After a while he began again:
“Ye're fair dune, Jess, and so a' am masel'; we're baith gettin' auld, an' dinna tak sae weel wi' the nicht wark.
“We 'ill sune be hame noo; this is the black wood, and it's no lang aifter that; we're ready for oor beds, Jess.... ay, ye like a clap at a time; mony a mile we've gaed hegither.
“Yon's the licht in the kitchen window; nae wonder ye're nickering (neighing).... it's been a stiff journey; a'm tired, lass.... a'm tired tae deith,” and the voice died into silence.
Drumsheugh held his friend's hand, which now and again tightened in his, and as he watched, a change came over the face on the pillow beside him. The lines of weariness disappeared, as if God's hand had passed over it; and peace began to gather round the closed eyes.
The doctor has forgotten the toil of later years, and has gone back to his boyhood.
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“The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want,” he repeated, till he came to the last verse, and then he hesitated.
“Goodness and mercy all my life
Shall surely follow me.