had given way,
and he was hopping wildly along. Murdoch Malison saw him, and rushed
upon the falling bridge. He reached the cripple, caught him up in his
strong arms, turned and was half way to the street, when with a swing
and a sweep and a great plash, the remaining half of the bridge reeled
into the current and vanished. Murdoch Malison and Andrew Truffey left
the world each in the other's arms.

Their bodies were never found.

A moment after the fall of the bridge, Robert Bruce, gazing with the
rest at the triumphant torrent, saw the _Bonnie Annie_ go darting past.
Alec was in his shirt-sleeves, facing down the river, with his oars
level and ready to dip. But Bruce did not see Annie in the bottom of
the boat.

"I wonner hoo auld Marget is," he said to his wife the moment he
reached home.

But his wife could not tell him. Then he turned to his two younger
children.

"Bairns," he said, "Annie Anderson's droont. Ay, she's droont," he
continued, as they stared at him with frightened faces. "The Almichty's
taen vengeance upon her for her disobedience, and for brackin' the
Sawbath. See what ye'll come to, bairns, gin ye tak up wi' ill loons,
and dinna min' what's said to ye. _She's_ come to an ill hinner-en'?"

Mrs Bruce cried a little. Robert would have set out at once to see
Margaret Anderson, but there was no possibility of crossing the Wan
Water.

Fortunately for Thomas Crann, James Johnstone, who had reached the
bridge just before the alarm arose, sped to the nearest side, which was
that away from Glamerton. So, having seen the boat go past, with Alec
still safe in it, he was able to set off with the good news for Thomas.
After searching for him at the miller's and at Howglen, he found him
where he had left him, still on his knees, with his hands in the grass.

"Alec's a' safe, man," he cried.

Thomas fell on his face, and he thought he was dead. But he was only
giving lowlier thanks.

James took hold of him after a moment's pause. Thomas rose from the
earth, put his great horny hand, as a child might, into that of the
little weaver, and allowed him to lead him whither he would. He was
utterly exhausted, and it was hours before he spoke.

There was no getting to Glamerton. So James took him to the miller's
for shelter and help, but said nothing about how he had found him. The
miller made Thomas drink a glass of whisky and get into his bed.

"I saw ye, Thamas, upo' yer knees," said he; "but I dauredna