"Whisht! whisht, mither! Let her hae the length o' her tongue, puir lass! It does her guid, and it does me na hurt. There, lass--the airns are aff, and if you'll o'ny put your kershief aroun' your bonnie wrists they'll sune be weel eneugh." "Take me away! take me away from that horrid ol woman!" cried Faustina, turning her wrath upon the dame and appealing to Cuddie. "Whisht! dinna ye mind her. She's a puir dolted auld carline," said Cuddie, in a voice happily too low to reach the ear of said "carline." "Ye maunna guid her siccan a sair gait, mither," said Cuddie, as they left the cell. "I doobt she has guided hersel' an uco' ill ane," retorted the dame. Faustina was left sitting on the side of the hard bed, weeping bitterly. She did not throw off her bonnet or cloak. She could not make herself at home in this wretched den. Besides, it was bitterly cold; there was no fire in the rusty stove and she wrapped her sables more closely around her. She remained there in the same position, cowering, shivering and weeping, for two or three miserable hours, when she was at length broken in upon by the old dame, who brought in her prison dinner-- coarse beef broth, in a tin can, with an iron spoon, and a thick hunk or oatmeal bread on a tin plate. "What is that!" ask Faustina. "Your dinner. Is it na guid o' the authorities to feed the like o' you for naething?" "My dinner! ugh! Do you think I am going to swallow that swill--fit only for pigs?" exclaimed Faustina, in disgust. "Hech, sirs! what's the warld comming to? It is guid broose, verra guid broose, that many an honest woman would be unco glad to hae for hersel' and her puir bairns, forbye _you!_" said the dame wrathfully. "Take it away! the sight of it makes me ill!" "Verra weel; just as you please. I'll set it here, till ye come to your stomach," said the dame, setting the can and plate down upon the stone floor, for there was no other place to put them. "I want a fire--I am frozen!" cried Faustina. "Why did na ye say sae before?" growled the dame, going out. In a few minutes she came back, bringing coals and kindlings and lighted the fire, and then retreated as sullenly as she had entered. Faustina drew near the stove, and sat down upon the floor to hover over it. When she grew warm her eyes began to glitter dangerously. She turned herself around and surveyed the place. Like the frozen viper thawed to life, her first instinct was to bite. "I would like to set fire to the prison !" she said. But a moment's reflection proved to her the folly of this impulse. If she should use the fire in her stove for such incendiary purposes, herself would be the only thing burned up; the cell of stone and its furniture of iron would escape with a smoking.