“No, you will not be needed at Holmes's to-night, and you've had enough of it, Jinks. I've got a nurse, and Holmes is coming round first rate. It's all right about paying the nurse; I'll see to that Man, ye would pay for all the nurses in the district, if ye were allowed. “Me, I'm as fit as a fiddle. Doctors can't afford to be ill; but you're no the thing, Jinks. Come back to the manse with me this minute, I want to have a look at ye. Yon were three hard nichts ye had”--the Doctor dropped into Scots when he was excited.... “Sir Andrew's gone, and I wish we had better news for you and ourselves. Don't thank me for telling the truth; no man would tell you a lie. ... You're all right, whatever happens, Jinks,” and he dropped his hand within reach of the Father's, on whose face the shadow was fast falling. “It will not be for some hours, may be not till morning, and I hope you'll not suffer much... I'll come back after the minister has left and stay with you till, till...” “Daybreak,” said Jinks. “Doctor,” Jinks whispered, during the night as they watched by his bed, the Scot on one side and Peter, who would allow no nurse, on the other, “the Scots kirk has seemed to me... as Samaria, but the Lord chose... a Samaritan in His parable, and you are...that Samaritan,” and the Father looked at the Doctor with eyes full of love. Just before sunrise he glanced at the Doctor enquiringly. “Yes, it's no far off now, an' the worst's past. Ye'll have an easy passage.” They passed each an arm round his neck, and each took one of his hands. “Till Jesus comes Himself,” whispered Jinks, thanking them with his eyes. “O Saviour of the world, who by Thy cross and precious blood hast redeemed us, save us, and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.” This which he had often offered for others, he now prayed for himself very slowly. The light stole into the room and woke him from a brief unconsciousness. “I believe”... he said, “in the Life Everlasting,” and the soul of the faithful servant was with the Lord, Whom, not having seen, he had loved. When the Doctor left the Vicarage, although still very early, Bags, the choir-boy, was on the doorstep and was weeping bitterly. THE PASSING OF DOMSIE It was an ancient custom that Domsie and Drumsheugh should dine with Doctor Davidson in the Manse after the distribution of prizes at the school, and his companions both agreed afterwards that the Dominie was never more cheerful than on those days. There was always a review of stories when the Doctor and Domsie brought out their favourites, with Drumsheugh for an impartial and appreciative audience, and every little addition or improvement was noted in a spirit of appreciative criticism.