by your leave, and were a lawyer, and I had the filling of my situations, I would nominate Aldour-he would hold them without partiality and without hypocrisy.'

'Why did you not keep them yourself, and do the best for them you could, Roderick Finralia? They may fall into improper hands; they may be farmed like the French taxes, and greatly abused.'

Finralia bowed to the implied compliment; a slight bow to a slight inferential expression of respect and appreciation. 'I have enough to do to set my house in order,' he explained with a grave smile. 'I must complete my work with speed; because I believe I will not continue long in Finralia.'

'Not continue in Finralia, after we have stayed on in Aldour? Not continue in Finralia now?'

Finralia reddened. 'I have done what a man could,' he said, in a low voice. I would have trodden out the past, and established a better memorial, as you bade me; but don't press me too far, there are bounds to a man's endurance. Ussie would not have asked too much of me; but you-you don't know what you demand. I said long ago that you were an arrogant, extortionate woman, Mary Aldour.'

'And what will you do?'

'I will never fling myself from the old castle wall, or leap into the Black Pool, in spite of Werter's example, that is out of the question. I will play the coward's part, and fly.'

It was Mary's turn to play the coward's part; not that she retreated, but she cowered, and quivered, and coloured all over at his words, as if smitten with sudden anguish.

C

CHAPTER XXIII.

'A WOMAN'S CHOICE.'

WOOD Lord!' cried Aldour, as reverently and fervently as he had ever spoken in his life, there is dule enough in the Country this day. Some of these reckless Finralias went out five days ago hunting in the snow, making a rallying-point of the old keeper's hut on their side of the crags of Ben Falloch. They should have been back on the third day, when their provisions were exhausted, but they did not reappear; and Finralia followed them yesterday morning, and he has not been seen or heard of since. But the blast, and the swirl, and the drift have blown boisterously for the last twelve hours in that very quarter, and God knows, they may have all perished by this date, Finralia among the rest of them. There is not a man in the Country so wise, firm, and surefooted, and so well acquainted with every inch of the ground as poor, miscalled Finralia; and if his strength and sagacity failed to discern and disentangle his men

yesterday, there is small chance that any fresh succour will reach them living men, or dig them out corpses and drag them down to-day.'

The glens were dead in winter, and such a blast had raged over their sepulchre during the last night as Mary had wished to hear in the pleasant summer weather, to bear her bewildered heart and conscience, mind and will, congenial company. And such were the tidings which the wind and sleet carried to her, such was the deed they had accomplished.

All the women looked up with blank horror in their faces, and then they began to exclaim in poignant pity and distress; only one sat still as stone with the frozen hue and attitude of despair. None of the others noticed Mary particularly, except Anne; perhaps none else guessed her state from sympathy; for busy mothers and younger sisters are not always the best judges in these cases. Anne ventured at last to whisper a single sentence of tender commiseration, 'Don't believe it yet, Mary; wait and pray, dearest Mary.' But Mary was not the woman to receive commiseration, unless after long agony, unless brought very low by a fight of affliction. She was the woman to turn at bay naturally with her sorrow, to cover her wound with her hand, and step out bravely as before.

'What do you say, Anne?' she asked aloud, with the slightest perceptible dulness in her clear voice. I have no doubt Finralia will do well; he is so strong, and young, you know; and if he dies, he has

found the most gallant death of any Finralia I ever heard tell of.'

Hold your tongue, Mary,' cried Aldour, angrily. 'How can you even the lad to such a fate yet? The Lord may bring him through safe and sound, above all since he has exposed himself for others. I hate to hear any one show a want of common feeling, and I declare you have done it, girl, though you might not mean it.'

Aldour was not so meek that he did not resent Mary Aldour's heartless indifference to the horrible danger and uncertain situation of their neighbour and his friend. He could do very little under the circumstances without uselessly endangering more life. He could only toil, up to his knees, half blinded, to an eminence which ordinarily commanded the widest view in the direction of Ben Falloch; despatch scouts down the open roads of the glens to obtain the latest intelligence; and eagerly plan setting out himself and examining the whole district when the gale, already on the decline, was further fallen, and the new day dawned fearfully on a faint hope of attaining his end.

All the time Aldour relieved himself by wasting a great deal of wit on Mary, covertly reproaching her for unbecoming intolerance to Finralia, summing up in an aggrieved tone poor Finralia's merits-what a fine fellow he had proved himself-repeating with emphasis thatt he Country would now discover that, notwithstanding miserable precedents, it had not held