A
stately little place it was: when the windows were unmasked, it
would be beautiful!
They stood for some moments by the side of the bed, regarding in
silence. Seldom sure had bed borne one who slept so long!--one who,
never waking might lie there still! When they spoke it was in
whispers.
"How are we to manage it, mistress Brookes?" said Donal.
"Lay the sheet handy, alang the side o' the bed, maister Grant, an'
I s' lay in the dist, han'fu' by han'fu'. I hae that respec' for the
deid, I hae no difficlety aboot han'lin' onything belongin' to
them."
"Gien it hadna been that he tuik it again," said Donal, "the Lord's
ain body wad hae come to this."
As he spoke he laid the sheet on the bed, and began to lay in it the
dry dust and air-wasted bones, handling them as reverently as if the
spirit had but just departed. Mistress Brookes would have prevented
Arctura, but she insisted on having her share in the burying of her
own: who they were God knew, but they should be hers anyhow, and one
day she would know! For to fancy we go into the other world a set of
spiritual moles burrowing in the dark of a new and unknown
existence, is worthy only of such as have a lifeless Law to their
sire. We shall enter it as children with a history, as children
going home to a long line of living ancestors, to develop closest
relations with them. She would yet talk, live face to face, with
those whose dust she was now lifting in her two hands to restore it
to its dust.
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