rt-smiting cry from within. At the sound of that
cry Ranald staggered as if struck by a blow, and let his torch fall to
the ground. The bearers waited, looking at each other in fear.

"Whisht, Janet, woman!" said Long John, gravely. "Your son is at the
door."

"Ah, indeed, that he is, that he is! My son! My son!"

She stood in the doorway with hands uplifted and with tears streaming
down her face. "Come in, Malcolm; come in, my boy. Your mother is
waiting for you."

Then they carried him in and laid him in the "room," and retiring to the
kitchen, sat down to watch the night.

In half an hour the father came out and found them there.

"You have done what you could, Mr. Macdonald," he said, addressing him
for all, "and I will not be unmindful of your kindness. But now you can
do no more. Your wife and your people will be waiting you."

"And, please God, in good time they will be seeing us. As for me, I will
neither go to my home nor up into my bed, but I will watch by the man
who was my faithful friend and companion till he is laid away."

And in this mind he and his men remained firm, taking turns at the
watching all that night and the next day.

As Macdonald finished speaking, the minister came into the kitchen,
bringing with him the mother and the children. The men all rose to their
feet, doing respect to the woman and to her grief. When they were seated
again, the minister rose and said: "My friends, this is a night for
silence and not for words. The voice of the Lord is speaking in our
ears. It becomes us to hear, and to submit ourselves to His holy will.
Let us pray."

As Ranald listened to the prayer, he could not help thinking how
different it was from those he was accustomed to hear from the pulpit.
Solemn, simple, and direct, it lifted the hearts of all present up to
the throne of God, to the place of strength and of peace. There was
no attempt to explain the "mystery of the Providence," but there was
a sublime trust that refused to despair even in the presence of
impenetrable darkness.

After the minister had gone, Macdonald Bhain took Ranald aside and asked
him as to the arrangements for the funeral. When Ranald had explained to
him every detail, Macdonald laid his hand on his nephew's shoulder and
said, kindly, "It is well done, Ranald. Now you will be going home, and
in the morning you will see your aunt, and if she will be wishing to
come to the wake to-morrow night, then you will bring her."