The old woman and the young girl lay within and listened
fearless.
CHAPTER LXIII.
Alec too lay awake and listened to the untiring rain. Weary of the
house, he had made use of the missionar kirk to get out of it, and had
been one of Mr Turnbull's congregation that night. Partly because his
mind was unoccupied by any fear from without, for he only laughed at
the prophecy, something in that sermon touched him deeper than any one
else in the place perhaps, awoke some old feelings of responsibility
that had been slumbering for a long time, and made him reflect upon an
unquestioned article of his creed--the eternal loss and misery and
torture of the soul that did not repent and believe. At the same time,
what repentance and belief really meant--what he had to do first--he
did not know. All he seemed to know was that he was at that moment in
imminent danger of eternal damnation. And he lay thinking about this
while the rain kept pouring upon the roof out of the thick night
overhead, and the Glamour kept sweeping by through the darkness to the
sea. He grew troubled, and when at last he fell asleep, he dreamed
frightfully.
When he woke, it was a dull morning, full of mist and rain.
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