he room, to find, not
Dickson, but an old man with clear, keen eyes and soft white hair
sitting beside the bed. His hands were clasped together on the top of
his staff, and his face, benign and grave, was turned toward the sick
man.

"He seems to be asleep," said Allison softly, as she drew near.

"Yes, he seems to be asleep," said the old man; "but I have a message to
him from the Master, and I can wait till he wakens. And who may you be?
One who comes on an errand of mercy, or I am greatly mistaken."

"I am a nurse here. And--I am--this man's wife."

She said it in a whisper, having had no thought a moment before of ever
uttering the words.

"Ay! ay!" said the old man, in tones which expressed many things--
surprise, interest, awakened remembrance. And then Allison turned and
met the eyes of her husband.

"It is the minister come to see you," said she, drawing back from his
outstretched hand.

"Stay where you are," said he, taking hold of her gown. "Bide still
where you are."

"Yes, I will bide. It is Doctor Kirke who has come to see you."

"You have had a long and sore time of trouble and pain," said the
minister, gravely.

"Yes, but the worst is over now," said Brownrig, his eyes still fixed on
Allison's half-averted face.

"Let us hope so," said the old man, solemnly. "If the Lord's dealing
has been taken to heart and His lesson learned, the worst is over."

But he had more to say than this. He was by no means sure that in his
sense, or in any sense, the worst was over for this man, who had all his
life sinned with a high hand, in the sight of his fellow-men, as well as
in the sight of his Maker. His heart was full of pity, but he was one
of those whose pity inclines them to be faithful rather than tender.

"Man, you have been a great sinner all your days," he said, slowly and
solemnly. Many changes passed over the face of Brownrig as the minister
went on, but he never removed his eyes from the face of Allison, nor
loosened his firm clasp of her hand.

Faithful! Yes, but yet tender. How full of pity and of entreaty was
the old man's voice when he spoke of One who, hating sin, yet loves the
sinner; One who is slow to anger, full of compassion and of great mercy,
not willing that any should perish, but that all, even the worst, should
come unto Him and live.

"And, O man! ye need Him no less, that you may be going back to your
life again. The Lord could do wonderful things for the like