snuff-box, when a pinch or two seemed to drive away the happy ease
engendered by the whisky and water, clearing his brain, and forcing him
to think of the realities of life.

"No," he thought now, "it would not be right to give up what he had
taught himself was a duty. How did he know but what, after all, that
John Gurdon might come back that very night, and put back in a few
moments what it had taken him months to erase?"

"I'll go," said Sandy, "if its only for the name of the thing. I mean
to win the lassie if leaving no stone unturned will do it; and now,
here's a little wee bit of crag lying in my way, and I'm too idle to
touch it. Sandy McCray, take your cap, mon, and go and do your duty.
It's the little tiny cracks that open out into big splits, so stop them
up when they're small. Keep your trees pruned back, my lad, or they'll
grow wild and ragged; and whenever ye feel a weed coming up in your
nature, pull him up direct. This bit of wanting to stop away is a weed,
lad, so pull it up at once."

Sandy McCray must have taken it out by the very roots, for the next
minute he had closed his door, and was stealthily walking over the grass
towards the pleasure-grounds.

There was not a step of the way that was not familiar, and on the
darkest night he could have avoided every flower-bed, as if by instinct,
or even have made his way blindfold; hence he had soon crossed the
bridge, and walked softly on towards the great lawn, noting, as he went,
that there was not a single light visible in the great mansion.

"I'll just go the length of the place, and then stop for a moment by the
lassie's window, and home again," muttered McCray, and then he stopped
short, for a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a voice whispered in
his ear:

"Stay here a few minutes, Joe. He's gone to have a look up at the back
windows, and I'll go this side. Don't move, because it's so
confoundedly dark!"

McCray felt the next minute, rather than saw, that he was alone. His
breath came thickly, and his heart beat fast, as, wiping the sweat from
his forehead, he bent down and ran softly over the grass to the edge of
the lawn, leaped the gravel walk so as to land upon the other side, and
then, softly creeping amongst the bushes, he hurried towards where
Jane's window looked down, a strange beating at his temples, and an
aching void at his heart.

"And only to think," he muttered, "me sitting drinking mysel' drunk, and
all the while