No other names would mean anything.
There were two roads by which to return from my uncle's house in the High Street to my home in Moodie Street at the foot of the town, one along the eerie churchyard of the Abbey among the dead, where there was no light; and the other along the lighted streets by way of the May Gate.

When it became necessary for me to go home, my uncle, with a wicked pleasure, would ask which way I was going.

Thinking what Wallace would do, I always replied I was going by the Abbey.

I have the satisfaction of believing that never, not even upon one occasion, did I yield to the temptation to take the other turn and follow the lamps at the junction of the May Gate.

I often passed along that churchyard and through the dark arch of the Abbey with my heart in my mouth.