Sweet the dawn and close
Of the summer day;
Ah, more prized the glee,
Isle, thou dost impart,
Shining goldenly

In my loving heart,
-Star of halcyon sea,
Blissful memory!

Melbourne, Australia.

M. WATSON, S.J.

TRANSUBSTANTIATION

The earth full-fruited came, the earth, full-flowered,
By God's good lavish hand with charms endowered;
For this that here His flowers might be embowered?

But blossoms fade, and fruits of earth decay:
Infinite God works not in passing clay:
He made not earth for things that pass away.

The earth, full-flowered, fruited came, the mine
Of these our bodies, vessels for His wine;
Lo, are we not crossed with His Potter-sign?

The flowers, the fruits for earth; and earth for man;
The Man-God binding all, a circling span,
The things that end-with Him that ne'er began.

For, know you, all that God hath made remains;

The flowered earth, transformed, flows through man's veins, And Christ's earth-body, glorified, in Heaven reigns!

HUGH F. BLUNT.

THE BROOCH OF LINDISFARNE

By JESSIE A. GAUGHAN

Author of "The Plucking of the Lily."

CHAPTER XXIX

BACK TO LIFE

Sir Lauchlan MacLean was hurried back to prison after the accident to MacDonald, and there he waited expecting to be led out to die at every opening of the door. He was no craven, but the stoutest heart must grow faint if the sword gleams over long.

It was small consolation to him to be spared for a while, since he knew that he was now doubly detested. Should Sir Angus die, two MacDonald lives would lie at his door. Suspense was worse to him than any certainty. So he lived from hour to hour, not daring to promise himself another day, not knowing what the minutes might bring forth.

James MacDonald he knew to be of a prudent nature, slow to anger, but even were James to become chief he would be borne down by numbers and forced to make an end of his rival. Sir Lauchlan knew not whether to hope for life or death for MacDonald, but sat head in hands throughout the day and night, and slept not at all.

Sore stricken was Sir Angus MacDonald, and it would require all the skill of his physician to keep the life in him. In his bed he lay with all his vaunted authority for the time suspended, breathing heavily, and still unconscious.

It was the day following his accident, and with him were his mother and his son. All through the night, Muriel and Ella had watched beside him.

It seemed that James would soon be Sir James.

Little spoke Lady Agnes or James, but the mother anxiously watched her son's features for returning life, telling her beads with what devotion she could, offering to the Mother of Sorrows her heart-broken disjointed prayers.

Human sounds were few in Mulindry that day. Through the morning the MacDonalds moved silently about their work for sympathy with their chief.

Towards afternoon Sir Angus MacDonald struggled back to consciousness.

While he still hovered on the borderland of waking, it seemed to him that a well-known form was bending over him. He strove to rise to grasp the strong brown hands that were so near his own, but he was powerless. A deep manly voice sounded in his ears. He tried to speak. Oh! how he tried, but he could only groan.

With the groan came fully awakened senses.

In a moment Lady Agnes was at his side, the light of hope brightening her eyes, dim with watching and weeping.

66

Angus! Thank God, thank God! Speak to your mother, my son! One word."

The physician silenced her with a warning gesture, as bending he felt the sick man's pulse. Sir Angus stared from one to the other, then, lifting a feeble hand, passed it uncertainly over his brow and tried to raise himself.

66

"A dream," he muttered almost inaudibly. "O God! 'twas but a dream."

His eyes closed and he fell back upon the pillows. The physician hastened to hold a cordial to his lips. He swallowed it and the effect was instantaneous.

"Mother," he said quietly. "It all comes back to me. MacLean the horse. But it seems weeks since I was hurled to the ground. Tell me, is MacLean dead ?"

"The whole truth," whispered the physician in answer to the swift enquiring glance of Lady Agnes.

more good than all my potions."

66

66

It may do

No, my son, no," she said eagerly, "MacLean lives and you, thank God, are spared a life-long remorse."

