen Urtach?" and an unheard voice seemed to have answered
him.

"Worse is she, an' suffering awfu'; that's no lichtsome; ye did richt
tae come.

"The front door's drifted up; gang roond tae the back, an' ye 'ill get
intae the kitchen; a'll be ready in a meenut.

"Gie's a hand wi' the lantern when a'm saidling Jess, an' ye needna come
on till daylicht; a' ken the road."

[Illustration]

Then he was away in his sleep on some errand of mercy, and struggling
through the storm. "It's a coorse nicht, Jess, an' heavy traivellin';
can ye see afore ye, lass? for a'm clean confused wi' the snaw; bide a
wee till a' find the diveesion o' the roads; it's aboot here back or
forrit.

"Steady, lass, steady, dinna plunge; i'ts a drift we're in, but ye're no
sinkin'; ... up noo; ... there ye are on the road again.

"Eh, it's deep the nicht, an' hard on us baith, but there's a puir
wumman micht dee if we didna warstle through; ... that's it; ye ken fine
what a'm sayin.'

"We 'ill hae tae leave the road here, an' tak tae the muir. Sandie 'ill
no can leave the wife alane tae meet us; ... feel for yersel" lass, and
keep oot o' the holes.

"Yon's the hoose black in the snaw. Sandie! man, ye frichtened us; a'
didna see ye ahint the dyke; hoos the wife?"

After