Dawtie was very white as he signed his name. Where the others saw but a legal ceremony, she feared her loved master was assigning his soul to the devil, as she had read of Dr. Faustus in the old ballad. He was gliding away into the dark, and no one to whom he had done a good turn with the Mammon of unrighteousness, was waiting to receive him into an everlasting habitation! She had and she needed no special cause to love her master, any more than to love the chickens and the calves; she loved because something that could be loved was there present to her; but he had always spoken kindly to her, and been pleased with her endeavor to serve him; and now he was going where she could do nothing for him!--except pray, as her heart and Andrew had taught her, knowing that “all live unto _Him!_” But alas! what were prayers where the man would not take the things prayed for! Nevertheless all things _were_ possible with God, and she _would_ pray for him! It was also with white face, and it was with trembling hand that she signed her own name, for she felt as if giving him a push down the icy slope into the abyss. But when the thing was done, the old man went quietly to sleep, and dreamed of a radiant jewel, glorious as he had never seen jewel, ever within yet ever eluding his grasp. CHAPTER XXIX. THE SANGREAL. The next day he seemed better, and Alexa began to hope again. But in the afternoon his pulse began to sink, and when Crawford came he could welcome him only with a smile and a vain effort to put out his hand. George bent down to him. The others, at a sign from his eyes, left the room. “I can't find it, George!” he whispered. “I put it away for you last night, you remember!” answered George. “Oh, no, you didn't! I had it in my hand a minute ago! But I fell into a doze, and it is gone! George, get it!--get it for me, or I shall go mad!” George went and brought it him. “Thank you! thank you! Now I remember! I thought I was in hell, and they took it from me!” “Don't you be afraid, sir! Fall asleep when you feel inclined. I will keep my eye on the cup.” “You will not go away?” “No; I will stay as long as you like; there is nothing to take me away. If I had thought you would be worse, I would not have gone last night.” “I'm not worse! What put that in your head? Don't you hear me speaking better? I've thought about it, George, and am convinced the cup is a talisman! I am better all the time I hold it! It was because I let you put it away that I was worse last night--for no other reason. If it were not a talisman, how else could it have so nestled itself into my heart! I feel better, always, the moment I take it in my hand! There is something more than common about that chalice! George, what if it should be the Holy Grail!”