"
"Mother! did ye pit in the Bible?" cried Bruce, for the house-door was
open.
"'Deed no, father. It's better whaur't is," said Mrs Bruce from the
kitchen, with shrill response.
"Ye see, Mr Doo, the Bible's lain sae lang there, that it's jist oor
ain. And the lassie canna want it till she has a faimily to hae worship
wi'. And syne she s' be welcome to tak' it."
"Ye gang up the stair for the buik, or I'll gang mysel'."
Bruce went and fetched it, with a bad grace enough, and handed over
with it the last tattered remnants of his respectability into the hands
of James Dow.
Mr Cupples, having made a translation of the inscription, took it to
Thomas Crann.
"Do ye min' what Bruce read that nicht ye saw him tak' something oot o'
the beuk?" he asked as he entered.
"Ay, weel that. He began wi' the twenty-third psalm, and gaed on to the
neist."
"Weel, read that. I faun' 't on a blank leaf o' the buik."
Thomas read???-'_Over the twenty-third psalm of David I have laid a
five-pound note for my dear Annie Anderson, after my death_,'???-and
lifting his eyes, stared at Mr Cupples, his face slowly brightening
with satisfaction. Then a cloud came over his brow???-for was he not
rejoicing in iniquity? At least he was rejoicing in coming shame.
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