Mr Cupples looked up from Gurnall uneasily, fidgeted in his chair, and said testily: "A' nonsense! Moonshine and rainbows! Haud yer tongue! The last line's a' wrang." He then returned with a determined air to the consideration of his _Christian Armour_, while Alec, in whom the minor tone of the poem had greatly deepened the interest he felt in the writer, gazed at him in a bewilderment like that one feels when his eyes refuse to take their proper relation to the perspective before them.

He could not get those verses and Mr Cupples into harmony.

Not daring to make any observation, however, he sat with the last leaf still in his hand, and a reverential stare upon his face, which at length produced a remarkable effect upon the object of it.

Suddenly lifting his eyes-- "What are ye glowerin' at me for ?" he exclaimed, flinging his book from him, which, missing the table, fell on the floor on the further side of it.

"I'm neither ghaist nor warlock.