place. She brought me a few crusts of bread and a jug
of milk, which she had handsomely laced with whisky after the Scottish
manner.

"I am so sorry," she said: "I dared not bring you anything more. We are
so small a family, and my aunt keeps such an eye upon the servants. I
have put some whisky in the milk--it is more wholesome so--and with eggs
you will be able to make something of a meal. How many eggs will you be
wanting to that milk? for I must be taking the others to my aunt--that
is my excuse for being here. I should think three or four. Do you know
how to beat them in? or shall I do it?"

Willing to detain her a while longer in the hen-house, I displayed my
bleeding palms; at which she cried out aloud.

"My dear Miss Flora, you cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs,"
said I; "and it is no bagatelle to escape from Edinburgh Castle. One of
us, I think, was even killed."

"And you are as white as a rag, too," she exclaimed, "and can hardly
stand! Here is my shawl, sit down upon it here in the corner, and I will
beat your eggs. See, I have brought a fork, too; I should have been a
good person to take care of Jacobites or Covenanters in old days! You
shall have more to eat this evening; Ronald is to bring it you from
town. We have money enough, although no food that we can call our own.
Ah, if Ronald and I kept house you should not be lying in this shed! He
admires you so much."

"My dear friend," said I, "for God's sake do not embarrass me with more
alms. I loved to receive them from that hand, so long as they were
needed; but they are so no more, and whatever else I may lack--and I
lack everything--it is not money." I pulled out my sheaf of notes and
detached the top one: it was written for ten pounds, and signed by that
very famous individual, Abraham Newlands. "Oblige me, as you would like
me to oblige your brother if the parts were reversed, and take this
note for the expenses. I shall need not only food, but clothes."

"Lay it on the ground," said she. "I must not stop my beating."

"You are not offended?" I exclaimed.

She answered me by a look that was a reward in itself, and seemed to
imply the most heavenly offers for the future. There was in it a shadow
of reproach, and such warmth of communicative cordiality as left me
speechless. I watched her instead till her hens' milk was ready.

"Now," said she, "taste that."

I did so, and swore it was nectar. She collected her eggs and crouched