I gave him brandy, and he recovered a little strength.
"I am dying, Duke," he said, quietly.

"Promise you won't blame yourself." "I can't, old man," said The Duke, with a shudder.

"Would to heaven I could." "You were too strong for me, and you didn't think, did you ?" and the weak voice had a caress in it.
"No, no! God knows," said The Duke, hurriedly.
There was a long silence, and again Bruce opened his eyes and whispered: "The Pilot." Moore came to him.
"Read 'The Prodigal,'" he said faintly, and in Moore's clear, sweet voice the music of that matchless story fell upon our ears.
Again Bruce's eyes summoned me.

I bent over him.
"My letter," he said, faintly, "in my coat--" I brought to him the last letter from his mother.

He held the envelope before his eyes, then handed it to me, whispering: "Read." I opened the letter and looked at the words, "My darling Davie." My tongue stuck and not a sound could I make.