"It is the common habit of atheists and blasphemers generally." "Then, by the Lord!" exclaimed the irrepressible "Feathery," "All th' atheists an' blasphemers must be a-gathered in the fold o' the Church, for if the pazons doan't twist the Bible to suit their own ends, I'm blest if I knaw whaat else they does for a decent livin'!" Just then a puff of fine odour from the Havana cigar which Helmsley was enjoying floated under the nostrils of Mr.Arbroath, and added a fresh touch of irritation to his temper.

He turned at once upon the offending smoker.
"So! You pretend to be poor!" he snarled, "And yet you can smoke a cigar that must have cost a shilling!" "It was given to me," replied Helmsley gently.
"Given to you! Bah! Who would give an old tramp a cigar like that ?" "I would!" And Tom o' the Gleam sprang lightly up from his chair, his black eyes sparkling with mingled defiance and laughter--"And I did! Here!--will you take another ?" And he drew out and opened a handsome case full of the cigars in question.
"Thank you!" and Arbroath's pallid lips trembled with rage.

"I decline to share in stolen plunder!" "Ha--ha--ha! Ha--ha!" laughed Tom hilariously.

"Stolen plunder! That's good! D'ye think I'd steal when I can buy! Reverend sir, Tom o' the Gleam is particular as to what he smokes, and he hasn't travelled all over the world for nothing: 'Qu'en dictes-vous?
Faut-il a ce musier, _Il n'est tresor que de vivre a son aise_!'" Helmsley listened in wonderment.

Here was a vagrant of the highroads and woods, quoting the refrain of Villon's _Contreditz de Franc-Gontier_, and pronouncing the French language with as soft and pure an accent as ever came out of Provence.