"Here ye've been negleckin' the fouk in seeckness an' lettin' themdee afore their freends' eyes withoot a fecht, an' refusin' tae gangtae a puir wumman in her tribble, an' frichtenin' the bairns--no,a'm no dune--and scourgin' us wi' fees, and livin' yersel on the fato' the land.

"Ye've been carryin' on this trade ever sin yir father dee'd, andthe Glen didna notis. But ma word, they've fund ye oot at laist, an'they're gaein' tae mak ye suffer for a' yir ill usage. Div yeunderstand noo?" exclaimed Jamie, savagely.

For a while MacLure was silent, and then he only exclaimed:

"It's little a' did for the puir bodies; but ye hev a gude hert,Jamie, a rael good hert."

It really was a bitter December Sabbath, and the fathers were settling theaffairs of the parish ankle deep in snow, when MacLure's oldhousekeeper told Drumsheugh that the doctor was not able to rise,and wished to look at him in the afternoon.

"Ay, ay," exclaimed Hillocks, shaking his head, and that day Drumsheughomitted four pews with the ladle, while Jamie was so vicious on theway home that none could endure him.

Janet had lit a fire in the unused grate, and hung a plaid by thewindow to break the power of the cruel north wind, but the bare chamberwith its half-a-dozen bits of furniture and a worn strip of carpet,and the outlook upon the snow drifted up to the second pane of thewindow and the yellow firs laden with their icy burden, sent a chillto Drumsheugh's heart.