Mr Cupples, he, on his part, felt that all the future of the youth lay
in his hands. He forgot the pangs of alcoholic desire in his fear lest
Alec should not be able to endure the tedium of abstinence; and Alec's
gratitude and remorse made him humble as a slave to the little
big-hearted man whom he had injured so cruelly.

"I'm tired and maun gang to my bed, for I hae a sair heid," said Mr
Cupples, that first night.

"That's my doin'!" said Alec, sorrowfully.

"Gin this new repentance o' yours and mine turns oot to hae onything
in't, we'll baith hae rizzon to be thankfu' that ye cloured (dinted) my
skull, Alec. But eh me! I'm feared I winna sleep muckle the nicht."

"Wad ye like me to sit up wi' ye?" asked Alec. "I cud sleep i' your
cheir weel eneuch."

"Na, na. We hae baith need to say oor prayers, and we cudna do that
weel thegither. Gang ye awa' to yer bed, and min' yer vow to God and to
me. And dinna forget yer prayers, Alec."

Neither of them forgot his prayers. Alec slept soundly--Mr Cupples not
at all.

"I think," he said, when Alec appeared in the morning, "I winna tak sic
a hardship upo' me anither nicht. Jist open the cat's door and fling
the bottle into somebody's yard. I houp it winna cut onybody's feet."

Alec flew to the cupboard, and dragged out the demon.

"Noo," said Mr Cupples, "open the twa doors wide, and fling 't wi' a
birr, that I may hear its last speech and dyin' declaration."

Alec did as he was desired, and the bottle fell on the stones of a
little court. The clash rose to the ears of Mr Cupples.

"Thank God!" he said with a sigh.--"Alec, no man that hasna gane throu
the same, can tell what I hae gane throu this past nicht, wi' that
deevil i' the press there cryin' 'Come pree (taste) me! come pree me!'
But I heard and hearkened not. And yet whiles i' the nicht, although
I'm sure I didna sleep a wink, I thocht I was fumblin' awa' at the lock
o' the press an' cudna get it opened. And the press was a coffin set up
upo' its en', an' I kent that there was a corp inside it, and yet I
tried sair to open't. An' syne again, I thocht it was the gate o'
Paradees afore which stud the angel wi' the flamin' sword that turned
ilka gait, and wadna lat me in. But I'm some better sin the licht cam,
and I wad fain hae a drappy o' that fine caller tipple they ca'
watter."

Alec ran down and brought it cold from the pump, saying, as Mr Cupples
returned the tumbler with a look of thanks,

"But there