“But that will be a long round for you,” said Mrs. Murray. “Could not we go by the Campbells', and they will send word to Donald Ross?” “I think it would be better for me to go, to make sure of the teams.” “Very well, then. Good by, Ranald,” said the minister's wife, holding out her hand to him. But still Ranald lingered. “It will be hard on Bella Peter,” he said, in a low voice, looking out of the window. “Bella Peter? Bella McGregor?” “Yes,” said Ranald, embarrassed and hesitating. “She was Mack's--Mack was very fond of her, whatever.” “Oh, Ranald!” she cried, “do you say so? Are you sure of that?” “Yes, I am sure,” said Ranald, simply. “The boys in the shanty would be teasing Mack about it, and one day Mack told me something, and I know quite well.” “I will go to her,” said Mrs. Murray. “That will be very good,” said Ranald, much relieved. “And I will be going with you that way.” As Mrs. Murray left the room, Maimie came around to where Ranald was standing and said to him, gently, “You knew him well, didn't you?” “Yes,” replied Ranald, in an indifferent tone, as if unwilling to talk with her about it. “And you were very fond of him?” went on Maimie. Ranald caught the tremor in her voice and looked at her. “Yes,” he said, with an effort. “He was good to me in the camp. Many's the time he made it easy for me. He was next to Macdonald Bhain with the ax, and, man, he was the grand fighter--that is,” he added, adopting the phrase of the Macdonald gang, “when it was a plain necessity.” Then, forgetting himself, he began to tell Maimie how Big Mack had borne himself in the great fight a few weeks before. But he had hardly well begun when suddenly he stopped with a groan. “But now he is dead--he is dead. I will never see him no more.” He was realizing for the first time his loss. Maimie came nearer him, and laying her hand timidly on his arm, said, “I am sorry, Ranald”; and Ranald turned once more and looked at her, as if surprised that she should show such feeling. “Yes,” he said, “I believe you are sorry.” Her big blue eyes filled suddenly with tears. “Do you wonder that I am sorry? Do you think I have no heart at all?” she burst forth, impetuously. “Indeed, I don't know,” said Ranald. “Why should you care? You do not know him.” “But haven't you just told me how splendid he was, and how good he was to you, and how much you thought of him, and--” Maimie checked her rush of words with a sudden blush, and then hurried on to say, “Besides, think of his mother, and all of them.” While Maimie was speaking, Ranald had been scanning her face as if trying to make up his mind about her. “I am glad you are sorry,” he said, slowly, gazing with so searching a look into her eyes that she let them fall. At this moment Mrs. Murray entered ready for her ride. “Is the pony come?” she asked. “Indeed, it is the slouch I am,” said Ranald, and he hurried off to the stable, returning in a very short time with the pony saddled.