The streets were deserted, save for ourselves, for midnight was at hand. "The Castle," he said, "is just ahead of us, but we are not going so far. This is our destination," and he turned into a narrow Wynd on the right side of the street and passed through an open door just beyond its mouth. In the shadow of the doorway he lighted his candle and proceeded to climb the stair. On the second floor he knocked gently at a door which, after a pause, was opened noiselessly by an old woman. We entered. My companion whispered a word or two in her ear, and taking a leathern pouch from one of his pockets pressed some money into her hand. "Be kind to the lad," he said, "he has travelled far." The old woman looked at me, and with the coins still gleaming in her open palm, said: "Ye can trust me, Maister Burgess. He’s no’ to peety if he has ane o’ my guid cauf beds to sleep on, and a bowl o’ parritch in the morning." Mr. Burgess held out his hand to me in farewell. "God keep you," he said. "And when you see my friend again, tell him I thank him with all my heart. If God will, I shall communicate with him when I reach a place of safety. If not----" and he raised his eyes to the low ceiling and, dropping my hand, turned and was gone. *CHAPTER XXXV* *WITHIN SIGHT OF ST. GILES* The old woman closed the door, and lighting a candle led me to a room and left me. I found that the bed was all that she had claimed for it; and after my many months of fitful sleep on my bracken couch on the hard floor of the cave, and my weary journey, this mattress of chaff, into which I sank as soon as I lay down, seemed a couch for a king. As I turned over on my side and composed myself to sleep, I had but one regret. Weary as I found myself, it would be impossible for me to get back to the cave in time for the great Conventicle which was to be held among the Closeburn hills upon the coming Sabbath. My sleep was dreamless, and when I awoke the torch of the sun was blazing outside my narrow window. Having dressed myself, I made for the kitchen, where I found the good-wife busy over the fire. She turned as she heard my footsteps and asked: "Are ye weel rested? Ye maun be, for ye’ve sleepit the better pairt o’ twal ’oors. I knocked at your door at ten o’clock; syne I tappit again at half-eleeven, but for a’ the answer ye gi’ed, ye micht ha’e been the Castle Rock. So I juist left ye your lane, and here ye are at lang last, famished nae doot!" I was surprised to learn that I had slept so long, but the rest had done me good service and I felt greatly refreshed. "There’s ae virtue aboot parritch, forby ithers," she said--"a wee bit extra boilin’ does nae hairm, which is mair than can be said for ony ither dish except sheep’s-heid broth." When my meal was over I rose to go, and as I did so I offered to pay the good woman for her hospitality.