On the Sabbath day, in company with old Jennie Scott, he walked up the aisle of the old kirk. She was a proud woman on that day--for was not she walking wi' her minister's grandson? the handsomest, the noblest, an' the best o' a' the young men around Glencoe? He sat in his mother's seat, and used the old book which contained her name. On the fly-leaf was written-- "Malcolm Graham, sailed on the first day of March, 1807. May God be with him to bless and keep him." On another leaf was written--"Mary Gordon, married to Stephen Bruce, Oct. 1st, 1811. May God bless the union with peace." Roland's tears dropped over these silent memorials, but it was a blessed thought that all the cares and trials of that beloved mother were over forever; and as he now joined in the psalms which she had often sung in the pew of her own kirk, so he hoped in the church triumphant to sing with her and Effie the song of Moses and the Lamb. After the service, he visited the graves of his kindred, and with true delicacy, none of the plain Scotch people intruded upon his solitude, as he stood in silence around the sacred spot. "What a blessing to have godly ancestors!" thought Roland; "followed all my life by earnest prayer, God has shielded and blessed me thus far with the knowledge of himself as my reconciled Father in Christ Jesus." Many were the warm greetings which met him at the church gate; and many the blessings that were showered upon him by the people who loved the memory of their dear old minister. "I must go, Jennie," said Roland, when Monday morning came. "I am anxious to find Uncle Malcolm." "Ye will see me again before ye return to America?" "O, yes, Jennie; I will be sure to return." It was a cold, bleak morning, when he started. "I think we are going to hae a snow-storm, Roland; had ye na better wait a day or twa?" "I think not, Jennie; I can get along very well;" and he would not hear of farther delay. "I ken the signs around these dark mountains, Roland; we shall hae a heavy fa' o' snaw before nicht--the stage will only tak' ye within three miles o' Malcolm's house, an' it will be a dark journey on foot in a snaw-storm." "God is with me, Jennie; I must go." "Fare ye weel! my bairn, till we meet again," said the old woman. Taking up his carpet-bag, and seeing his trunk carefully deposited, he started on his journey. It was a raw, chilly morning; he had provided himself with a tartan plaid, and wrapping himself in its heavy folds, he took his seat in the stage. The wind sighed heavily as though a storm was really brewing. "We shall hae to plew through heavy drifts before we reach the end o' our journey," said the driver. As they ascended the road, the animals were well aware of what was coming; and the wild mountain birds screamed around them with foreboding warnings.