Take that, then. Come back, Mack!" Then
followed a cry so wild that Ranald awoke and came into the room.

"Bring in some snow, Ranald," said the minister's wife; "we will lay
some on his head."

She bathed the hot face and hands with ice-cold water, and then laid a
snow compress on the sick man's head, speaking to him in quiet, gentle
tones, till he was soothed again to sleep.

When the gray light of the morning came in through the little window,
Macdonald woke sane and quiet.

"You are better," said Mrs. Murray to him.

"Yes," he said, "I am very well, thank you, except for the pain here."
He pointed to his chest.

"You have been badly hurt, Ranald tells me. How did it happen?"

"Well," said Macdonald, slowly, "it is very hard to say."

"Did the tree fall on you?" asked Mrs. Murray.

Macdonald glanced at her quickly, and then answered: "It is very
dangerous work with the trees. It is wonderful how quick they will
fall."

"Your face and breast seem very badly bruised and cut."

"Aye, yes," said Macdonald. "The breast is bad whatever."

"I think you had better send for Doctor Grant," Mrs. Murray said. "There
may be some internal injury."

"No, no," said Macdonald, decidedly. "I will have no doctor at me, and
I will soon be round again, if the Lord will. When will the minister be
home?"

But Mrs. Murray, ignoring his attempt to escape the subject, went on:
"Yes, but, Mr. Macdonald, I am anxious to have Doctor Grant see you, and
I wish you would send for him to-morrow."

"Ah, well," said Macdonald, not committing himself, "we will be seeing
about that. But the doctor has not been in this house for many a day."
Then, after a pause, he added, in a low voice, "Not since the day she
was taken from me."

"Was she ill long?"

"Indeed, no. It was just one night. There was no doctor, and the women
could not help her, and she was very bad--and when it came it was a
girl--and it was dead--and then the doctor arrived, but he was too
late." Macdonald Dubh finished with a great sigh, and the minister's
wife said gently to him:

"That was a very sad day, and a great loss to you and Ranald."

"Aye, you may say it; she was a bonnie woman whatever, and grand at the
spinning and the butter. And, oich-hone, it was a sad day for us."

The minister's wife sat silent, knowing that such grief cannot be
comforted, and pitying from her heart the lonely man. After a time she
said gently, "She is better off."

A look of d