d begun to foreshadow this truth: God would
keep it for him.

He had set out before the sun was up, for he would not be met by
friends or acquaintances. Avoiding the well-known farmhouses and
occasional village, he took his way up the river, and about noon came
to a hamlet where no one knew him--a cluster of straw-roofed cottages,
low and white, with two little windows each. He walked straight
through it not meaning to stop; but, spying in front of the last
cottage a rough stone seat under a low, widespreading elder tree, was
tempted to sit down and rest a little. The day was now hot, and the
shadow of the tree inviting.

He had but seated himself when a woman came to the door of the cottage,
looked at him for a moment, and probably thinking him, from his bare
feet, poorer than he was, said--

"Wad ye like a drink?"

"Ay, wad I," answered Donal, "--a drink o' watter, gien ye please."

"What for no milk?" asked the woman.

"'Cause I'm able to pey for 't," answered Donal.

"I want nae peyment," she rejoined, perceiving his drift as little as
probably my reader.

"An' I want nae milk," returned Donal.

"Weel, ye may pey for 't gien ye like," she rejoined.

"But I dinna like," replied Donal.

"Weel, ye're a some queer customer!" she remarked.

"I thank ye, but I'm nae customer, 'cep' for a drink o' watter," he
persisted, looking in her face with a smile; "an' watter has aye been
gratis sin' the days o' Adam--'cep' maybe i' toons i' the het pairts o'
the warl'."

The woman turned into the cottage, and came out again presently with a
delft basin, holding about a pint, full of milk, yellow and rich.

"There!" she said; "drink an' be thankfu'."

"I'll be thankfu' ohn drunken," said Donal. "I thank ye wi' a' my
heart. But I canna bide to tak for naething what I can pey for, an' I
dinna like to lay oot my siller upon a luxury I can weel eneuch du
wantin', for I haena muckle. I wadna be shabby nor yet greedy."

"Drink for the love o' God," said the woman.

Donal took the bowl from her hand, and drank till all was gone.

"Wull ye hae a drap mair?" she asked.

"Na, no a drap," answered Donal. "I'll gang i' the stren'th o' that ye
hae gi'en me--maybe no jist forty days, gudewife, but mair nor forty
minutes, an' that's a gude pairt o' a day. I thank ye hertily. Yon
was the milk o' human kin'ness, gien ever was ony."

As he spoke he rose, and stood up refreshed for his journey.

"I hae a sodger laddie