But soon the summer passed away, and the storms and snows of winter swept over the lonely island.

There would be no court until December to try John, and his imprisonment in Kirkwall jail grew every day more dreary.

But no storms kept Christine long away from him.

Over almost impassable roads and mosses she made her way on the little ponies of the country, which had to perform a constant steeple-chase over the bogs and chasms.
All things may be borne when they are sure; and every one who loved John was glad when at last he could have a fair hearing.

Nothing however was in his favor.