that was shot i'
the lungs an' has scarce been able the last day or twa to crawl to the
yett to see his auld mither--he's deeing this afternoon. I went ower to
the tombstane that keeps the east wund aff him, an' he said to me,
`Andry, man,' said he, `I'll no' be able to crawl to see my mither the
day. I'll vera likely be deid before she comes. Wull ye tell her no'
to greet for me, for I'm restin' on the Lord Jesus, an' I'll be a free
man afore night, singing the praises o' redeeming love, and waitin' for
_her_ to come?'"

Quentin had covered his face with his hands while Black spoke, and a low
groan escaped him; for the youth Anderson had made a deep impression on
the three friends during the week they had suffered together. Wallace,
without replying, went straight over to the tomb where Anderson lay. He
was followed by the other two. On reaching the spot they observed that
he lay on his back, with closed eyes and a smile resting on his young
face.

"He sleeps," said Wallace softly.

"Ay, he sleeps weel," said Black, shaking his head slowly. "I ken the
look o' _that_ sleep. An' yonder's his puir mither at the yett. Bide
by him, Quentin, while I gang an' brek it to her."

It chanced that Mrs. Anderson and Jean came to the gate at the same
moment. On hearing that her son was dead the poor woman uttered a low
wail, and would have fallen if Jean had not caught her and let her
gently down on one of the graves. Jean was, as we have said, singularly
sympathetic. She had overheard what her uncle had said, and forthwith
sat down beside the bereaved woman, drew her head down on her breast and
tried to comfort her, as she had formerly tried to comfort old Mrs.
Mitchell. Even the guards were softened for a few minutes; but soon
they grew impatient, and ordered them both to leave.

"Bide a wee," said Jean, "I maun hae a word wi' my uncle."

She rose as she spoke, and turned to the gate.

"Weel, what luck?" asked Black, grasping both her hands through the
bars.

"No luck, uncle," answered Jean, whimpering a little in spite of her
efforts to keep up. "As we ken naebody o' note here that could help us,
I just went straight to the Parliament Hoose an' saw Lauderdale himsel',
but he wouldna listen to me. An' what could I say? I couldna tell him
a lee, ye ken, an' say ye hadna been to conventicles or sheltered the
rebels, as they ca' us. But I said I was _sure_ ye were sorry for what
ye had done, an' that ye wo