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"
Ye
ll
be
puttin
up
a
prayer
?
"
she
turned
to
David
.
"
I
cannot
pray
.
.
.
I
can
only
watch
.
.
.
.
I
beg
you
to
let
me
watch
here
beside
her
.
"
"
Have
your
way
.
There
s
little
need
o
speech
if
there
be
prayer
in
the
heart
.
Isobel
will
get
ready
your
chamber
,
for
ye
canna
leave
this
house
.
"
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Presently
David
was
in
the
sick
-
room
alone
,
and
if
he
could
not
pray
he
spent
the
hours
on
his
knees
.
Isobel
and
Mistress
Grizel
returned
from
time
to
time
;
once
Mark
came
in
and
put
his
hand
on
the
girl
s
brow
.
The
night
passed
and
the
dawn
came
,
but
still
David
knelt
at
a
chair
by
the
bedside
,
his
head
sometimes
in
his
hands
and
sometimes
lifted
to
gaze
at
the
face
on
the
pillow
.
He
was
tortured
with
the
sense
of
his
frailty
.
A
sacrifice
,
another
sacrifice
,
was
required
,
and
for
what
sins
but
his
own
?
He
had
been
lacking
-
-
oh
,
he
had
been
lacking
in
every
Christian
grace
.
In
those
black
moments
he
saw
himself
as
the
chief
of
sinners
,
his
struggles
to
rise
foiled
by
a
dragging
weight
of
self
,
his
ardours
half
-
hearted
,
the
fruits
he
brought
forth
but
poor
pithless
stalks
,
his
errors
dark
and
monstrous
like
birds
of
night
.
He
was
not
conscious
of
any
special
sin
-
-
only
of
a
deep
unworthiness
which
made
him
unfit
to
touch
the
hem
of
her
garment
.
.
.
.
Had
ever
any
one
so
made
music
in
the
world
by
merely
passing
through
it
?
And
now
-
-
burning
instead
of
beauty
.
Mr
.
Fordyce
came
over
from
Cauldshaw
in
the
evening
.
He
spoke
to
David
but
got
no
answer
-
-
it
may
be
doubted
if
his
words
were
understood
.
But
an
invitation
to
follow
him
in
prayer
was
rejected
,
so
Mr
.
James
prayed
alone
-
-
"
for
Thy
handmaiden
who
is
in
the
pangs
of
a
great
sickness
-
-
and
for
him
Thy
servant
to
whom
her
welfare
is
especially
dear
.
"
The
prayer
seemed
to
David
to
make
an
enclosure
for
Katrine
and
himself
apart
from
the
world
.
Mark
took
him
to
his
room
and
made
him
lie
down
on
his
bed
.
He
gave
him
a
bowl
of
spiced
ale
,
which
David
drank
greedily
,
for
he
was
very
thirsty
.
Maybe
the
posset
contained
some
innocent
drug
,
for
he
slipped
into
dreams
.
They
were
pleasant
dreams
,
shapeless
and
aimless
,
but
with
a
sense
of
well
-
being
in
them
which
soothed
him
,
so
that
he
woke
to
Mark
s
pressure
on
his
arm
with
a
vacant
smile
.
But
one
glimpse
of
the
real
world
-
-
the
corner
of
a
four
-
post
bed
,
torn
arras
,
and
the
skirts
of
Mark
s
frieze
coat
-
-
brought
down
on
him
the
dark
battalion
of
his
cares
.
He
had
no
need
to
wait
for
the
spoken
word
;
Mark
s
eyes
were
message
enough
.
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"
Come
!
The
fever
has
abated
,
"
were
the
words
.
David
s
brain
was
sluggish
:
the
words
seemed
to
be
at
variance
with
the
speaker
s
face
;
for
a
moment
he
had
a
bewildered
spasm
of
comfort
.
"
She
is
recovered
?
"