I guessed that, with native caution, he was as yet averse to let me see his resting-place, or the place in which he stored his food. In my heart of hearts the slight stung me, and then I realised that I had no right to expect that a Covenanter should trust me absolutely, on the instant. In a few moments he was back again, and I was amazed at the quantity of food he brought with him. It was wrapped in a fair cloth of linen, which he spread carefully on the hill-side, arranging the food upon it. There were farles of oatcake, and scones, besides the remains of a goodly leg of mutton. When the feast was spread he stood up and taking off his bonnet began to pray aloud. I listened till he had finished his lengthy prayer, refraining from laying hands upon any of the toothsome food that lay before me. When he had ground out a long "Amen," he opened his eyes and replaced his bonnet. Then he cut a generous slice of mutton and passed it to me. "I never break my fast," he said, "without thanking God, and I am glad to see that you are a well-mannered young man. I dare hardly have expected so much from a trooper." "Ah," I answered, "I have had advantages denied to most of the troopers." He nodded his head, and lapsing into the speech of the country-side, as I had yet to learn was his wont whenever his feelings were stirred, he said: "That reminds me of what once befell mair than thirty years sin’ when I was daunnerin’ along the road from Kirkcudbright to Causewayend. It was a summer day just like this, and on the road I foregathered wi’ a sailor-body that had come off a schooner in Kirkcudbright. We walked along and cracked, and I found him, like every other sailor-man, to be an interesting chiel. By and by we cam’ to a roadside inn. I asked him to join me in a bite and sup. The inn-keeper’s lass brocht us scones and cheese and a dram apiece, and when they were set afore us, I, as is my custom, took off my bonnet and proceeded to thank the Lord for these temporal mercies. When I opened ma een I found that my braw sailor lad had gulped doon my dram as weel as his ain, while I was asking the blessing. ’What dae ye mean by sic a ploy?’ says I; but the edge was ta’en off ma anger when the sailor-man, wiping his moo’ wi’ the back o’ his haun’, said, ’Weel, sir, the guid Book says ye should watch as weel as pray.’" At the memory of the trick played upon him my companion burst into laughter, and I have rarely heard a happier laugh. He was a generous host, and pressed me to take my fill. "There is plenty for us both," he said. "Dinna be blate, my lad, help yersel’." Then as he offered me another slice of mutton, he said: "I am thinking that the ravens are kinder to me than they were to Elijah, for, so far as I know, they never brocht him a mutton ham. But who ever heard o’ a braxy sheep in the wilds o’ Mount Carmel!" and he laughed again.