ow sickness can bring
a pooerfu' man, an' ocht tae keep us frae pride."

"A month syne there wesna a stronger man in the Glen than Saunders, an'
noo he wes juist a bundle o' skin and bone, that naither saw nor heard,
nor moved nor felt, that kent naethin' that was dune tae him.

"Hillocks, a' wudna hae wished ony man tae hev seen Saunders--for it
wull never pass frae before ma een as long as a' live--but a' wish a'
the Glen hed stude by MacLure kneelin' on the floor wi' his sleeves up
tae his oxters and waitin' on Saunders.

"Yon big man wes as pitifu' an' gentle as a wumman, and when he laid the
puir fallow in his bed again, he happit him ower as a mither dis her
bairn."

Thrice it was done, Drumsheugh ever bringing up colder water from the
spring, and twice MacLure was silent; but after the third time there was
a gleam in his eye.

"We're haudin' oor ain; we're no bein' maistered, at ony rate; mair a'
canna say for three oors.

"We 'ill no need the water again, Drumsheugh; gae oot and tak a breath
o' air; a'm on gaird masel."

It was the hour before daybreak, and Drumsheugh wandered through fields
he had trodden since childhood. The cattle lay sleeping in the pastures;
their shadowy forms, with a patch of whiteness here and there, having a
weird suggestion of death. He heard the burn running over the stones;
fifty years ago he had made a dam that lasted till winter. The hooting
of an owl made him start; one had frightened him as a boy so that he ran
home to his mother--she died thirty years ago. The smell of ripe corn
filled the air; it would soon be cut and garnered. He could see the dim
outlines of his house, all dark and cold; no one he loved was beneath
the roof. The lighted window in Saunders' cottage told where a man hung
between life and death, but love was in that home. The futility of life
arose before this lonely man, and overcame his heart with an
indescribable sadness. What a vanity was all human labour, what a
mystery all human life.

[Illustration]

But while he stood, subtle change came over the night, and the air
trembled round him as if one had whispered. Drumsheugh lifted his head
and looked eastwards. A faint grey stole over the distant horizon, and
suddenly a cloud reddened before his eyes. The sun was not in sight, but
was rising, and sending forerunners before his face. The cattle began
to stir, a blackbird burst into song, and before Drumsheugh crossed the
threshold of Saunders' hous