flouted before his people by a hussy.  She was without reverence, she knew no difference between an Auld Licht minister, whose duty it was to speak and hers to listen, and herself.  This woman deserved to be—.  And the look she cast behind her as she danced and sang!  It was sweet, so wistful; the presence of purity had silenced him.  Purity!  Who had made him fling that divit?  He would think no more of her.  Let it suffice that he knew what she was.  He would put her from his thoughts.  Was it a ring on her finger?

Fifty yards in front of him Gavin saw the road end in a wall of soldiers.  They were between him and the manse, and he was still in darkness.  No sound reached him, save the echo of his own feet.  But was it an echo?  He stopped, and turned round sharply.  Now he heard nothing, he saw nothing.  Yet was not that a human figure standing motionless in the shadow behind?

He walked on, and again heard the sound.  Again he looked behind, but this time without stopping.  The figure was following him.  He stopped.  So did it.  He turned back, but it did not move.  It was the Egyptian!

Gavin knew her, despite the lane of darkness, despite the long cloak that now concealed even her feet, despite the hood over her head.  She was looking quite respectable, but he knew her.

He neither advanced to her nor retreated.  Could the unhappy girl not see that she was walking into the arms of the soldiers?  But doubtless she had been driven from all her hiding-places.  For a moment Gavin had it in his heart to warn her.  But it was only for a moment.  The nest a sudden horror shot through him.  She was stealing toward him, so softly that he had not seen her start.  The woman had designs on him!  Gavin turned from her.  He walked so quickly that judges would have said he ran.

The soldiers, I have said, stood in the dim light.  Gavin had almost reached them, when a little hand touched his arm.

“Stop,” cried the sergeant, hearing some one approaching, and then Gavin stepped out of the darkness with the gypsy on his arm.

“It is you, Mr. Dishart,” said the sergeant, “and your lady?”

“I—.” said Gavin.

His lady pinched his arm.

“Yes,” she answered, in an elegant English voice that made Gavin stare at her, “but, indeed, I am sorry I ventured into the streets to-night.  I thought I might be able to comfort some of these unhappy people, captain, but I could do little, sadly little.”

“It is no scene for a lady, ma’am, but your husband has—.  Did you speak, Mr. Dishart?”

“Yes, I must inf—­”

“My dear,” said the Egyptian, “I quite agree witfe you, so we need not detain the captain.”

“I’m only a sergeant, ma’am.”

“Indeed!” said the Egyptian, raising her pretty eyebrows, “and how long are you to remain in Thrums, sergeant?”

“Only for a few hours, Mrs. Dishart.  If this gypsy lassie had not given us so much trouble, we might have been gone by now.”