od as to be loved with the heart and soul
of loving, then all is well. Is it not, Mr. Grant?"

"Indeed it is!--And you are not far from the kingdom of heaven," he was
on the point of saying, but did not--because she was in it already,
only unable yet to verify the things around her, like the man who had
but half-way received his sight.

When they reached the top, he took them past his door, and higher up
the stair to the next, opening on the bartizan. Here he said lady
Arctura must come with him first, and Davie must wait till he came back
for him. When he had them both safe on the roof, he told Davie to keep
close to his cousin or himself all the time. He showed them first his
stores of fuel--his ammunition, he said, for fighting the winter. Next
he pointed out where he stood when first he heard the music the night
before, and set down his bucket to follow it; and where he found the
bucket, blown thither by the wind, when he came back to feel for it in
the dark. Then he began to lead them, as nearly as he could, the way he
had then gone, but with some, for Arctura's sake, desirable detours:
over one steep-sloping roof they had to cross, he found a little stair
up the middle, and down the other side.

They came to a part where he was not quite sure about the way. As he
stopped to bethink himself, they turned and looked eastward. The sea
was shining in the sun, and the flat wet country between was so bright
that they could not tell where the land ended and the sea began. But as
they gazed a great cloud came over the sun, the sea turned cold and
gray as death--a true March sea, and the land lay low and desolate
between. The spring was gone and the winter was there. A gust of wind,
full of keen hail, drove sharp in their faces.

"Ah, that settles the question!" said Donal. "The music-bird must wait.
We will call upon her another day.--It is funny, isn't it, Davie, to go
a bird's-nesting after music on the roof of a house?"

"Hark!" said Arctura; "I think I heard the music-bird!--She wants us to
find her nest! I really don't think we ought to go back for a little
blast of wind, and a few pellets of hail! What do you think, Davie?"

"Oh, for me, I wouldn't turn for ever so big a storm!" said Davie; "but
you know, Arkie, it's not you or me, Arkie! Mr. Grant is the captain of
this expedition, and we must do as he bids us."

"Oh, surely, Davie! I never meant to dispute that. Only Mr. Grant is
not a tyrant; he will let a