It seemed twelve hours instead of one when the door swung back, and
MacLure filled the doorway, preceded by a great burst of light, for the
sun had arisen on the snow.

[Illustration: "MA AIN DEAR MAN"]

His face was as tidings of great joy, and Elspeth told me that there was
nothing like it to be seen that afternoon for glory, save the sun itself
in the heavens.

"A' never saw the marrow o't, Tammas, an' a'll never see the like again;
it's a' ower, man, withoot a hitch frae beginnin' tae end, and she's
fa'in' asleep as fine as ye like."

"Dis he think Annie ... 'ill live?"

"Of coorse he dis, and be aboot the hoose inside a month; that's the gud
o' bein' a clean-bluided, weel-livin'----"

"Preserve ye, man, what's wrang wi' ye? it's a mercy a' keppit ye, or we
wud hev hed anither job for Sir George.

"Ye're a richt noo; sit doon on the strae. A'll come back in a whilie,
an' ye i'll see Annie juist for a meenut, but ye maunna say a word."
Marget took him in and let him kneel by Annie's bedside.

He said nothing then or afterwards, for speech came only once in his
lifetime to Tammas, but Annie whispered, "Ma ain dear man."