glens. The minister of the little hill kirk had said once that in
England the pastures were green and the lakes still and bright;
but that was a fey, foreign country to which Auld Jock had no
desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, if he would feel at home in
God's heaven, and if there would be room in that lush silence for
a noisy little dog, as there was on the rough Pentland braes. And
there his thoughts came back to this cold prison cell in which he
could not defend the right of his one faithful little friend to
live. He stooped and lifted Bobby into the bed. Humble, and eager
to be forgiven for an offense he could not understand, the loving
little creature leaped to Auld Jock's arms and lavished frantic
endearments upon him.

Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that
was broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his
neighbors. It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled
murmur at the casements, and every other lodger was out, that
Auld Jock slept soundly. He awoke late to find Bobby waiting
patiently on the floor and the bare cell flooded with white
glory. That could mean but one thing. He stumbled dizzily to his
feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of high housetops,
the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, he looked
away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to
heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine.

"The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!" he
cried, with the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift
Bobby to the wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and
roaring around in his head. Staggering back he crumpled up in a
pitiful heap on the floor.