Uncle James has just gone, and the group of elders in the parlour are just drawing their chairs closer together to fill up the gap which his departure has made, when they hear a hasty knock at the door; a hasty, imperative summons, as if from urgent need that would not be denied access, and a dripping messenger stands on the threshold--for the cold rain of winter falls heavily without--begging that Mr. Melville would go with him to see a dying man, a stranger who has taken up his residence for the last few weeks at a small inn in the neighbourhood, and was now, apparently, on the very brink of death, and in a dreadful state of mind. The calls of the sick and dying were as God’s special commands to Halbert; and he rose at once to accompany the messenger, though the faces of his wife and sisters twain, darkened with care as he did so. It was very hard that he should be called away from them on this especial night; and when he firmly declared he would go, Mary whispered to Charles to go with him, and to bring him soon back. The two brothers went away through the storm, and the sisters drew closer to each other round the fire, as the gentlemen left them; then Mrs. Melville told the others how anxious she always was when her husband was called out in this way; how he might be exposed to infection in his visiting of the sick so assiduously as he did; and how, for his health’s sake, she could almost wish he were less faithful and steady in the discharge of these his duties: and Mary looked at her in alarm as she spoke, and turned pale, and half upbraided herself for having unnecessarily exposed Charles, though a more generous feeling speedily suppressed her momentary selfishness. But Christian was by, and when was selfishness of thought, or an unbelieving fear harboured in Christian’s gentle presence? “Mary! Mary!” she exclaimed, as she turned from one to the other, “are you afraid to trust them in the hands of your Father? They are but doing what is their duty, and He will shield His own from all evil. Would you have your husband, Mary Melville, like these ministers whose whole work is their sermons--alas! there are many such--and who never try, whether visiting the sick and dying, or the vicious and criminal, would not advance their Master’s cause as well--would you that, rather than Halbert’s going forth as he has done to-night?” “No, no; but it is terrible for me to think that he is exposed to all kinds of contagion; that he must go to fevers, and plagues, and diseases that I cannot name nor number, and run continually such fearful risks,” said Mary, energetically.