"He's a waesome sicht the nicht, but Saunders wes a buirdly man aince,
and wull never lat his life be taken lichtly frae him. Na, na, he hesna
sinned against Nature, and Nature 'ill stand by him noo in his oor o'
distress.

"A' daurna say yea, Bell, muckle as a' wud like, for this is an evil
disease, cunnin, an' treacherous as the deevil himsel', but a' winna say
nay, sae keep yir hert frae despair.

"It wull be a sair fecht, but it 'ill be settled one wy or anither by
sax o'clock the morn's morn. Nae man can prophecee hoo it 'ill end, but
ae thing is certain, a'll no see deith tak a Drumtochty man afore his
time if a' can help it.

"Noo, Bell ma wumman, yir near deid wi' tire, an' nae wonder. Ye've dune
a' ye cud for yir man, an' ye'll lippen (trust) him the nicht tae
Drumsheugh an' me; we 'ill no fail him or you.

"Lie doon an' rest, an' if it be the wull o' the Almichty a'll wauken ye
in the mornin' tae see a livin' conscious man, an' if it be ither-wise
a'll come for ye the suner, Bell," and the big red hand went out to the
anxious wife. "A' gie ye ma word."

Bell leant over the bed, and at the sight of Saunders' face a
superstitious dread seized her.

"See, doctor, the shadow of deith is on him that never lifts. A've seen
it afore, on ma father an' mither. A' canna leave him, a' canna leave
him."