and not suffered
to turn in that direction. When Saunners spoke of the strange things
that might be happening under "our very een," John listened in silence,
or brought him back to the kirk, and the new members, and the good that
was being done, till they came to the little house by the side of the
moss, out of whose narrow window no welcoming light was gleaming.

"I'm no' used wi't yet," said Saunners with a groan, as he fumbled
awkwardly trying to put the clumsy key into the lock. "It's the hardest
part of my day's work, this coming hame to a dark house. But folk maun
bide what's sent, and be thankful it's nae waur. Gude-nicht to be. Ye
hae shortened my road, and mony thanks. I winna ask ye to come in."

"No. I must be early up and awa' in the morning, and it may be long ere
I be home again. Ye might look in on my mother whiles, when ye're down
our way. She's much alone."

If John had planned his best to win Saunners to friendliness, and to
silence concerning the affairs of Allison Bain, he could have said
nothing more to the purpose than that. Saunners accepted the
invitation, and came now and then to inquire for the health of Mrs
Beaton, and "heard only good words from her," as he said.

He had something to say to most of his friends about the place where he
had laid down his wife to her rest beside her own folk, and even spoke
of the "daft wifie" that he had seen there; but he never uttered a word
as to the story she had told him, and in course of time, as he thought
less about it, it passed quite out of his remembrance--which was best
for all concerned.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"Fear hath a hundred eyes that all agree
To plague her beating heart."

As for Allison, the thought of going away from Nethermuir to escape the
threatened danger, did not stay long with her. It would be wrong to go
away now, she told herself. For another little daughter came to the
manse about this time, and Allison's strength and skill were tried to
meet all demands upon them for a while. Yes, it would be wrong to leave
these good friends who had been kind to her, and above all, wrong to
steal away, as in her first alarm it had come into her mind to do.

And besides, even if that which she feared were to come upon her, and if
by means of Crombie, or by any other means, she were discovered, the
times had gone by when force could be used and a woman carried away
secretly against her will. There would be a g