"Guid-night;" and Malcolm left him to the quiet of his thoughts. Having allowed him time for his devotions, and preparations for repose, Malcolm entered once more. "Here is a bowl o' negus, my son, it will na' harm ye after sic a freezing as ye hae had;" and Malcolm insisted on his drinking down the whole. "Now, guid-night, Roland;" and Malcolm laid his hand in blessing upon the young head, as he continued, "God bless ye, and gi' ye refreshing sleep." He lay awake some time, for Roland's emotions were of that delicious character which none can realize but those who have been thus suddenly transported from a scene of danger and suffering to one of perfect rest and safety. The howling of the wind without, and the beating of the snowdrifts against the window-panes, were strongly contrasted with the light of the glowing fire illumining some Scripture pictures on the wall, the warm, soft bed, and the sweet atmosphere of Christian love by which he was surrounded. Truly, "the Lord giveth his beloved sleep!" and such a sleep was Roland's. "We did na' wake ye early, Roland;" said his friend, who came at last to see if he was stirring, "for we kenned that ye needed rest; how do ye fare this morning?" "Perfectly well and happy," was the answer. "Well, I will leave ye now; as soon as ye are ready, come down to the breakfast-room." Roland poured out his heart in earnest, grateful prayer, dressed himself, and appeared before the family quite another man. A smoking breakfast of good, hot coffee, venison, beef-steak, hot bannocks, muffins, and boiled eggs awaited him; and, on this occasion, he did ample justice to the tempting viands. "We have delayed worship, this morning, on your account, Roland;" and immediately after breakfast, the same company again assembled, the same sweet music, Scripture reading, and fervent prayer of the night before. "Come, look out upon the landscape, Roland," said the master, as he led the young man into the family parlor, and turned aside the heavy curtains that he might see the picture without. The sun was shining in all his glory upon the landscape--mountains of snow were piled up everywhere, glistening in the sunbeams, which were reflected in prismatic colors in the icicles pendant from the branches of the trees. Such a scene Roland had never before witnessed, and, to his temperament, it was full of exhilaration. "Now, my son, I am ready for your story;" and Malcolm led the way to his own private room, directing that he should not be disturbed that morning. It was a cozy little apartment, with secretary, writing-table, book-cases well filled, comfortable chairs, a cushioned lounge, and a bright wood fire.