Authors, English -- 19th century -- Biography; Brown, John, 1810-1882 -- Childhood and youth; Dogs -- Folklore
This was the close. She sank rapidly: the delirium left her; but, as she
whispered, she was "clean silly;" it was the lightening before the final
darkness. After having for some time lain still, her eyes shut, she
said, "James!" He came close to her, and, lifting up her calm, clear,
beautiful eyes, she gave him a long look, turned to me kindly but
shortly, looked for Rab but could not see him, then turned to her
husband again, as if she would never leave off looking, shut her eyes
and composed herself. She lay for some time breathing quick, and
passed away so gently that, when we thought she was gone, James, in his
old-fashioned way, held the mirror to her face. After a long pause,
one small spot of dimness was breathed out; it vanished away, and never
returned, leaving the blank clear darkness without a stain. "What is our
life? it is even a vapor, which appeareth for a little time, and then
vanisheth away."
Rab all this time had been fully awake and motionless: he came forward
beside us: Ailie's hand, which James had held, was hanging down; it was
soaked with his tears; Rab licked it all over carefully, looked at her,
and returned to his place under the table.
James and I sat, I don't know how long, but for some time, saying
nothing: he started up abruptly, and with some noise went to the table,
and, putting his right fore and middle fingers each into a shoe, pulled
them out, and put them on, breaking one of the leather latchets, and
muttering in anger, "I never did the like o' that afore!"
I believe he never did; nor after either. "Rab!" he said, roughly, and
pointing with his thumb to the bottom of the bed. Rab leaped up, and
settled himself, his head and eye to the dead face. "Maister John,
ye'll wait for me," said the carrier; and disappeared in the darkness,
thundering downstairs in his heavy shoes. I ran to a front window; there
he was, already round the house, and out at the gate, fleeing like a
shadow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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