spentacle o' God riding on the tempest, to be shure, whilk would be what

Dauvit was likely ettling at. But, man, they were sair wonders that God

showed to the _Christ-Anna_--wonders, do I ca' them? Judgments, rather:

judgments in the mirk nicht among the draygons o' the deep. And their

souls--to think o' that--their souls, man, maybe no prepared! The sea--a

muckle yett to hell!'

I observed, as my uncle spoke, that his voice was unnaturally moved and

his manner unwontedly demonstrative. He leaned forward at these last

words, for example, and touched me on the knee with his spread fingers,

looking up into my face with a certain pallor, and I could see that his

eyes shone with a deep-seated fire, and that the lines about his mouth

were drawn and tremulous.

Even the entrance of Rorie, and the beginning of our meal, did not detach

him from his train of thought beyond a moment. He condescended, indeed,

to ask me some questions as to my success at college, but I thought it

was with half his mind; and even in his extempore grace, which was, as

usual, long and wandering, I could find the trace of his preoccupation,

praying, as he did, that God would 'remember in mercy fower puir,

feckless, fiddling, sinful creatures here by their lee-lane beside the

great and dowie waters.'

Soon there came an interchange of speeches between him and Rorie.

'Was it there?' asked my uncle.

'Ou, ay!' said Rorie.

I observed that they both spoke in a manner of aside, and with some show

of embarrassment, and that Mary herself appeared to colour, and looked

down on her plate. Partly to show my knowledge, and so relieve the party

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