“Then let us be of one heart too, Dawtie!” She was so accustomed to hear Andrew speak in figures, that sometimes she looked through and beyond his words. She did so now, and seeing nothing, stood perplexed. “Winna ye, Dawtie?” said Andrew, holding out his hands. “I dinna freely un'erstan' ye, An'rew.” “Ye h'avenly idiot,” cried Andrew. “Wull ye be my wife, or wull ye no?” Dawtie threw her shapely arms above her head--straight up, her head fell back, and she seemed to gaze into the unseen. Then she gave a gasp, her arms dropped to her sides, and she would have fallen had not Andrew taken her. “Andrew! Andrew!” she sighed, and was still in his arms. “Winna ye, Dawtie?” he whispered. “Wait,” she murmured; “wait.” “I winna wait, Dawtie.” “Wait till ye hear what they'll say the morn.” “Dawtie, I'm ashamed o' ye. What care I, an' what daur ye care what they say. Are ye no the Lord's clean yowie? Gien ye care for what ony man thinks o' ye but the Lord himsel', ye're no a' His. Gien ye care for what I think o' ye, ither-like nor what He thinks, ye're no sae His as I maun hae ye afore we pairt company--which, please God, 'ill be on the ither side o' eternity.” “But, An'rew, it winna do to say o' yer father's son 'at he took his wife frae the jail.” “'Deed they s' say naething ither! What ither cam I for? Would ye hae me ashamed o' ane o' God's elec'--a lady o' the Lord's ain coort?” “Eh, but I'm feart it's a' the compassion o' yer hert, sir. Ye wad fain mak' up to me for the disgrace. Ye could weel do wantin' me.” “I winna say,” returned Andrew, “that I couldna live wantin' ye, for that wad be to say I wasna worth offerin' ye, and it would be to deny Him 'at made you and me for ane anither, but I wad have a some sair time! I'll jist speak to the minister to be ready the minute the Lord opens yer prison-door.” The same moment in came the governor with his wife; they were much interested in Dawtie. “Sir, and ma'am,” said Andrew, “will you please witness that this woman is my wife?” “It's Maister Andrew Ingram o' the Knowe,” said Dawtie. “He wants me to merry him.” “I want her to go before the court as my wife,” said Andrew. “She would have me wait till the jury said this or that. The jury give me my wife. As if I didn't know her.” “You won't have him, I see,” said Mrs. Innes, turning to Dawtie. “Hae him!” cried Dawtie, “I wad hae him gien there war but the heid o' him.” “Then you are husband and wife,” said the governor; “only you should have the thing done properly by the minister--afterward.” “I'll see to that, sir,” answered Andrew. “Come, wife,” said the governor, “we must let them have a few minutes alone together.” “There,” said Andrew, when the door closed, “ye're my wife, noo, Dawtie. Lat them acquit ye or condemn ye, it's you an' me, noo, whatever come!” Dawtie broke into a flood of tears--an experience all but new to her--and found it did her good. She smiled as she wiped her eyes, and said: