See," she said, producing the sacred volume, "the book opens aye at the place o' itsell.

O see, Jeanie, what a fearfu' Scripture!" Jeanie took her sister's Bible, and found that the fatal mark was made at this impressive text in the book of Job: "He hath stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head.

He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone.

And mine hope hath he removed like a tree." "Isna that ower true a doctrine ?" said the prisoner "Isna my crown, my honour, removed?
And what am I but a poor, wasted, wan-thriven tree, dug up by the roots, and flung out to waste in the highway, that man and beast may tread it under foot?
I thought o' the bonny bit them that our father rooted out o' the yard last May, when it had a' the flush o' blossoms on it; and then it lay in the court till the beasts had trod them a' to pieces wi' their feet.

I little thought, when I was wae for the bit silly green bush and its flowers, that I was to gang the same gate mysell." "O, if ye had spoken ae word," again sobbed Jeanie,--"if I were free to swear that ye had said but ae word of how it stude wi' ye, they couldna hae touched your life this day." "Could they na ?" said Effie, with something like awakened interest--for life is dear even to those who feel it is a burden--"Wha tauld ye that, Jeanie ?" "It was ane that kend what he was saying weel eneugh," replied Jeanie, who had a natural reluctance at mentioning even the name of her sister's seducer.
"Wha was it ?--I conjure you to tell me," said Effie, seating herself upright.--"Wha could tak interest in sic a cast-by as I am now ?--Was it--was it _him ?_" "Hout," said Ratcliffe, "what signifies keeping the poor lassie in a swither?
I'se uphaud it's been Robertson that learned ye that doctrine when ye saw him at Muschat's Cairn." "Was it him ?" said Effie, catching eagerly at his words--"was it him, Jeanie, indeed ?--O, I see it was him--poor lad, and I was thinking his heart was as hard as the nether millstane--and him in sic danger on his ain part--poor George!" Somewhat indignant at this burst of tender feeling towards the author of her misery, Jeanie could not help exclaiming--"O Effie, how can ye speak that gate of sic a man as that ?" "We maun forgie our enemies, ye ken," said poor Effie, with a timid look and a subdued voice; for her conscience told her what a different character the feelings with which she regarded her seducer bore, compared with the Christian charity under which she attempted to veil it.
"And ye hae suffered a' this for him, and ye can think of loving him still ?" said her sister, in a voice betwixt pity and blame.
"Love him!" answered Effie--"If I hadna loved as woman seldom loves, I hadna been within these wa's this day; and trow ye, that love sic as mine is lightly forgotten ?--Na, na--ye may hew down the tree, but ye canna change its bend--And, O Jeanie, if ye wad do good to me at this moment, tell me every word that he said, and whether he was sorry for poor Effie or no!" "What needs I tell ye onything about it ?" said Jeanie.