"Nae fear, Maister Carmichael, naebody misunderstands that luves,and the fouk all luve ye, and the man that hauds ye dearest isLachlan Campbell. I saw the look in his een that canna be mista'en."

"I'll go to him this very day," and the minister leaped to his feet.

"Ye 'ill no regret it," exclaimed Marget, "for God will give ye peace."

Lachlan did not see the minister coming, for he was busy with a lambthat had lost its way and hurt itself. Carmichael marked with agrowing tenderness at his heart how gently the very aged man washed andbound up the wounded leg, all the time crooning to the frightenedcreature in the sweet Gaelic speech, and also how he must needs givethe lamb a drink of warm water before he set it free.

When he rose from his work of mercy, he faced the minister.

For an instant Lachlan hesitated, and then at the look onCarmichael's face he held out both his arms.

"This iss a goot day for me, and I bid you twelve thousand welcomes."