tae see anither man on Jess, and nae man 'ill ever touch the
auld mare."

[Illustration]

"Dinna mind me, Paitrick, for a" expeckit this; but ye ken we're no
verra gleg wi' oor tongues in Drumtochty, an' dinna tell a' that's in
oor hearts.

"Weel, that's a' that a' mind, an' the rest a' leave tae yersel'. A've
neither kith nor kin tae bury me, sae you an' the neeburs 'ill need tae
lat me doon; but gin Tammas Mitchell or Saunders be stannin' near and
lookin' as if they wud like a cord, gie't tae them, Paitrick. They're
baith dour chiels, and haena muckle tae say, but Tammas hes a graund
hert, and there's waur fouk in the Glen than Saunders.

"A'm gettin' drowsy, an' a'll no be able tae follow ye sune, a' doot;
wud ye read a bit tae me afore a' fa' ower?

"Ye 'ill find ma mither's Bible on the drawers' heid, but ye 'ill need
tae come close tae the bed, for a'm no hearin' or seein' sae weel as a'
wes when ye cam."

Drumsheugh put on his spectacles and searched for a comfortable
Scripture, while the light of the lamp fell on his shaking hands and the
doctor's face where the shadow was now settling.

[Illustration]

"Ma mither aye wantit this read tae her when she wes sober" (weak), and
Drumsheugh began, "In My Father's house are many mansions," but MacLure
stopped him.

"It's a bonnie word, an' yir mither wes a sanct; but it's no for the
like o' me. It's ower gude; a' daurna tak it.

"Shut the buik an' let it open itsel, an' ye 'ill get a bit a've been
readin' every nicht the laist month."

Then Drumsheugh found the Parable wherein the Master tells us what God
thinks of a Pharisee and of a penitent sinner, till he came to the
words: "And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so
much as his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be
merciful to me a sinner."

"That micht hae been written for me, Paitrick, or ony ither auld sinner
that hes feenished his life, an' hes naethin' tae say for himsel'.

"It wesna easy for me tae get tae kirk, but a' cud hae managed wi' a
stretch, an' a' used langidge a' sudna, an' a' micht hae been gentler,
and not been so short in the temper. A' see't a' noo.

"It's ower late tae mend, but ye 'ill maybe juist say to the fouk that I
wes sorry, an' a'm houpin' that the Almichty 'ill hae mercy on me.

"Cud ye ... pit up a bit prayer, Paitrick?"

"A' haena the words," said Drumsheugh in great distress; "wud ye like's
tae send for the minister?"

"It's