He had not noticed a girl pass the mouth of the trance, trying not very successfully to conceal a brandy-bottle beneath her pinafore, but presently he heard shouts, and looking out he saw Grizel, the Painted Lady’s child, in the hands of her tormentors.  She was unknown to him, of course, but she hit back so courageously that he watched her with interest, until—­until suddenly he retreated farther into the trance.  He had seen Elspeth go on her knees, obviously to ask God to stay the hands and tongues of these cruel boys.

Elspeth had disgraced him, he felt.  He was done with her forever.  If they struck her, serve her right.

Struck her!  Struck little Elspeth!  His imagination painted the picture with one sweep of its brush.  Take care, you boys, Tommy is scudding back.

They had not molested Elspeth as yet.  When they saw and heard her praying, they had bent forward, agape, as if struck suddenly in the stomach.  Then one of them, Francie Crabb, the golden-haired son of Esther Auld, recovered and began to knead Grizel’s back with his fists, less in viciousness than to show that the prayer was futile.  Into this scene sprang Tommy, and he thought that Elspeth was the kneaded one.  Had he taken time to reflect he would probably have used the Thrums feint, and then in with a left-hander, which is not very efficacious in its own country; but being in a hurry he let out with Shovel’s favorite, and down went Francie Crabb.

“Would you!” said Tommy, threatening, when Francie attempted to rise.

He saw now that Elspeth was untouched, that he had rescued an unknown girl, and it cannot be pretended of him that he was the boy to squire all ladies in distress.  In ordinary circumstances he might have left Grizel to her fate, but having struck for her, he felt that he would like to go on striking.  He had also the day’s disappointments to avenge.  It is startling to reflect that the little minister’s height, for instance, put an extra kick in him.

So he stood stridelegs over Francie, who whimpered, “I wouldna have struck this one if that one hadna prayed for me.  It wasna likely I would stand that.”

“You shall stand it,” replied Tommy, and turning to Elspeth, who had risen from her knees, he said:  “Pray away, Elspeth.”

Elspeth refused, feeling that there would be something wrong in praying from triumph, and Tommy, about to be very angry with her, had a glorious inspiration.  “Pray for yourself,” he said to Francie, “and do it out loud.”

The other boys saw that a novelty promised, and now Francie need expect no aid from them.  At first he refused to pray, but he succumbed when Tommy had explained the consequences, and illustrated them.

Tommy dictated:  “Oh, God, I am a sinner.  Go on.”

Francie not only said it, but looked it.

“And I pray to you to repent me, though I ain’t worthy,” continued Tommy.

“And I pray to you to repent me, though I ain’t worthy,” growled Francie. (It was the arrival of ain’t in Thrums.)