and three glasses of
whisky."

"Whisky!" Barbara could hardly compass the unfamiliar word. "The
Doctor never hed sic a thing in the hoose, although mony a time, puir
man . . ." Discipline was softening even that austere spirit.

"No, but you have, for you are blowing a full gale just now; bring up
your private bottle, or I 'll go down for it."

"There's enough," holding the bottle to the light, "to do till evening;
go to the next farm and send a man on horseback to tell Mr. Carmichael
of Drumtochty, that Doctor Saunderson is dying, and another for Dr.
Manley of Muirtown."

Very tenderly did Kate sponge the Rabbi's face and hands, and then she
dressed his hair, till at length he came to himself.

"This ministry is . . . grateful to me, Barbara . . . my strength has
gone from me . . . but my eyes fail me. . . . Of a verity you are
not . . ."

"I am Kate Carnegie, whom you were so kind to at Tochty. Will you let
me be your nurse? I learned in India, and know what to do." It was
only wounded soldiers who knew how--soft her voice could be, and hands.

"It is I that . . . should be serving you . . . the first time you have
come to the manse . . . no woman has ever done me . . . such kindness
before. . . ." He followed her as she tried to bring some order out of
chads, and knew not that he spoke aloud. "A gracious maid . . . above
rubies."

His breathing was growing worse, in spite of many wise things she did
for him--Doctor Manley, who paid no compliments, but was a strength
unto every country doctor in Perthshire, praises Kate unto this
day--and the Rabbi did not care to speak. So she sat down by his side
and read to him from the _Pilgrim's Progress_--holding his hand all the
time--and the passage he desired was the story of Mr. Fearing.

"This I took very great notice of, that the valley of the shadow of
Death was as quiet while he went through it as ever I knew it before or
since. I suppose these enemies here had now a special check from our
Lord and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over
it. . . . Here also I took notice of what was very remarkable: the
water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my
life. So he went over at last, not much above wet-shod. When he was
going up to the gate. . . ."

The Rabbi listened for an instant.

"It is John's step . . . he hath a sound of his own . . . my only
earthly desire is fulfilled."

"Rabbi," cried Carmicha