“This secret passage ance gaed round great part o’ the biggin,” said the beggar, “and through the wa’ o’ the place I’ve heard Monkbarns ca’ the Refractory” [meaning probably Refectory], “and so awa to the Prior’s ain house. It’s like he could use it to listen what the monks were saying at meal-time,--and then he might come ben here and see that they were busy skreighing awa wi’ the psalms doun below there; and then, when he saw a’ was right and tight, he might step awa and fetch in a bonnie lass at the cove yonder--for they were queer hands the monks, unless mony lees is made on them. But our folk were at great pains lang syne to big up the passage in some parts, and pu’ it down in others, for fear o’ some uncanny body getting into it, and finding their way down to the cove: it wad hae been a fashious job that--by my certie, some o’ our necks wad hae been ewking.” They now came to a place where the gallery was enlarged into a small circle, sufficient to contain a stone seat. A niche, constructed exactly before it, projected forward into the chancel, and as its sides were latticed, as it were, with perforated stone-work, it commanded a full view of the chancel in every direction, and was probably constructed, as Edie intimated, to be a convenient watch-tower, from which the superior priest, himself unseen, might watch the behaviour of his monks, and ascertain, by personal inspection, their punctual attendance upon those rites of devotion which his rank exempted him from sharing with them. As this niche made one of a regular series which stretched along the wall of the chancel, and in no respect differed from the rest when seen from below, the secret station, screened as it was by the stone figure of St. Michael and the dragon, and the open tracery around the niche, was completely hid from observation. The private passage, confined to its pristine breadth, had originally continued beyond this seat; but the jealous precautions of the vagabonds who frequented the cave of St. Ruth had caused them to build it carefully up with hewn stones from the ruin. “We shall be better here,” said Edie, seating himself on the stone bench, and stretching the lappet of his blue gown upon the spot, when he motioned Lovel to sit down beside him--“we shall be better here than doun below; the air’s free and mild, and the savour of the wallflowers, and siccan shrubs as grow on thae ruined wa’s, is far mair refreshing than the damp smell doun below yonder. They smell sweetest by night-time thae flowers, and they’re maist aye seen about rained buildings. Now, Maister Lovel, can ony o’ you scholars gie a gude reason for that?” Lovel replied in the negative.