"Repentance is nothing without works," replied she. "Warks!" ejaculated Duncan. "Bring, bring me the rotten linen." The astonished woman went and brought the article. "There's the siller," said Duncan, "I got fra yer husband for that wab. I'll sell it noo for what it is--a piece o' vile deception. Need ye a commodity o' that description?" "I think I could find use for it," said Mrs. Gavin. "It has one good end, but you will come to an ill one when you"----"roll it down," she would have said, but Duncan caught her:-- "When ye cheat yer neighbour," added he. "Ye're quite right, madam; a rotten-hearted wab is just like a rotten-hearted man--they baith come to an ill _end_. Oh, hoo gratefu I am to thae glass-blawers, wha hae blawn awa my crimes, and converted and reformed me!" "He is surely mad, after all," muttered Mrs. Gavin, to herself--"who ever heard of glass-blowers converting sinners? I have always understood that glass-blowers are free livers, and need repentance themselves as much as other folk. How could they convert you, man?" "There are strange mysteries i' the warld," said Duncan; "but we will better let that subject alane. We only, after a', see 'as through a glass darkly.' Stick to the linen--what is it worth?" Mrs. Gavin stated a price, Duncan accepted her offer, and the damaged linen was sold. "Noo," said Duncan, "I'll send ye yer husband." "I will be obliged to you," said Mrs. Gavin; "and if you can get the glass-blowers to give him a blast, your kindness would be increased far beyond my poor powers of recompense." "Ah, madam," said Duncan, "writers are owre well accustomed to _blasts o' the horn_, to care for ordinary wind-fa's. I ken nae better thing for an ill husband (no sayin that Andrew is liable to that charge) than a blast o' a wife's tongue. God be praised, Janet Schulebred will hae nae mair cause to lecture me! We will now live happily durin the remaining portion o' the time o' oor pilgrimage. I hae aye taen something hame to her. Last year I took some whisky bottles--probably made at the glass-warks o' Leith; this time I intend to tak a family Bible. Guid day, madam, I'm awa to The Barleycorn; and frae that I gang to a Bible repository, and then hame." He repaired to The Barleycorn. He saw the landlord standing at the door, with a sombre face. He had the key of the room in his hand, and looked the very picture of a jailor. He knew Duncan instantly, and was proceeding to seize him, when the latter surrendered himself with so much good humour that the publican gave up his purpose and smiled at the prospect of getting his money. "You forgot to come back last night," said the man. "Mr. Gavin says that you were the principal debtor to me for my drink, and that he was merely surety or cautioner. Is that true?"