been guarding it.

"This is his last letter, sir," she said, with a touch of honest pride,
as she handed it to me to read. "You will see what he says. He was to
sail on the 14th, and that was about a fortnight ago. Mistress Dobie
had a message to say that he would be there about the first of June.
He has business in Glasgow, which will keep him there a bit."

"It's a kind, friendly letter," I remarked, as I handed it back. "He
speaks very nicely about you all."

"If only for the sake of the bairns, sir, I'm very thankful that we've
foond sae guid a friend," she said with much feeling.

Jeemsie peeped in at the door just then. He was quite a handsome
little chap, with regular features and a rather intelligent face.

"Jeemsie will be provided for now," I said, beckoning the child to me.
He came, shyly smiling, and put his hand in mine.

"Yes, thank God!" was the poor mother's reply. "It's been a trouble to
me to know what to do for him, and especially what'll happen to the
bairn when I'm taken. But Father Fleming says his cousin can put him
to some kind of institution for a year or two, where they can teach him
to read and write and coont as well as any bairn wi' all his senses.
For he's nae daft!" she exclaimed, with motherly pride. "He's just as
sensible as can be aboot most things. He kens as weel as Tam aboot
searching for the eggs, and he loves to fetch water from the well in
his little pail for me, bless him!"