ardless of her frightened remonstrances and explanations.

"I dinna' care wha ye come frae, chaipel or nae chaipel; ye'll nae be
alloowed oot at sic an hoor!"

In the light of this circumstance it was not difficult to understand
Aleck's desire to reach Fanellan punctually. But to return to his
adventure.

As he approached the old mill he became aware of a light shining from one
of the windows. Thinking that some traveling tinkers had taken up free
lodgings there, he was preparing to pass as quickly and quietly as
possible, to avoid drawing attention upon himself and delaying his
progress. But, to his astonishment, the light suddenly went out, and by
the time he reached the house it was wrapped in darkness. There was
little moonlight (spite of Penny's indignant insinuations), for it was a
cloudy night, and the lad would have had difficulty in finding his way
had it not been so familiar. Curiosity urged Aleck to investigate the
mystery of the light, and, forgetful for the moment of his father's
injunction, he crept quietly to the unglazed window and looked through
the opening. Not a sound revealed the presence of any human being
within. A silence, accentuated no doubt by his startled imagination,
seemed to hang over the place. He was starting on again when a strange
sight met his eyes. Suddenly out of the darkness of the cottage shone
out the figure of a human hand! It seemed to glow with a faint greenish
light, and it held a long pointed knife, which burned with the same pale
hue. Nothing else could be seen except a kind of gauzy floating sleeve,
from which the mysterious hand emerged. Aleck had no wish to investigate
further, but promptly took to his heels, and made for home with all
speed, frightened out of his wits.

As luck would have it, the clock by which he had started was fast, and he
was home in good time. The circumstance tended to render his story more
worthy of credence than it might otherwise have proved. But his evident
terror, and the very incoherence of his narrative, told in his favor.

"He's been a truthful lad all his days," his mother proudly testified;
"while as to drink--not a drop of spirits has passed his lips sin' I gev'
him a wee drop for the spasms when he wes a wean!"

And Aleck's blushing approval of the maternal statement bore witness to
its truth.

I confess that the story did not in the least rouse any superstitious
credence in my mind. Luminous paint was not such an