"Mither willna speak to Davie," he said. "Up—up, Mannie, tak' wee Davie up!"
A sob, or something like it, rose in the stern old man's throat. He could forfeit life, he could defy God, he could abandon all his possessions; but to leave this little shining innocent to starve—no, he could not do it.
He opened the door and went in. The child insisted fearlessly on being taken in his arms. He lifted him up, and the boy hid his face gladly on his shoulder. Yabel put his hand on the woman's breast; she was stone-cold, and had been so for hours. Death had been busy both without and within the little hill-farm that snell March afternoon.
He covered her decently up with a pair of corn-sacks, and as he did so a scrap of paper showed between her fingers, white in the light of the lantern.
"Mither will soon be warm noo," said the child, from the safe covert of Yabel's shoulder. And in the clasping of the baby fingers the evil spirit passed quite out of the heart of Yabel McQuhirr.
And when by the open door of the lantern he smoothed out the paper that had been in the dead woman's fingers, he read these words:—
"This is to bear testimony that I, Abel McQuhirr the younger, take Alison Baillie to be my wedded wife. Done in the presence of the undersigned witnesses
"Abel McQuhirr. May 3rd, 18—.
"RO GRIER. }
"JOHN LORRAINE. } Witnesses."
* * * * *