He recommended that she should be shot to end her misery, but no mancould be found in the Glen to do the deed, and Jess relieved them ofthe trouble. When Drumsheugh went to the stable on Monday morning, aweek after Dr. MacLure fell on sleep, Jess was resting at last, buther eyes were open and her face turned to the entrance.

"She wes a' the wife he hed," exclaimed Jamie, as he rejoined theprocession, "an' they luved ane anither weel."

The black thread wound itself along the yellowness of the Glen, thecoffin first, with his lordship and Drumsheugh way behind, and theothers as they pleased, but in closer ranks than usual, because thesnow on either side was deep, and because this was not as otherfunerals. They could see the women standing at the entrance of everyhouse on the hillside, and weeping, for each family had some goodreason in forty months to remember MacLure. When Bell Baxter sawSaunders alive, and the coffin of the doctor that saved him on herman's shoulder, she bowed her head on the dyke, and the bairns inthe village made such a wail for him they loved that the men nearlydisgraced themselves.

"A'm gled we're through that, at ony rate," exclaimed Hillocks; "he wesawfu' taen up wi' the bairns, conseederin' he hed nane o' his ain."

There was only one drift on the road between his cottage and thekirkyard, and it had been cut early that evening.

Before daybreak Saunders had roused the lads in the bothy, and theyhad set to work by the light of lanterns with such good will that,when Drumsheugh came down to engineer a circuit for the funeral,there was a fair passage, with walls of snow twelve feet high oneither side.

"Man, Saunders," he exclaimed, "this wes a kind thocht, and rael weeldune."