an' syne he keepit a hantle o'
ill aff o' 's brithren.'

'Sae, gran'mither, ither fowk nor Christ micht suffer for the sins o'
their neebors?'

'Ay, laddie, mony a ane has to do that. But no to mak atonement, ye ken.
Naething but the sufferin' o' the spotless cud du that. The Lord wadna
be saitisfeet wi' less nor that. It maun be the innocent to suffer for
the guilty.'

'I unnerstan' that,' said Robert, who had heard it so often that he had
not yet thought of trying to understand it. 'But gin we gang to the gude
place, we'll be a' innocent, willna we, grannie?'

'Ay, that we will--washed spotless, and pure, and clean, and dressed
i' the weddin' garment, and set doon at the table wi' him and wi' his
Father. That's them 'at believes in him, ye ken.'

'Of coorse, grannie.--Weel, ye see, I hae been thinkin' o' a plan for
maist han' toomin' (almost emptying) hell.'

'What's i' the bairn's heid noo? Troth, ye're no blate, meddlin' wi' sic
subjecks, laddie!'

'I didna want to say onything to vex ye, grannie. I s' gang on wi' the
chapter.'

'Ow, say awa'. Ye sanna say muckle 'at's wrang afore I cry haud,' said
Mrs. Falconer, curious to know what had been moving in the boy's mind,
but watching him like a cat, ready to spring upon the first visible hair
of the old Adam.

And Robert, recalling the outbreak of terrible grief which he had heard
on that memorable night, really thought that his project would bring
comfort to a mind burdened with such care, and went on with the
exposition of his plan.

'A' them 'at sits doon to the supper o' the Lamb 'll sit there because
Christ suffert the punishment due to their sins--winna they, grannie?'

'Doobtless, laddie.'

'But it'll he some sair upo' them to sit there aitin' an' drinkin' an'
talkin' awa', an' enjoyin' themsel's, whan ilka noo an' than there'll
come a sough o' wailin' up frae the ill place, an' a smell o' burnin'
ill to bide.'

'What put that i' yer heid, laddie? There's no rizzon to think 'at
hell's sae near haven as a' that. The Lord forbid it!'

'Weel, but, grannie, they'll ken 't a' the same, whether they smell 't
or no. An' I canna help thinkin' that the farrer awa' I thoucht they
war, the waur I wad like to think upo' them. 'Deed it wad be waur.'

'What are ye drivin' at, laddie? I canna unnerstan' ye,' said Mrs.
Falconer, feeling very uncomfortable, and yet curious, almost anxious,
to hear what would come next. 'I trust we winna hae to think muckle--