But the lad's Presbyterian rearing had taught him to hate a sectarian as he would a papist or as he would the devil, and he did no more than echo Galliard's words--though in a gentler key.
"I pray you go," he said.

"But if you would perform an act of charity, leave your lanthorn.

It will be dark enough hereafter." The minister looked keenly at the boy, and won over by the humility of his tone, he set the lanthorn on the table.

Then moving towards the door, he stopped and addressed himself to Crispin.
"I go since you oppose with violence my ministrations.

But I shall pray for you, and I will return anon, when perchance your heart shall be softened by the near imminence of your end." "Sir," quoth Crispin wearily, "you would outtalk a woman." "I've done, I've done," he cried in trepidation, making shift to depart.
On the threshold he paused again.