As Falconer sat thinking, the doctor spoke. They were low, faint,
murmurous sounds, for the lips were nearly at rest. Wanted no more for
utterance, they were going back to the holy dust, which is God's yet.

'Father, father!' he cried quickly, in the tone and speech of a Scotch
laddie, 'I'm gaein' doon. Haud a grup o' my han'.'

When Robert hurried to the bedside, he found that the last breath had
gone in the words. The thin right hand lay partly closed, as if it had
been grasping a larger hand. On the face lay confidence just ruffled
with apprehension: the latter melted away, and nothing remained but
that awful and beautiful peace which is the farewell of the soul to its
servant.

Robert knelt and thanked God for the noble man.

CHAPTER V. A TALK WITH GRANNIE.

Dr. Anderson's body was, according to the fine custom of many of the
people of Aberdeen, borne to the grave by twelve stalwart men in black,
with broad round bonnets on their heads, the one-half relieving the
other--a privilege of the company of shore-porters. Their exequies are
thus freed from the artificial, grotesque, and pagan horror given by
obscene mutes, frightful hearse, horses, and feathers. As soon as,
in the beautiful phrase of the Old Testament, John Anderson was thus
gathered to his fathers, Robert went to pay a visit to his grandmother.

Dressed to a point in the same costume in which he had known her from
childhood, he found her little altered in appearance. She was one of
those who instead of stooping with age, settle downwards: she was still
as erect as ever, though shorter. Her step was feebler, and when she
prayed, her voice quavered more. On her face sat the same settled,
almost hard repose, as ever; but her behaviour was still more gentle
than when he had seen her last. Notwithstanding, however, that time had
wrought so little change in her appearance, Robert felt that somehow the
mist of a separation between her world and his was gathering; that
she was, as it were, fading from his sight and presence, like the moon
towards 'her interlunar cave.' Her face was gradually turning from him
towards the land of light.

'I hae buried my best frien' but yersel', grannie,' he said, as he took
a chair close by her side, where he used to sit when he read the Bible
and Boston to her.

'I trust he's happy. He was a douce and a weel-behaved man; and ye hae
rizzon to respec' his memory. Did he dee the deith o' the richteous,
think ye, laddie