"Is it a deeth ?" added she, quietly.
"It is!--death, sudden and terrible; in your own house I must tell it you--( and may God show me how to break it to her)." He entered her house.
"Aweel," said the woman to the others, "it maun be some far-awa cousin, or the like, for Liston an' me hae nae near freends.

Meg, ye idle fuzzy," screamed she to her servant, who was one of the spectators, "your pat is no on yet; div ye think the men will no be hungry when they come in fra' the sea ?" "They will never hunger nor thirst ony mair," said Jean, solemnly, as the bereaved woman entered her own door.
There ensued a listless and fearful silence.
Every moment some sign of bitter sorrow was expected to break forth from the house, but none came; and amid the expectation and silence the waves dashed louder and louder, as it seemed, against the dike, conscious of what they had done.
At last, in a moment, a cry of agony arose, so terrible that all who heard it trembled, and more than one woman shrieked in return, and fled from the door, at which, the next moment, the clergyman stood alone, collected, but pale, and beckoned.

Several women advanced.
"One woman," said he.
Jean Carnie was admitted; and after a while returned.
"She is come to hersel'," whispered she; "I am no weel mysel'." And she passed into her own house.
Then Flucker crept to the door to see.
"Oh, dinna spy on her," cried Christie.
"Oh, yes, Flucker," said many voices.
"He is kneelin'," said Flucker.

"He has her hand, to gar her kneel tae--she winna--she does na see him, nor hear him; he will hae her.

He has won her to kneel--he is prayin, an' greetin aside her.