Quietly the evening passed, by the peaceful lamp and the cheerful fire, with the Latin on the one side of the table, and the stocking on the other, as if ripe and purified old age and hopeful unstained youth had been the only extremes of humanity known to the world.

But the bitter wind was howling by fits in the chimney, and the offspring of a nobleman and a gipsy lay asleep in the garret, covered with the cloak of an old Highland rebel.
At nine o'clock, Mrs.Falconer rang the bell for Betty, and they had worship.

Robert read a chapter, and his grandmother prayed an extempore prayer, in which they that looked at the wine when it was red in the cup, and they that worshipped the woman clothed in scarlet and seated upon the seven hills, came in for a strange mixture, in which the vengeance yielded only to the pity.
'Lord, lead them to see the error of their ways,' she cried.

'Let the rod of thy wrath awake the worm of their conscience that they may know verily that there is a God that ruleth in the earth.

Dinna lat them gang to hell, O Lord, we beseech thee.' As soon as prayers were over, Robert had a tumbler of milk and some more oat-cake, and was sent to bed; after which it was impossible for him to hold any further communication with Shargar.