"It was aboot the fowls--I dinna mind a’ the verse, but a bit o’t was, ’Are not ye better than the fowls?’" "Thank ye for the comfort, Mary dear," said Adam, gravely. From some common instinct of their hearts, Mr. Porteous’s sermon was not spoken of. Was it because Mary was present? or only because Katie was so anxious to see the cheese well toasted for their tea? or because----yet why go on conjecturing! But at evening worship, which closed the day, Adam, as usual, prayed for his minister, and for God’s blessing on the preached word; and he prayed to be delivered from evil-doing, and from fretting at evil-doers, and to be enabled to put his trust in God and do good. Katie on rising from her knees did what she never did before--kissed her husband, saying, "God bless you, my best o’ men!" "Gae awa’, gae awa’!" said the Sergeant; "ye want to gaur me greet like yersel’, do ye? But na, lass, I’m ower auld a sodger for that!" With all his boasting, however, he was very nearly betrayed into the weakness which he professed to despise. But he seemed greatly pleased with his good wife’s kindness, and he added, "Bless you, my braw leddy, a’ the same. And," in a whisper, "ye needna let on to Mary that I’m fashed. It micht vex the lassie." CHAPTER XIII JOCK HALL, THE NE’ER-DO-WEEL We must go back for a few days in our story. During the lonely week which we have but very partially and inadequately described--for how few would believe that a man with a good conscience and good sense could suffer so much in such circumstances!--the Sergeant received a visit from Jock Hall, who has been already mentioned, and whom Katie described as "a ne’er-do-weel". Katie’s estimate of Jock’s character was that of Drumsylie. Most parishes, indeed, have their quota of weaklings in intellect and weaklings in morals. Jock belonged to the latter class. He was a thin, sallow-faced man, of a nervous temperament, and with lank black hair, and sharp piercing unrestful eyes. He might be aged thirty, although he looked liker forty. His jacket was made of fustian, which might have been clean some years before; his corduroy trousers had ragged endings, beneath which were revealed old boots and worn-out stockings; while a tattered bonnet covered his capacious head--a head that, phrenologically, was of a superior type. How Hall lived no one knew, nor cared to know. His lodging, when under a roof, varied with the means at his disposal for paying rent. If any unknown householder in the unknown recesses of the small towns which Jock visited, permitted him to sleep gratis on the floor near the fire, it was a secret known and appreciated by himself only.