if we could hear the sound of oars in the distance, for we should not be
able to see the boat till it was close upon us, so dense had the fog
become.

'Dear me,' my grandfather kept saying anxiously, 'I wish he would come!'

My thoughts went back to the bright sunny morning when Jem Millar had
started, and we had heard him singing, as he went, those two lines of
the hymn,--

'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.'

The time passed on. Would he never come? We grew more and more anxious.
Mrs. Millar's servant-girl came running down to say her mistress wanted
to know if we could hear anything yet.

'No,' my grandfather said, 'nothing yet, my lass; but it can't be long
now.'

'Missis is so poorly,' said the girl; 'I think she's got a cold: she
shakes all over, and she keeps fretting so.'

'Poor soul! well, perhaps it's better so.'

'Whatever do you mean, grandfather?' I asked.

'Why, if aught's amiss, she won't be so taken aback as if she wasn't
afraid; and if Jem's all right, why, she'll only be the better pleased.'