some sleep; an' ane nicht I saw in a dream a woman a' in white, an' she
laid her cool, moist han' on my hot forehead, an' tauld me she would
save me yet. 'It was th' auld enemy that ye forgathered wi' on th' ice,
an' ye are his until ye can kill th' king o' th' geese; an' then ye ken
whaever carries his croun o' black an' white feathers can unnerstand th'
language o' all fowl, an', wha' is more, call them to himsel', sae that
he canna' fail to hae his wull o' them. Then, laddie, ye wull hae earned
yoursel' th' penny-fee for whilk ye hae perilled your saul.

"'But,' said she, 'my ain bairn, when ye hae won the croun, use it na'
at all, though a' the fiends fra' hell tempted ye, but carry it to the
kirkyard at mirk midnight; an' when ye hae cannily lichted a bit bleeze,
burn the king's croun, an' say wha' I shall tell ye. "I gie back more
than I hae taken, an' I rest on Christ's smercy;" an' then shall ye be
safe an' happy if ye fail na' to be constant in gude warks.'

"Then, sirs, the vision faded, an' I woke calmer an' happier than for
many a lang day; an' a few days after, they aye sent me hame, but the
folk say I've a bit bee in my bannet yet. But sin' that time, I hae
hunted a' I can. I get mony birds, an'," lowering his voice, "yesterday
I killed thretty-seven."

A long whistle from the astonished Kennedy broke up the conference, and
the offended lunatic walked angrily away.

"He hasn't had a gun until to-day, to my certain knowledge," said
Kennedy; "and I saw him yesterday afternoon taking aim at a goose that
had lighted among his decoys, along the helve of his axe."

"Well, well! No one believed him, of course; but, for Heaven's sake,
when you express incredulity again, wait until the lie is finished, if I
am in the party!" grumbled La Salle.

"Well, never mind; he got through with the best part of it; and the
great wonder is, how a distempered brain could imagine all that
impossible but well-connected delusion."

"Kennedy," said La Salle, with unusual gravity, "how can we decide that
it is all a delusion? Few men, indeed, have claimed to see the devil, to
whom they sell themselves daily for trifles lighter than the hunter's
meed of unrivaled success; and who can say that the story of yonder
madman is more or less than the fruit of the idle habits and unbridled
temper which burned up happiness, and consumed his reason? There are few
who go mad who would have done so had they at the first governed and
denie