standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering.

‘“I wer sure he’d sarve ye out! He’s a grand lad! He’s getten t’ raight sperrit in him! HE knaws - ay, he knaws, as weel as I do, who sud be t’ maister yonder - Ech, ech, ech! He made ye skift properly! Ech, ech, ech!”

‘“Where must we go?” I asked of my cousin, disregarding the old wretch’s mockery.

‘Linton was white and trembling. He was not pretty then, Ellen: oh, no! he looked frightful; for his thin face and large eyes were wrought into an expression of frantic, powerless fury. He grasped the handle of the door, and shook it: it was fastened inside.

‘“If you don’t let me in, I’ll