He didn't seem to think that he would have fever, but he said he feared we had small reason to reckon on the prayers of the idolatrous ascending to the throne of grace.

He told me a long story about the Protestant martyrs who were shut up in a dungeon under the sea, on the coast of Aberdeenshire, and it would have been very interesting if I hadn't been thinking of Dennis.
We had turned in for some sleep, and I was rolling myself in my blanket, when Alister called me-- "Jack! did ye ever read Fox's _Book of Martyrs_ ?" "No." "It's a gran' work, and it has some awful tales in it.

When we've a bit of holiday leesure I'll tell ye some." "Thank you, Alister.".