o' her ain to mix't up wi', an' sae has but sma' weicht wi' the
likes o' my gran'father. Only ye winna lat him think ye called on
purpose."

They walked about the churchyard until the sun went down in what Mr
Graham called the grave of his endless resurrection--the clouds
on the one side bearing all the pomp of his funeral, the clouds on
the other all the glory of his uprising; and when now the twilight
trembled filmy on the borders of the dark, the master once more
seated himself beside the new grave, and motioned to Malcolm to
take his place beside him: there they talked and dreamed together
of the life to come, with many wanderings and returns; and little
as the boy knew of the ocean depths of sorrowful experience in the
bosom of his companion whence floated up the breaking bubbles of
rainbow hued thought, his words fell upon his heart--not to be
provender for the birds of flitting fancy and airy speculation,
but the seed--it might be decades ere it ripened--of a coming
harvest of hope. At length the master rose and said, "Malcolm, I'm
going in: I should like you to stay here half an hour alone, and
then go straight home to bed."

For the master believed in solitude and silence. Say rather, he
believed in God. What the youth might think, feel, or judge, he
could not tell; but he believed that when the Human is still, the
Divine speaks to it, because it is its own.

Malcolm consented willingly. The darkness had deepened, the graves
all but vanished; an old setting moon appeared, boatlike over
a great cloudy chasm, into which it slowly sank; blocks of cloud,
with stars between, possessed the sky; all nature seemed thinking