g field. I climbed upon the stone wall, which
instantly crumbled away, and I was landed on the old Frenchman's domain
without leave, amidst a pile of stones. Startled by the racket, he
looked up from his digging, and, seeing a stranger uprising from the
ruins of the fence, began consigning him to "le diable," with a volley
of vigorous French expletives delivered in peasant patois. I listened to
him, much amused for a moment, and then held up a five-franc piece. As
soon as he beheld it a wondrous change came over him. He eagerly seized
the silver and straightway showed me to a lane which led almost directly
to the railway station. I purchased a ticket for Calais and took the
Sunday afternoon express, and here I am.

[Illustration: OLD EDINBURGH STREET.]

CHAPTER XIII.

WE TALK OF THE STARS AND DO THE OTHER THING.

After we saw George off to Paris on the train Mac and I walked up and
down the platform outside of the station, star-gazing. Mac, with his
brilliant scholarship, elegant speech, logical force and fiery
enthusiasm, made a most fascinating companion.

The study of mankind is man, the old proverb says, but like many other
proverbs there is a full measure of unreality in it. It takes a good
amount of arrogance and conceit for one to fancy he is going to study
and understand men. No man can understand himself, and by no amount of
experience or study will he ever come to understand that subtle thing he
calls his mind or understand the motives that sway him.

I only wish one of those scientists who amuse themselves by pretending
to study and understand human minds and motives could have sat in Mac's
brain that night, have thought his thoughts and heard his speech, while
remaining ignorant of our history and mission. Mac's mind was a
storehouse of erudition, his memory a picture gallery, whose chambers
were gilded and decorated with many a glowing canvas. As a child he was
familiar with the Bible, the Old Testament particularly, and, improbable
as it seems, was still a diligent student of Holy Writ. His mind was
completely saturated with Bible imagery, yet there we were with our
pockets full of forged documents walking up and down that platform
star-gazing, while he talked with intelligent enthusiasm of those silver
flowers in the darkened sky, of stellar space, how in its infinity it
proved the presence of Deity. That with him there was no great and no
little. That a thought sweeping across the God-given