“Hout, lassie!” said Ratcliffe.  “Dinna be sae dooms downhearted as a’ that.  There’s mony a tod hunted that’s no killed.  They are weel aff has such a counsel and agent as ye have; ane’s aye sure of fair play.”

But the mourners had become unconscious of his presence.  “O Effie,” said her elder sister, “how could you conceal your situation from me?  O woman, had I deserved this at your hand?  Had ye but spoke ae word——­”

“What gude wad that hae dune?” said the prisoner.  “Na, na, Jeannie; a’ was ower whan once I forgot what I promised when I turned down the leaf of my Bible.  See, the Book aye opens at the place itsell.  O see, Jeannie, what a fearfu’ Scripture!”

“O if ye had spoken ae word again!” sobbed Jeannie.  “If I were free to swear that ye had said but ae word of how it stude wi’ you, they couldna hae touched your life this day!”

“Could they na?” said Effie, with something like awakened interest.  “Wha’ tauld ye that, Jeannie?”

“It was ane that kenned what he was saying weel eneugh,” said Jeannie.

“Hout!” said Ratcliffe.  “What signifies keeping the poor lassie in a swither?  I’se uphand it’s been Robertson that learned ye that doctrine.”

“Was it him?” cried Effie.  “Was it him, indeed?  O I see it was him, poor lad!  And I was thinking his heart was as hard as the nether millstane, and him in sic danger on his ain part.  Poor George!  O, Jeannie, tell me every word he said, and if he was sorry for poor Effie!”

“What needs I tell ye onything about ’t?” said Jeannie.  “Ye may be sure he had ower muckle about onybody beside.”

“That’s no’ true, Jeannie, though a saint had said it,” replied Effie.  “But ye dinna ken, though I do, how far he put his life in venture to save mine.”  And looking at Ratcliffe, checked herself and was silent.

“I fancy,” said he, “the lassie thinks naebody has een but hersell.  Didna I see Gentle Geordie trying to get other folk out of the Tolbooth forbye Jock Porteous?  Ye needna look sae amazed.  I ken mair things than that, maybe.”

“O my God, my God!” said she, throwing herself on her knees before him.  “D’ye ken where they hae putten my bairn?  O my bairn, my bairn!  Tell me wha has taen’t away, or what they hae dune wi’t!”

As his answer destroyed the wild hope that had suddenly dawned upon her, the unhappy prisoner fell on the floor in a strong convulsion fit.

Jeannie instantly applied herself to her sister’s relief, and Ratcliffe had even the delicacy to withdraw to the other end of the room to render his official attendance as little intrusive as possible; while Jeannie commenced her narrative of all that had passed between her and Robertson.  After a long pause: 

“And he wanted you to say something to you folks that wad save my young life?” said Effie.

“He wanted,” said Jeannie, “that I shuld be mansworn!”

“And you tauld him,” said Effie, “that ye wadna hear o’ coming between me and death, and me no aughteen year auld yet?”