nine o'clock at
night
He sat by the side of his friend all that day and through the next night , refusing to eat or take rest , and motionless , except when he stooped to pat the dog that lay at his feet and that raised his head occasionally with a mournful whine . Andrew Johnstone made no complaint nor did he say anything when his friends came to sympathise with him . But Mrs. Fraser , who had visited the room in company with Duncan 's stricken sister , heard Splinterin ' Andra whisper softly as they left the place , `` Ma hert is very sair for thee , Jonathan , ma brother ! '' The roads were in such an impassable condition that by nine o'clock at night Wee Andra had not returned , and Duncan Polite had been laid in his coffin , ready for his long rest . One dim lamp burned near the head of the bier , and at its foot sat old Andrew , his head bowed , his face in his hands . Across the hall the sorrowing neighbours had gathered in the dining-room , where some of Duncan Polite 's friends were leading in prayer for the bereaved relatives . Peter McNabb had asked the minister to open the service , but had accepted his refusal in silent sympathy , wondering somewhat at the young man 's grief-stricken face .