t understand."

"He is our Lord and Master, Elder Brother, King, Saviour, the divine
Man, the human God: to believe in Him is to give ourselves up to Him
in obedience--to search out his will and do it."

"But there's no time, I tell you again," the marquis almost shrieked.

"And I tell you there is all eternity to do it in. Take Him for your
master, and He will demand nothing of you which you are not able to
perform. This is the open door to bliss. With your last breath you can
cry to Him, and He will hear you as He heard the thief on the cross,
who cried to Him dying beside him: 'Lord, remember me when Thou comest
into Thy kingdom.'--'To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.' It
makes my heart swell to think of it, my lord. No cross-questioning of
the poor fellow, no preaching to him. He just took him with Him where
He was going, to make a man of him."

"Well, you know something of my history: what would you have me do
now?--at once, I mean. What would the Person you are speaking of have
me do?"

"That is not for me to say, my lord."

"You could give me a hint."

"No. God is telling you Himself. For me to presume to tell you would
be to interfere with Him. What He would have a man do He lets him know
in his mind."

"But what if I had not made up my mind before the last came?"

"Then I fear He would say to you, 'Depart from me, thou worker of
iniquity.'"

"That would be hard when another minute might have done it."

"If another minute would have done it, you would have had it."

A paroxysm of pain followed, during which Mr. Graham silently left
him.

CHAPTER LXX.

END OR BEGINNING?

When the fit was over and he found Mr. Graham was gone, he asked
Malcolm, who had resumed his watch, how long it would take Lady
Florimel to come from Edinburgh.

"Mr. Crathie left wi' fower horses frae the Lossie Airms last nicht,
my lord," said Malcolm; "but the ro'ds are ill, an' she winna be here
afore some time the morn."

The marquis stared aghast: they had sent for her without his orders.
"What _shall_ I do?" he murmured. "If once I look in her eyes, I shall
be damned.--Malcolm!"

"Yes, my lord."

"Is there a lawyer in Portlossie?"

"Yes, my lord: there's auld Maister Carmichael."

"He won't do: he was my brother's rascal. Is there no one besides?"

"No in Portlossie, my lord. There can be nane nearer than Duff Harbor,
I doobt."

"Take the chariot and bring him here directly. Tell them to put f