In about half an hour after this, the howl and scratch of a dog were heard at the door-back, and Help immediately rushed in, the welcome forerunner of his master and Hogg. They had, indeed, had a fearful struggle, and fearful wanderings; but, in endeavouring to avoid the dangerous, because precipitous, Head Scaur, they had wandered from the track, and from the object of their travel; and, after having been inclined once or twice to lie down and take a rest (the deceitful messenger of death), they had at last got upon the track of Caple Water; and, by keeping to its windings--which they had often traced at the risk of being drowned--they had at last weathered the old cham'er, the byre, and peat-stack, and were now, thank God! within "bigget wa's." But where, alas! was Willie Wilson? Him, in consequence of their deviations, they had missed; and over him, thus exposed, the tempest was still renewing at intervals its hurricane gusts. There was one scream heard, such as would have penetrated the heart of a tiger, and all was still. There she lay, the beauteous, but now marble bride; her head reposing on her mother's lap, her lips pale as the snowdrop, her eyes fixed and soulless, her cheek without a tint, and her mouth half-open and breathless. Long, long was the withdrawment--again and again was the dram-glass applied to the mouth, to catch the first expiration of returning breath--ere the frame began to quiver, the hands to move, the lips and cheeks to colour, and the eyes to indicate the approaching return to reason and perception. "I have killed him! I have killed him!" were the first frantic accents. "I have murdered, murdered my dear Willie! It was me that sent him--forced him--compelled him out--out into the drift--the cold, cold drift. Away!" added the maniac--"away! I'll go after him--I'll perish with him--where he lies, there will I lie, and there will I be buried. What! is there none of ye that will make an effort to save a perishing--a choking--oh, my God! a suffocating man?" Hereupon she again sank backwards, and was prevented from falling by the arms of a father. "O my child!" said parental love and affection--"O my dear wean!--oh, be patient!--God is guid--He has preserved _us_ all--He will not desert _him_ in the hour of his need--He neither slumbers nor sleeps--His hand is not shortened that He cannot save--and what He can, He will--He never deserted any that trusted in Him. O my child! my bairn!--my first-born!--be patient--be patient. There--there--there is a scratch at the door-back--it is Rover."