They then drew near, and heard the following words, while the remarks that they made were said aside among themselves. "My fate, you see, has been a strange one, father. I was separated from my parents so young that I scarcely remember them. But the Scots have been kind to me, and I have loved them. I have never been unhappy, except when long confined to a place, which I dislike exceedingly; and as I have hopes that this change will add somewhat to my freedom, I rejoice in it, without weighing circumstances. If those fond hopes should be realised, I promise to you, father, that the first use I will make of my liberty, shall be to sit at your feet, and learn that wonderful and mysterious book." "Do you hear that?" said the poet with great emphasis, but in a half whisper; "he has gotten her broken already to learn the book of the black art. Then the deil's bargain and witchcraft comes next; then the harassing of the whole country side, dancing in kirkyards, and riding on the wind; and then, mayhap, the stake and the faggot end the matter that is but just beginning. Alak, and wo is me! I say, in the king's name, and in the warden's, let them be separated." "Gude sauf us!" exclaimed Charlie. "There's nae man sure o' his life an a' this be true! But a' fair play. Nae self amang us. Hist, and let us hear what he is saying in answer." "Daughter," said the friar, half crying with joy, "doth not my heart yearn over thee, even as a mother yearneth over the child of her bosom? Lo, I will be unto thee as a father, and thou shalt be unto me as a daughter." "Hear what the old rascal is saying!" said the poet. "And behold the fruits of our labours shall spring up into life;"-- "Oh, this is past all sufferance!" said the poet. --"For, O thou fair one, whose beauty is as the beauty of the morning, and whose innocence surpasseth that of the kid, or the lamb, or the young roe, when they are playing upon the mountains,"-- "Gude faith, Mr Carol," said Charlie aside, "it's that auld chap that's the poet; an' no you." "Humph! mere fustian!" said the poet. The friar still went on:-- --"That beauty will decay, as the rose fadeth on the brows of Shinar or Hermon; and that innocence shall be perverted by the sinful and regardless people among whom thou sojournest, and shall become, as it were, betrothed to sin and corruption; yea, and that eye, that shineth like the dews of the morning, shall be darkened. But, O beloved maiden! there is that in this little book, yea, I say unto thee, even in this old, neglected, and despised book, that, unto those who learn it, shall prove the savour of life unto life; and if thou dost learn and cherish the things contained in this book thou shalt never die!" "Ay, billy, that is a yanker!" said Tam aside: "When ane is gaun to tell a lie, there's naething like telling a plumper at aince, and being done wi't."