66

"I thought," Sir Angus broke in, as if speaking to himself, that my brother Coll was here beside me. I tried to speak, to grasp his hand, but he was gone. Coll, Coll, only in dreams will I see you more! And MacLean remains. Well, be it so. I too have cheated death."

Tears were now in the mother's eyes, but they were happy

tears.

66

My son, our lost ones who come back to us in sleep serve

only to increase our waking misery. What would you say if in truth it was Coll you saw and no dream vision ?”

With sudden strength Sir Angus sprang up in his bed. Mother, mother, you mock me! Or am I dreaming still? Coll alive! It cannot be."

David MacBeath, the physician, intervened authoritatively. "Calm yourself, Sir Angus. It is true. Coll MacDonald is alive and well, and was watching here with us until you gave signs of waking. Then I sent him away lest the shock of seeing him might injure you, but you must have been half-conscious and seen him before he left."

Once more the chieftain had fallen back with languid eyes half-closed and breath coming in gasps.

"It is nothing," MacBeath spoke reassuringly to Lady Agnes, but at present he can bear no more. Leave him to

66

me, my lady," he added respectfully.

"Thank God," the sick man's voice was heard," that my soul is free from the murder of my brother-in-law."

"God be thanked, indeed!" exclaimed Lady Agnes fervently. "I can leave you now in peace," and kissing her son she went away marvelling and rejoicing at the change that had come over him.

But when one stands in the Vestibule of Death, great changes are wrought.

Distorted perspectives straighten themselves, and human affairs assume their true proportions. Happy the few who, like Sir Angus MacDonald, carry back with them to life dispositions altered and bettered by their near approach to Eternal Truth.

When the Earl of Lindisfarne picked himself up in the passage, he found himself face to face with Coll MacDonald. He did not know how the man believed to have been slain had come to be alive and he did not ask himself the question; but he set his back to the wall and regarded his assailant menacingly.

The look of deep abhorrence and loathing which Grace MacDonald had cast upon him when she called him murderer, seemed still to scorch his very soul. She was lost to him. He knew it, and he had given away his secret. When the MacDonalds came to know that he had been at the sack of Rathlin, he might expect short shrift from them: his life

would not be worth a foam bubble. He felt desperate, but he was brave and spirited, and when Coll MacDonald, seething with rage against the man who had dared to alarm or molest his cousin, fiercely demanded an explanation, the Earl hurled a challenge at him.

Coll's hand flew to his sword hilt, then fell away.

From the frightened waiting women whom Grace MacDonald's scream had brought hurrying to her aid, he had gathered some idea of the reason of the Earl of Lindisfarne's presence at Dunyvaig, and he would not cross swords with one who had taken refuge in his brother's house at his brother's invitation.

“I refuse to fight with my brother's guest," said he. Then Lindisfarne, whose brain had been working rapidly, demanded a boat to carry him from Islay.

The galley that had brought Coll from Mull lay rocking in the bay, manned by a crew of islesmen, who spoke no word but Gaelic. This boat Coll placed at Lindisfarne's disposal, and the Earl, whose passion had died away, thanked his rival with something of his usual dignified courtesy.

“I am no madman," he added, "and therefore will give you no explanation of my conduct towards your cousin; but whether you credit my words or no, I have offered no insult to Mistress Grace. Rather would I cut off my right hand. My respect for her is, and shall be always, as profound as my admiration and--and love. Stay!" as Coll, frowning, took an angry step forward. "She looks upon me with horror. I am content to abide by her verdict when she is calm enough to judge me rightly. This much I will say. I am guiltless of the crime she lays to my charge. But let it pass.. 1

forgive her the blow she has dealt me. I would have shed the last drop of my blood to serve her. May her favoured lover guard and cherish her as I would have done had she given me leave."

There was truth in his face and voice, and Coll MacDonald with generous impulsiveness extended his hand.

"Your pardon, Lindisfarne, if in thought I have wronged you!"

The two gripped hands before parting for ever.

Coll gave the order to the rowers to proceed to the nearest point on the Ayrshire coast, and the Earl of Lindisfarne,