There was only one drift on the road between his cottage and the
kirkyard, and it had been cut early that morning. Before daybreak
Saunders had roused the lads in the bothy, and they had set to work by
the light of lanterns with such good will that, when Drumsheugh came
down to engineer a circuit for the funeral, there was a fair passage,
with walls of snow twelve feet high on either side.

[Illustration.]

"Man, Saunders," he said, "this wes a kind thocht, and rael weel dune."

But Saunders' only reply was this: "Mony a time he's hed tae gang
round; he micht as weel hae an open road for his last traivel."

[Illustration: "STANDING AT THE DOOR"]

When the coffin was laid down at the mouth of the grave, the only
blackness in the white kirkyard, Tammas Mitchell did the most beautiful
thing in all his life. He knelt down and carefully wiped off the snow
the wind had blown upon the coffin, and which had covered the name,
and when he had done this he disappeared behind the others, so that
Drumsheugh could hardly find him to take a cord. For these were the
eight that buried Dr. MacLure--Lord Kilspindie at the head as landlord
and Drumsheugh at his feet as his friend; the two ministers of the
parish came first on the right and left; then Burnbrae and Hillocks of
the farmers, and Saunders and Tammas for the plowmen. So the Glen he
loved laid him to rest.

When the bedrel had finished his work and the turf had been spread, Lord