"Now may God, in his infinite mercy, grant that this new and exceeding bitter trial be averted from us," piously exclaimed the venerable matron, throwing her arms around the necks of her weeping daughters; "but let us not murmur, my children, should it be otherwise decreed by Him whose goodness and loving-kindness are beyond all praise. Our heart’s dearest treasures are but lent us for a season—soon, soon must they be restored; then let us, recognising the unspeakable love which prompts the removal of our choicest blessings that our thoughts may be weaned from earth to heaven, exclaim with the bereaved King of Israel, ’The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord!’" Scarcely had old Mrs. Henderson finished her pious exhortation, ere the door again opened—but this time it was a man’s eager footstep which paced the passage, and the voice of Walter Henderson’s son that saluted their ears. He entered; his countenance looked worn and haggard, and he tossed back his dishevelled hair from his forehead with an air of despondency that escaped not the eyes of the watchful mother. "My son! my son!" she exclaimed, throwing herself on his neck; "what of your father? speak, I can bear it all; only speak, my son!" "You here, mother!" he gasped forth, and his voice died away in a broken murmur. "Oh, my Walter! I see it all; thou art dead! I, too, am a widow!" "No, mother, no! he is not yet dead, and while there is life there is hope—comfort yourself, my mother!" "Where is he, that we may try and save him?" demanded his grandmother. The young man shook his head as he answered, "He lies in a dungeon beneath Lag Castle, and to-morrow’s sunrise sees him suffer on Lag Hill!" "To-morrow!" screamed forth the distracted wife, and fell prostrate on the floor. "He shall not die; oh, mother, speak to me!" cried her almost distracted son; and raising her tenderly in his arms, he gazed in her face with a look of unspeakable anguish, fearful lest she too might be snatched from him. Then seeing her recover a little, he continued pouring in words of consolation into her ears, such as were dictated by love and hope. "Oh! can ye do nought to save him?" cried his aged grandmother, "I fear me her life will go, should he suffer death. Poor thing; oh my helpless children, you have indeed suffered much! God in his mercy succour you, for I fear man can do but little."