"Fowk 'at's been ill-guidit, no kennin' whaur their help lies, whiles taks to the boatle.

But this is but a day o' punishment, no a day o' judgment yet, an' I'm thinkin' the warst's near han' ower .-- Gien only Gibbie war here!" Jean left the room, shaking her head, and Janet stood alone at the window as before.

A hand was laid on her arm.

She looked up.

The black eyes were close to hers, and the glow that was in them gave the lie to the tone of indifference with which Mistress Croale spoke.
"Ye hae mair nor ance made mention o' ane conneckit wi' ye, by the name o' Gibbie," she said.
"Ay," answered Janet, sending for the serpent to aid the dove; "an' what may be yer wull wi' him ?" "Ow, naething," returned Mistress Croale.