He found him in one of his gloomy moods, which however were much less frequent than they had been.
"Hoo are ye, auld frien'?" said Cupples.
"Auld as ye say, sir, and nae muckle farrer on nor whan I begud. I whiles think I hae profited less than onybody I ken. But eh, sir, I wad be sorry, gin I was you, to dee afore I had gotten a glimp o' the face o' God."
"Hoo ken ye that I haena gotten a glimp o' that same?"
"Ye wad luik mair solemn like," answered Thomas.
"Maybe I wad," responded Cupples, seriously.
"Man, strive to get it. Gie Him no rist, day nor nicht, till ye get it.
Knock, knock, knock, till it be opened till ye."
"Weel, Thomas, ye dinna seem sae happy yersel', efter a'. Dinna ye think ye may be like ane that's tryin' to see the face o' whilk ye speyk throu a crack i' the door, in place o' haein patience till it's opened?"
But the suggestion was quite lost upon Thomas, who, after a gloomy pause, went on.
"Sin's sic an awfu' thing," he began; when the door opened, and in walked James Dow.