then she rocked back and forward, as if to make it sleep, hushing it, and wasting on it her infinite fondness. "Wae's me, doctor; I declare she's thinkin' it's that bairn." "What bairn?" "The only bairn we ever had; our wee Mysie, and she's in the Kingdom forty years 5 and mair." It was plainly true: the pain in the breast, telling its urgent story to a bewildered, ruined brain, was misread and mistaken; it suggested to her the child; and so again once more they were together, and she had her ain wee Mysie in her bosom. This was the close. She sank rapidly; the delirium left her; but, as she whispered, she was "clean silly"; it was the lightening before the final darkness. After having for some time lain still, her eyes shut, she said, "James!" He came close to her, and lifting up her 15 calm, clear, beautiful eyes, she gave him a long look, turned to me kindly but shortly, looked for Rab but could not see him, then turned to her husband again, as if she would never leave off looking, shut her eyes, and composed herself. She lay for some time breathing 20 quick, and passed away so gently that when we thought she was gone, James, in his old-fashioned way, held the mirror to her face. After a long pause, one small spot of dimness was breathed out; it vanished away and never returned, leaving the blank clear darkness of the 25 mirror without a stain. "What is our life? it is even a vapor, which appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. وو Rab all this time had been full awake and motionless; he came forward beside us: Ailie's hand, which James 30 had held, was hanging down; it was soaked with his tears; Rab licked it all over carefully, looked at her, and returned to his place under the table. James and I sat, I don't know how long, but for some 10 time, saying nothing; he started up abruptly, and with some noise went to the table, and putting his right fore and middle fingers each into a shoe, pulled them out, and put them on, breaking one of the leather latchets, and muttering, in anger, "I never did the like o' that s afore !" I believe he never did; nor after either. "Rab!" he said, roughly, and pointing with his thumb to the bottom of the bed. Rab leaped up and settled himself, his head and eye to the dead face. "Maister John, ye'll wait 10 for me," said the carrier, and disappeared in the darkness, thundering down-stairs in his heavy shoes. I ran to a front window; there he was, already round the house, and out at the gate, fleeing like a shadow. I was afraid about him, and yet not afraid; so I sat 15 down beside Rab, and being wearied, fell asleep. I awoke from a sudden noise outside. It was November, and there had been a heavy fall of snow. Rab was in statu quo; he heard the noise too, and plainly knew it, but never moved. I looked out; and there, at the 20 gate, in the dim morning-for the sun was not up—was Jess and the cart, a cloud of steam rising from the old mare. I did not see James; he was already at the door, and came up the stairs, and met me. It was less than three hours since he left, and he must have posted out 25 -who knows how-to Howgate, full nine miles off, yoked Jess, and driven her astonished into town. He had an armful of blankets, and was streaming with perspiration. He nodded to me, spread out on the floor two pairs of clean old blankets, having at their corners 30 "A. G., 1794," in large letters in red worsted. These were the initials of Alison Græme, and James may have looked in at her from without-himself unseen but not unthought of-when he was "wat, wat, and weary," and after having walked many a mile over the hills may have seen her sitting, while "a' the lave were sleepin'," and by the firelight working her name on the blankets for her ain James's bed. He motioned Rab down, and taking his wife in his arms, laid her in the blankets, and happed her carefully and firmly up, leaving the face uncovered; and then lifting her, he nodded again sharply to me, and with a resolved but utterly miserable face strode along the passage, and down-stairs, followed by Rab. I followed 10 with a light; but he didn't need it. I went out, holding stupidly the candle in my hand in the calm frosty air; we were soon at the gate. I could have helped him, but I saw he was not to be meddled with, and he was strong, and did not need it. He laid her down as ten-15 derly, as safely, as he had lifted her out ten days before-as tenderly as when he had her first in his arms when she was only "A. G."-sorted her, leaving that beautiful sealed face open to the heavens; and then taking Jess by the head, he moved away. He did not no-20 tice me, neither did Rab, who presided behind the cart. I stood till they passed through the long shadow of the College, and turned up Nicolson Street. I heard the solitary cart sound through the streets, and die away and come again; and I returned, thinking of that com-25 pany going up Libberton Brae, then along Roslin Muir, the morning light touching the Pentlands, and making them like on-looking ghosts; then down the hill through Auchindinny woods, past "haunted Woodhouselee"; and as daybreak came sweeping up the bleak Lammermuirs, 30 and fell on his own door, the company would stop, and James would take the key and lift Ailie up again, laying her on her own bed, and having put Jess up, would return with Rab and shut the door. 5 James buried his wife, with his neighbors mourning, Rab inspecting the solemnity from a distance. It was snow, and that black ragged hole would look strange in the midst of the swelling spotless cushion of white. James looked after everything; then rather suddenly fell ill, and took to bed; was insensible when the doctor came, and soon died. A sort of low fever was prevailing in the village, and his want of sleep, his exhaustion, and his misery made him apt to take it. The grave was not difficult to reopen. A fresh fall of snow had again made all things white and smooth; Rab once more looked on, and slunk home to the stable. 66 5 10 And what of Rab? I asked for him next week of the new carrier who got the good-will of James's business, and was now master of Jess and her cart. How's 15 Rab?" He put me off, and said, rather rudely, "What's your business wi' the dowg?" I was not to be so put off. "Where's Rab?" He, getting confused and red, and intermeddling with his hair, said, "Deed, sir, Rab's deid." "Dead! what did he die of?" "Weel, sir," said 20 he, getting redder, "he didna exactly dee; he was killed. I had to brain him wi' a rack-pin; there was nae doin' wi' him. He lay in the treviss" wi' the mear, and wadna come oot. I tempet him wi' kail and meat, but he wad tak' naething, and keepit me frae feedin' the beast, and 25 he was aye gur gurrin', and grup gruppin' me by the legs. I was laith to make awa wi' the auld dowg-his like wasna atween this and Thornhill-but, 'deed, sir, I could do naething else." I believed him. Fit end for Rab, quick and complete. His teeth and his friends 30 gone, why should he keep the peace, and be civil? XLII. THE BATTLE OF BEAL' AN DUINE. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. THE Minstrel' came once more to view Upon her eyry nods the erne," The deer has sought the brake; Is it the thunder's solemn sound That mutters deep and dread, Is it the lightning's quivering glance Or do they flash on spear and lance I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 10 15 20 25 5 That up the lake comes winding far! 1 |