The great night-cap and plaid, the dark unshaven cheeks of the man, and the white, thin hands that held the plaid about his chittering body, made a sorrowful picture.

But Francie knew and loved him; came straight in, nestled close to the refugee, and told his story.

M'Brair had been at the College with Haddo; the Presbytery had licensed both on the same day; and at this tale, told with so much innocency by the boy, the heart of the tutor was commoved.
'Woe upon him! Woe upon that man!' he cried.

'O the unfaithful shepherd! O the hireling and apostate minister! Make my matters hot for me?
quo' she! the shameless limmer! And true it is, that he could repose me in that nasty, stinking hole, the Canongate Tolbooth, from which your mother drew me out--the Lord reward her for it!--or to that cold, unbieldy, marine place of the Bass Rock, which, with my delicate kist, would be fair ruin to me.

But I will be valiant in my Master's service.
I have a duty here: a duty to my God, to myself, and to Haddo: in His strength, I will perform it.' Then he straitly discharged Francie to repeat the tale, and bade him in the future to avert his very eyes from the doings of the curate.