ll; she did not move
now, but spoke his name.

"Hamish, bhodach!"

Did he see her?

"How bright it is in the west! It will be a fair day for the harvest
to-morrow."

It must have been a glimpse of the "glory to be revealed" breaking
through the dimness of death; for he did not see the dear face so close
to his, and if he heard her voice, he was past all answering now. Just
once again his lips moved, murmuring a name--the dearest of
all--"Jesus;" and then he "saw him as he is."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

And having closed the once beaming eyes and straightened the worn limbs
for the grave, Shenac's work at home was done. Through the days of
waiting that followed, she sat in the great chair with folded hands.
Many came and went, and lingered night and day in the house of death, as
is the custom of this part of the country, now happily passing away; and
through all the coming and going Shenac sat still. Sometimes she roused
herself to answer the friends who came with well-meant sympathy; but
oftener she sat silent, scarcely seeming to hear their words. She was
"_resting_," she said to Dan, who watched her through those days with
wistful and anxious eyes.

Yes, she was resting from the days and nights of watching, and from the
labours and cares and anxieties of the years that had gone before. All
her weariness seemed to fall upon her at once. Even when death enters
the door, the cares and duties of such a household cannot be altogether
laid aside. There was much to do with so many comers and goers; but
there were helpful hands enough, and she took no part in the necessary
work, but rested.

She took little heed of the preparations going on about her--different
in detail, but in all the sad essentials the same, in hut and hall, at
home and abroad--the preparations for burying our dead out of our sight.
During the first day, Allister and his wife said, thankfully, to each
other, "How calm she is!" The next day they said it a little anxiously.
Then they watched for the reaction, feeling sure it must come, and
longing that it should be over.

"It will be now," said Shenac Dhu as they brought in the coffin; and she
waited at her sister's door to hear her cry out, that she might weep
with her. But it was not then; nor afterwards, when the long, long
procession moved away from the house so slowly and solemnly; nor when
they stood around the open grave in the kirkyard. When the first clod
fell on the coffin--oh