cLure, and many were from doctors who had
received new courage. It is surely more honor than a new writer could
ever have deserved to receive the approbation of a profession whose
charity puts us all to shame.

May I take this first opportunity to declare how deeply my heart has
been touched by the favor shown to a simple book by the American people,
and to express my hope that one day it may be given me to see you face
to face.

IAN MACLAREN. Liverpool, Oct. 4, 1895.

THROUGH THE FLOOD.

II

THROUGH THE FLOOD

Doctor MacLure did not lead a solemn procession from the sick bed to
the dining-room, and give his opinion from the hearthrug with an air of
wisdom bordering on the supernatural, because neither the Drumtochty
houses nor his manners were on that large scale. He was accustomed to
deliver himself in the yard, and to conclude his directions with one
foot in the stirrup; but when he left the room where the life of Annie
Mitchell was ebbing slowly away, our doctor said not one word, and at
the sight of his face her husband's heart was troubled.

He was a dull man, Tammas, who could not read the meaning of a sign, and
labored under a perpetual disability of speech; but love was eyes to him
that day, and a mouth.

"Is't as bad as yir lookin', doctor? tell's the truth; wull Annie no
come through?" and Tammas looked MacLure straight in the face, who never
flinched his duty or said smooth things.

"A' wud gie onything tae say Annie hes a chance, but a' daurna; a' doot
yir gaein' tae lose her, Tammas."

MacLure was in the saddle, and as he gave his judgment, he laid his hand
on Tammas's shoulder with one of the rare caresses that pass between
men.

[Illustration: A' DOOT YIR GAEIN' TAE LOSE HER, TAMMAS."]

"It's a sair business, but ye 'ill play the man and no vex Annie;
she 'ill dae her best, a'll warrant."

"An' a'll dae mine," and Tammas gave MacLure's hand a grip that would
have crushed the bones of a weakling. Drumtochty felt in such moments
the brotherliness of this rough-looking man, and loved him.

Tammas hid his face in Jess's mane, who looked round with sorrow in her
beautiful eyes, for she had seen many tragedies, and in this silent
sympathy the stricken man drank his cup, drop by drop.

"A' wesna prepared for this, for a' aye thocht she wud live the
langest.... She's younger than me by ten years, and never wes ill....
We've been mairit twal year laist Martin