tried. Before
Peter's tumbler was mixed she was standing on the stone across the
dyer's _dam_, looking down into the water which had risen far up the
perpendicular sides of its rocky conduit. Across the stone the water
from the street above was pouring into the Glamour.

"Tibbie," she said, as she entered the cottage, "I doobt there's gaun
to be a terrible spate."

"Lot it come," cried Tibbie. "The bit hoosie's fund't upon a rock, and
the rains may fa', and the wins may blaw, and the floods may ca at the
hoosie, but it winna fa', it canna fa', for it's fund't upo' a rock."

Perhaps Tibbie's mind was wandering a little, for when Annie entered,
she found her face flushed, and her hands moving restlessly. But what
with this assurance of her confidence, and the pleasure of being with
her again, Annie thought no more about the waters of the Glamour.

"What keepit ye sae lang, lassie?" said Tibbie wearily after a moment's
silence, during which Annie had been redisposing the peats to get some
light from the fire.

She told her the whole story.

"And hae ye had nae supper?"

"Na. But I dinna want ony."

"Pit aff yer weet claes than, and come to yer bed."

Annie crept into the bed beside her--not dry even then, for she was
forced to retain her last garment. Tibbie was restless, and kept
moaning, so that neither of them could sleep. And the water kept
sweeping on faster, and rising higher up the rocky mound on which the
cottage stood. The old woman and the young girl lay within and listened
fearless.

CHAPTER LXIII.

Alec too lay awake and listened to the untiring rain. Weary of the
house, he had made use of the missionar kirk to get out of it, and had
been one of Mr Turnbull's congregation that night. Partly because his
mind was unoccupied by any fear from without, for he only laughed at
the prophecy, something in that sermon touched him deeper than any one
else in the place perhaps, awoke some old feelings of responsibility
that had been slumbering for a long time, and made him reflect upon an
unquestioned article of his creed--the eternal loss and misery and
torture of the soul that did not repent and believe. At the same time,
what repentance and belief really meant--what he had to do first--he
did not know. All he seemed to know was that he was at that moment in
imminent danger of eternal damnation. And he lay thinking about this
while the rain kept pouring upon the roof out of the thick night
ove