He was ower-tired, d'ye see, wi' the trooble an' the toil, an' noo I fear me an they've broke the hert o' 'im." Then Bachelor Billy, lifting the boy up in his arms, set his face toward the door.

Ye've done a braw thing, an' ye're through the worst o' it; but ye'll find a hard path yet, an' ye'll need a stout hert.