But chiefly he preferred to sing from the psalms in Francis Rous´s version, especially those which speak of battle and vengeance, and the rugged metre and halting lines lost their homeliness, and were clothed with a fine vigour and glowed with inspired fervour as he followed the measure with the motion of his hand. So earnest he was, indeed, and so direct, with a touch of childlike simplicity, that Gervase was lost in continual wonder. As a rule he was reticent regarding his past life and spoke of it in only a general way. On one occasion he had been more communicative. Gervase had become perfectly convalescent and was able to move about without being supported, the fever having entirely disappeared, and his strength having returned in some considerable degree. They were sitting together discussing the various plans by which they might reach Londonderry, and Macpherson´s brows were drawn into a curious frown, as always happened when he was engaged in deep thought. “Could we,” he said, “come haply on a garron, the thing were as good as done; I doubt not we shall find one to our hand as we proceed, and in the meantime you will ride Bayard while I tramp as best I can. I have done as much before, and with a little strategy, which is just and necessary we shall be able to satisfy all civil inquiries.” “´Tis out of the question,” Gervase answered. “Turn and turn will I take if you will; and it may be that this passport of De Laprade´s will be of some service after all, though I do not think the rogues we may meet will care much for aught but a strong arm and the sword´s point.” “´Tis a curious document,” said Macpherson, spreading it out before him and laying his open palm upon it. “I am not a great scholar, but I think no man could tell in what language it was written, or what may be its purport. Even his name has so fallen to vinous pieces that ´tis impossible to pick up the fragments. But I think he hath a good heart, a very good heart.” “That I will answer for,” said Gervase, “and I will answer for it also that you are rejoiced that you did not harm him. I was not brought up to understand his ways, but I know he is brave as a lion and true as steel; and what a handsome fellow he is!” “Pooh! wax and paint. I have seen too many pretty fellows to care for the tribe. But he is as you say, I doubt not, though he be a Frenchman--for which latter reason I do not love him.” “Still, it is no reason why you should hate him.”