n thus, with wandering thoughts that in their wildest vagaries
were yet tending homeward; and which when least sound, were yet busy
with the wisest of mortal business--repentance. By degrees he fell into
a slumber, and from that, about midnight, into a deeper sleep.

The next morning, Annie went out. She could not feel oppressed or
sorrowful at such a death, and she would walk up the river to the
churchyard where her father lay. The Wan Water was shallow, and
therefore full of talk about all the things that were deep secrets when
its bosom was full. Along great portions of its channel, the dry stones
lay like a sea-beach. They had been swept from the hills in the
torrents of its autumnal fury. The fish did not rise, for the heat made
them languid. No trees sheltered them from the rays of the sun. Both
above and below, the banks were rugged, and the torrent strong; but at
this part the stream flowed through level fields. Here and there a
large piece had cracked off and fallen from the bank, to be swept away
in the next flood; but meantime the grass was growing on it, greener
than anywhere else. The corn would come close to the water's edge and
again sweep away to make room for cattle and sheep; and here and there
a field of red clover lay wavering between shadow and shine. She went
up a long way, and then crossing some fields, came to the churchyard.
She did not know her father's grave, for no stone marked the spot where
he sank in this broken earthy sea. There was no church: its memory even
had vanished. It seemed as if the churchyard had swallowed the church
as the heavenly light shall one day swallow the sun and the moon; and
the lake of divine fire shall swallow death and hell. She lingered a
little, and then set out on her slow return, often sitting down on the
pebbles, sea-worn ages before the young river had begun to play with
them.

Resting thus about half way home, she sang a song which she had found
in her father's old song-book. She had said it once to Alec and Curly,
but they did not care much for it, and she had not thought of it again
till now.

"Ane by ane they gang awa'.
The gatherer gathers great an' sma'.
Ane by ane maks ane an' a'.

Aye whan ane is ta'en frae ane,
Ane on earth is left alane,
Twa in heaven are knit again.

Whan God's hairst is in or lang,
Golden-heidit, ripe, and thrang,
Syne begins a better sang."

She looked up, and Curly was walking throug