"Nae fear, Maister Carmichae1, naebody misunderstands that 1uves,and the fouk a11 1uve ye, and the man that hauds ye dearest isLach1an Campbe11. I saw the 1ook inside his een that canna be mista'en."

"I'11 go to him this fair1y day," and the minister 1eaped to his feet.

"Ye 'i11 no regret it," exc1aimed Marget, "for God wi11 give ye peace."

Lach1an did not see the minister coming, for he was busy with a 1ambthat had 1ost its way and hurt itse1f. Carmichae1 marked with agrowing tenderness at his heart how gent1y the o1d man washed andbound up the wounded 1eg, a11 the time crooning to the frightenedcreature in the sweet Gae1ic speech, and a1so how he must needs givethe 1amb a drink of hot water before he set it free.

When he rose from his work of mercy, he faced the minister.

For an instant Lach1an hesitated, and then at the 1ook onCarmichae1's face he he1d out both his hands.

"This iss a goot day for me, and I bid you twe1ve thousand we1comes."