time is bye.... Naebody kens hoo patient
she wes wi' me, and aye made the best o 'me, an' never pit me tae shame
afore the fouk.... An' we never hed ae cross word, no ane in twal
year.... We were mair nor man and wife, we were sweethearts a' the
time.... Oh, ma bonnie lass, what 'ill the bairnies an' me dae withoot
ye, Annie?"

[Illustration: "THE BONNIEST, SNODDEST, KINDLIEST LASS IN THE GLEN" ]

The winter night was falling fast, the snow lay deep upon the ground,
and the merciless north wind moaned through the close as Tammas wrestled
with his sorrow dry-eyed, for tears were denied Drumtochty men. Neither
the doctor nor Jess moved hand or foot, but their hearts were with
their fellow creature, and at length the doctor made a sign to Marget
Howe, who had come out in search of Tammas, and now stood by his side.

[Illustration]

"Dinna mourn tae the brakin' o' yir hert, Tammas," she said, "as if
Annie an' you hed never luved. Neither death nor time can pairt them
that luve; there's naethin' in a' the warld sae strong as luve. If Annie
gaes frae the sichot' yir een she 'ill come the nearer tae yir hert.
She wants tae see ye, and tae hear ye say that ye 'ill never forget her
nicht nor day till ye meet in the land where there's nae pairtin'. Oh,
a' ken what a'm saying', for it's five year noo sin George gied awa,
an' he's mair wi' me noo than when he wes in Edinboro' and I was in
Drumtochty."

[Illustration]

"Thank ye kindly, Marget; thae are gude words and true, an' ye hev the
richt tae say them; but a' canna dae without seem' Annie comin' tae meet
me in the gloamin', an' gaein' in an' oot the hoose, an' hearin' her ca'
me by ma name, an' a'll no can tell her that a'luve her when there's nae
Annie in the hoose.

"Can naethin' be dune, doctor? Ye savit Flora Cammil, and young
Burnbrae, an' yon shepherd's wife Dunleith wy, an' we were a sae prood
o' ye, an' pleased tae think that ye hed keepit deith frae anither hame.
Can ye no think o' somethin' tae help Annie, and gie her back tae her
man and bairnies?" and Tammas searched the doctor's face in the cold,
weird light.

"There's nae pooer on heaven or airth like luve," Marget said to me
afterwards; "it maks the weak strong and the dumb tae speak. Oor herts
were as water afore Tammas's words, an' a' saw the doctor shake in his
saddle. A' never kent till that meenut hoo he hed a share in a'body's
grief, an' carried the heaviest wecht o' a' the Glen. A' peetied him