O, let me get into the bield of a house--I'll can die there easier." I had no need to pretend; whether I chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that would have melted a heart of stone.
"Can ye walk ?" asked Alan.
"No," said I, "not without help.

This last hour my legs have been fainting under me; I've a stitch in my side like a red-hot iron; I cannae breathe right.

If I die, ye'll can forgive me, Alan?
In my heart, I liked ye fine--even when I was the angriest." "Wheesht, wheesht!" cried Alan.

"Dinna say that! David man, ye ken--" He shut his mouth upon a sob.

"Let me get my arm about ye," he continued; "that's the way! Now lean upon me hard.