"My Lord and my God!"
"Herein indeed is love, not that I loved God, but that he loved me."
"Tell grannie," he said, "her and my mother's prayers are answered now, even to me, the chief of sinners. Sing to me, Master Macintosh, once more the psalm I used to sing wi' grannie, and at the kirk, with the high hills around—'The Lord's my shepherd.'"
And when Ronald came to the words, "Yea, though I walk through death's dark vale, yet will I fear none ill: for thou art with me—" a feeble voice broke in, in the lad's native tongue, "That's so, that's so."
One deep-drawn breath, and the soul of the Highland laddie was with the Lord.
They buried him in an old London grave-yard around which the hum of busy life was perpetually heard; far from home and kindred he lay, miles and miles away from the calm quiet of the grand old hills which overshadowed his childhood's home. A single stone, put up by Ronald, marked his resting-place, and on it were the words, "With the Lord."
There were tears shed in the quiet hut over the letter which told of the death of the wandering one; but they were not all bitter: joy mingled with the grief—the erring child was at rest now in the Father's house above.
"The Lord is a promise-keeping God," said the old woman. "The Good Shepherd has gone into the wilderness after the lost sheep, and borne it safely back to the fold. For ever blessed be his holy name. And may his blessing rest on the head of the young lad who sought him out, and soothed his lonely dying bed, by telling him of that hidden treasure which is better than gold and above rubies."
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE COUSINS.
"From that day I knew him—
Christ, my Priest and King,
Father, Friend, Physician—
Can I cease to sing?
Nay, until he call me
From my work below,
I will tell his praises
Wheresoe'er I go."