cal. True, they dinna aye ken't. I wad
to God I cud get that sel' o' mine safe aneath the yird, for it jist
torments the life oot o' me wi' its ugly face. Hit and me jist stan's
an' girns at ane anither."

"It'll tak a heap o' Christianity to lay _that_ ghaist, Mr Cupples.
That I ken weel. The lassie wadna be able to do't for ye. It's ower
muckle to expec' o' her or ony mortal woman. For the sowl's a temple
biggit for the Holy Ghost, and no woman can fill't, war she the Virgin
Mary ower again. And till the Holy Ghost comes intil's ain hoose, the
ghaist that ye speak o' winna gang oot."

A huge form towered above the dyke behind them.

"Ye had no richt to hearken, Thomas Crann," said Mr Cupples.

"I beg your pardon," returned Thomas; "I never thoucht o' that. The
soun' was sae bonnie, I jist stud and hearkened. I beg your
pardon.--But that's no the richt thing for the Sawbath day."

"But ye're haein' a walk yersel', it seems, Thomas."

"Ay; but I'm gaun ower the hills to my school. An' I maunna bide to
claver wi' ye, for I hae a guid twa hoors' traivel afore me."

"Come hame wi' us, and hae a mou'fu' o' denner afore ye gang, Thomas,"
said Alec.

"Na, I thank ye. It does the sowl gude to fast a wee ae day in saiven.
I had a piece, though, afore I cam' awa'. What am I braggin' o'! Gude
day to ye."

"That's an honest man, Alec," said Cupples.

"He is," returned Alec. "But he never will do as other people do."

"Perhaps that's the source of his honesty--that he walks by an inward
light," said Cupples thoughtfully.

The year wore on. Alec grew confident. They returned together to their
old quarters. Alec passed his examinations triumphantly, and continued
his studies with greater vigour than before. Especially he walked the
hospitals with much attention and interest, ever warned by Cupples to
beware lest he should come to regard a man as a physical machine, and
so grow a mere doctoring machine himself.

Mr Fraser declined seeing him. The old man was in a pitiable condition,
and indeed never lectured again.

Alec no more frequented his old dismal haunt by the seashore. The cry
of the drowning girl would not have come to him as it would to the more
finely nervous constitution of Mr Cupples; but the cry of a sea-gull,
or the wash of the waves, or even the wind across the tops of the
sand-hills, would have been enough to make him see in every crest which
the wind tore white in the gloamin, the forlorn figure of t