"I mean," said Jock, bending towards the Sergeant, "that noo the fingers o’ religion are grippin’ _yer_ windpipe and chokin’ ye, as the evil speerit is grippin’ and chokin’ me--that noo ye hae ministers an’ elders o’ religion kicking ye in the glaur, lauchin at ye, bizzin at ye as a blackguard--that noo when e’en Luckie Craigie an’ Smellie ca’ ye bad, as a’ folks hae ca’ed me a’ my days--I thocht," he continued, with a sarcastic grin, "that ye wad like ane waur than yersel’ to speak wi’ ye, and, if ye liked, to curse wi’ ye! Aha, lad! I’m ready! Say the word, and Jock Hall’s yer man. I ha’e poower noo in me for ony deevilry. Begin!" The Sergeant experienced what is called in Scotland a _grew_--the sort of shiver one feels in a nightmare--as if a real demoniac was in his presence. Fascinated as by a serpent, he said, "Say awa’, Jock, for I dinna understan’ ye." On this Jock became apparently more composed. But when with a suppressed vehemence he was again beginning to speak, it struck the Sergeant to interrupt the current of his passionate thoughts, on the plea that he wished to hear Mary her lesson. His object was, not only to calm Jock, but also to get the child out of the room. "Mary," he said, after having assured her there was no cause of fear, and placing her between his knees, "wha should we trust?" "God!" replied Mary. "Why?" asked the Sergeant. "Because his name is Love, and He is our Faither." "Richt, Mary; and we ought a’ to love our Faither, for He loves us, and to love our neebour as ourselves. Gang awa’ ben to your mither noo. Ye hae done weel." When the door of the bedroom was shut, Jock Hall said, "That’s Luckie Craigie’s lassie? Fine woman, Luckie! Kindly bodie! A gude hoose is hers to sen’ a puir orphan to. Ha! ha! ha! Keep us a’!--it’s a warld this, far ower guid for me! But Luckie is like the lave, and Smellie, to do him justice, as he has mony a time done tae me, is no waur than Luckie: ’When hungry gledds are screichin’, An’ huntin’ for their meat, If they grip a bonnie birdie, What needs the birdie greet?’ An’ ye’re to pay yersel’ for the lassie, Smellie says; an’ ye’re to teach her! A fine lesson yon! Ha! ha! ha! Jock Hall lauchs at baith o’ ye!" The Sergeant was getting angry. Hall seemed now to be rather a free-and-easy blackguard, although there was a weird gleam in his eye which Adam did not understand; and in spite of his self-respect, he felt a desire to hear more from Jock. So he only remarked, looking steadily at him, "Jock! tak’ care what ye say--tak’ care!"