"Tak’ anither sup, hinny," he said, reminiscently, as he set the tankard down. Then drawing the back of his hand across his mouth he continued: "It was a fine bit work we did this mornin’, lads. I rarely ta’en pairt in a better job. There’s naethin’ like making an example o’ malignants, and I’m thinkin’ it will be lang before ony mair o’ the women o’ this countryside are misguided enough to throw in their lot wi’ the hill-preachers. She was a thrawn auld besom was Marget Lauchlison. I have kent her mony a year--aye psalm-singing and gabbling texts. Will ye believe it, she’s even flung texts at me. Me! the toon’s halberdier! ’The wicked shall fall by his own wickedness,’ said she: ’The wicked shall be turned into Hell’; ’The dwelling place of the wicked shall come to naught.’ Oh, she had a nesty tongue. But noo she’s cleppin’ wi’ the partans, thank God. Here, Mac, fill me anither jorum. It tak’s a lot o’ yill tae wash the taste o’ the auld besom’s texts off ma tongue." The inn-keeper placed a full tankard beside him. "Tak’ anither sup, hinny," he said with a laugh, and drank deeply. "Lag was by-ordnar’ the day; I thocht he was gaun to let the bit lassock off when he dragged her oot o’ the water. But nae sic thing, thank God! Ma certes, he’s a through-gaun chiel, Lag. The women-fowk thocht she had ta’en the aith when she said ’God save him, an He will.’ But Lag kent fine what was in her black heart. She wanted only to save her life. She was far better drooned--the young rebel! Naethin’ like makin’ an example o’ them when they are young. Certes, I settled her. Tak’ anither sup, hinny." A peal of laughter rang through the kitchen. It was more than I could stand; for notwithstanding all I had seen and done as a trooper some spark of chivalry still glowed in my heart, and I was under the spell of her blue and dauntless eyes. I sprang to my feet. "Curse you for a black-hearted ruffian!" I shouted. "None but a damned cur would make sport of two dead women." A silence absolute and cold fell upon the gathering at my first words, and as I stood there I felt it oppress me. "Whit’s this, whit’s this," cried the halberdier. "A trooper turned Covenanter! I’m thinkin’ Lag and Winram will ha’e something to say to this, an they hear o’t." "Be silent!" I thundered. "I am no Covenanter, but it would be good for Scotland if there were more such women as we drowned this morning, and fewer men with such foul hearts as yours." It was an ill-judged place and time for such a speech, but I was on fire with anger. The halberdier rose to his feet, flung the contents of his tankard in my face, roared with laughter, and cried, "Tak’ anither sup, hinny."