Looking up, Doctor Fleming saw the tears on the sick man’s cheek. That was all he was permitted to say for the time, for his strength was not great though his will was strong. The rest of the day was passed between sleeping and waking, while Allison sat working in silence by the window. But he returned to his declaration in the morning.
“Yes, I mean to live, but for a’ that I may as well be prepared for death. And you’ll send Mr Rainy to me this very day. He must just come while I need him—and when I’m at my best and able for him. I’ll die none the sooner for setting all things in order to my mind.”
So the next day Mr Rainy came, and for a good many days, and went through with him many matters of business, which must be attended to whether he lived or died. He was quite fit for it—a little at a time—Mr Rainy declared. But the doctor wondered that his strength held out through it all. There was no evidence of failure in sense or judgment in all he said or planned, though his memory sometimes was at fault.
There was much to do, and some of it was not of a nature to give either peace or pleasure to the sick man. But it came to an end at last, and there were a few days of quiet till he was rested. Then he began again.
“I may be going to die, or I may be going to live. Who can say? It must be as God wills. But I have settled with myself one thing. Whether I am to live or to die, it is to be in my own house.”
This was said to Dickson, who was ready with an answer to please him.
“And the sooner the better, sir, say I. The fine fresh air o’ the hills would set you up sooner than a’ their doctor’s bottles is like to do. If it were only May instead of November, I would say the sooner the better.”
“And I say the sooner the better at this time. Yes, it’s late, and it’s a lang road, and I have little strength to come and go upon. But there are ways o’ doing most things—when the siller (money) needna be considered, and where there is a good will to do them.”
“Ay, sir, that’s true. And I daresay the laird micht send his ain carriage, and ye micht tak’ twa days to it, or even three.”
“No, no. The sooner the journey could be gotten over the better. But that’s a good thought o’ yours about the laird’s carriage. He’ll send it fast enough, if I but ask it. But I’m done out now, and I’ll need to lie still a while, to be ready and at my best, when the doctor comes.”