he second I wanted to know about: the first I was certain was your own. I
did not know you could enter like that into the feelings of an old man."

"Why not, my lady? I never can see living thing without asking it how it
feels. Often and often, out here at such a time as this, have I tried to
fancy myself a herring caught by the gills in the net down below, instead
of the fisherman in the boat above going to haul him out."

"And did you succeed?"

"Well, I fancy I came to understand as much of him as he does himself.
It's a merry enough life down there. The flukes--plaice, you call them, my
lady--bother me, I confess. I never contemplate one without feeling as if
I had been sat upon when I was a baby. But for an old man! Why, that's
what I shall be myself one day, most likely, and it would be a shame not
to know pretty nearly how _he_ felt--near enough, at least, to make a song
about him."

"And sha'n't you mind being an old man, then, Malcolm?"

"Not in the least, my lady. I shall mind nothing so long as I can trust in
the Maker of me. If my faith in Him should give way, why then there would
be nothing worth minding either. I don't know but I should kill myself."

"Malcolm!"

"Which is worse, my lady--to distrust God, or to think life worth having
without Him?"

"But one may hope in the midst of doubt--at least that is what Mr.
Graham--and you--have taught me to do."

"Yes, surely, my lady. I won't let any one beat me at that, if I can help
it. And I think that so long as I kept my reason I should be able to cry
out, as that grandest and most human of all the prophets did, 'Though He
slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' But would you not like to sleep, my
lady?"

"No, Malcolm. I would much rather hear you talk. Could you not tell me a
story now? Lady Lossie mentioned one you once told her about an old
castle somewhere not far from here."

"Eh, my leddy," broke in Annie Mair, who had waked up while they were
speaking. "I wuss ye wud gar him tell ye that story, for my man he's h'ard
'im tell 't, an' he says it's unco gruesome: I wad fain hear 't.--Wauk up,
Lizzy," she went on, in her eagerness waiting for no answer: "Ma'colm's
gauin' to tell 's the tale o' the auld castel o' Colonsay.--It's oot by
yon'er, my leddy--no that far frae the Deid Heid.--Wauk up, Lizzy."

"I'm no sleepin', Annie," said Lizzy, "though, like Ma'colm's auld man,"
she added with a sigh, "I wad whiles fain be."

Now, there were reasons