of myself. The fact is, I'm not fit for such company, and I don't believe there is any such place. But if there be, I trust in God there isn't any other, or it will go badly with your poor master, Malcolm. It doesn't look like true—now does it? Only such a multitude of things I thought I had done with forever keep coming up and grinning at me. It nearly drives me mad, Malcolm; and I would fain die like a gentleman, with a cool bow and a sharp face-about."
"Wadna ye hae a word wi' somebody 'at kens, my lord ?" said Malcolm, scarcely able to reply.
"No," answered the marquis fiercely. "That Cairns is a fool."
"He's a' that, an' mair, my lord. I didna mean him."
"They're all fools together."
"Ow, na, my lord. There's a heap o' them no muckle better, it may be; but there's guid men an' true amang them, or the Kirk wad hae been wi' Sodom and Gomorrah by this time. But it's no a minister I wad hae yer lordship confar wi'."
"Who, then? Mrs. Courthope, eh?"
"Ow na, my lord—no Mistress Courthoup. She's a guid body, but she wadna believe her ain een gien onybody ca'd a minister said contrar' to them."
"Who the devil do you mean, then?"
"Nae deevil, but an honest man 'at 's been his warst enemy sae lang 's I hae kent him—Maister Graham, the schuil maister."
"PoohI" said the marquis with a puff. " I'm too old to go to school."
"I dinna ken the man 'at isna a bairn till him, my lord."
"In Greek and Latin?"
"I' richteousness an' trouth, my lord—in what's been an' what is to be."
"What! has he the second sight, like the piper?"
"He has the second sicht, my lord, but ane 'at gangs a sicht farther nor my auld daddy's."
"He could tell me, then, what's going to become of me?"
"As weel 's ony man, my lord."
"That's not saying much, I fear."
"Maybe mair nor ye think, my lord."
"Well, take him my compliments and tell him I should like to see him," said the marquis after a minute's silence.
"He'll come direckly, my lord."
"Of course he will," said the marquis.
"Jist as readily, my lord, as he wad gang to ony tramp 'at sent for 'im at sic a time," returned Malcolm, who did not relish either the remark or its tone.
"What do you mean by that? You don't think it such a serious affair, do you?"
"My lord, ye haena a chance."
The marquis was dumb. He had actually begun once more to buoy himself up with earthly hopes.
Dreading a recall of his commission, Malcolm slipped from the room, sent Mrs. Courthope to take his place, and sped to the schoolmaster. The moment Mr. Graham heard the marquis's message he rose without a word and led the way from the cottage. Hardly a sentence passed between them as they went, for they were on a solemn errand.
"Mr. Graham's here, my lord," said Malcolm.
"Where? Not in the room?" returned the marquis.
"Waitin' at the door, my lord."
"Bah! You needn't have been so ready. Have you told the sexton to get a new spade? But you may let him in; and leave him alone with me."
Mr. Graham walked gently up to the bedside.
"Sit down, sir," said the marquis courteously, pleased with the calm, self-possessed, unobtrusive bearing of the man. "They tell me I'm dying, Mr. Graham."
"I'm sorry it seems to trouble you, my lord."
"What! wouldn't it trouble you, then?"
"I don't think so, my lord."
"Ah! you're one of the elect, no doubt?"
"That's a thing I never did think about, my lord."
"What do you think about, then?"
"About God."
"And when you die you'll go straight to heaven, of course?"
"I don't know, my lord. That's an-
