“'Na, na,' he said tae George, 'a' coont him happy, for he hed a reward for the black crossin'; laddie, mony a man wud be wullin' tae dee gin he wes luved. What think ye o' a man fechtin' through the ford a' his life wi' nae kindly licht?' “Geordie wes wae for him, an' telt me in the gloamin', an' it set me thinkin'. Cud it be that puir Drumsheugh micht hae luved an' been refused, an' naebody kent o't? Nane but the Almichty sees the sorrow in ilka hert, an' them 'at suffers maist says least. “It cam tae me that he must hae luved, for he wes that conseederate wi' Geordie, sae wum-manlike in his manner wi' the pillows and shawls, sae wilie in findin' oot what wud please the laddie; he learned yon in anither place than Muirtown Market. Did ye... ever hear onything, doctor? It 's no for clashin' (gossip) a' wud ask, but for peety an' his gudeness tae ma bairn.” “Is't likely he wud tell ony man, even though he be his freend?” and Maclure fenced bravely, “did ye hear naethin' in the auld days when ye wes on Drumsheugh?” “No a whisper; he wes never in the mooth o' the Glen, an' he wesna the same then; he wes quiet and couthy, ceevil tae a' the workin' fouk; there wes nae meanness in Drumsheugh in thae days. A've often thocht nae man in a' the Glen wud hae made a better husband tae some gude wumman than that Drumsheugh. It passes me hoo he turned sae hard and near for thirty years. But dinna ye think the rael Drumsheugh hes come oot again?” The doctor seemed to be restraining speech. “He's no an ordinary man, whatever the Glen may think,” and Marget seemed to be meditating. “Noo he wudna enter the hoose, an' he wes that agitat that aince when a' brocht him his tea he let the cup drop on the graivel. Be sure there's twa fouk in every ane o 's--ae Drumsheugh 'at focht wi' the dealers an' lived like a miser, an' anither that gied the money for Tammas Mitchell's wife an' nursit ma laddie.” Maclure would have been sadly tried in any case, but it was only a week ago Drumsheugh had made his confession. Besides, he was near the end, and his heart was jealous for his friend. It seemed the worse treachery to be silent. “There 's juist ae Drumsheugh, Marget Hoo, as ye 're a leevin' wumman, him ye saw in the gairden, wha wud hae denied himsel a meal o' meat tae get thae pictures for yir... for Geordie. “The Glen disna ken Drumsheugh, and never wull this side o' the grave,” and the doctor's voice was ringing with passion, and something like tears were in his eyes; “but gin there be a jidgment an'... books be opened, the 'ill be ane for Drumtochty, and the bravest page in it 'ill be Drumsheugh's.