your name."

When he heard it he asked for my father, whom he had known in old days
at Edinburgh College. Then he inquired into my religious condition with
so much fatherly consideration that I could take no offence, but told
him honestly that I was little of a partisan, finding it hard enough to
keep my own feet from temptation without judging others. "I am weary,"
I said, "of all covenants and resolutions and excommunications and the
constraining of men's conscience either by Government or sectaries.
Some day, and I pray that it may be soon, both sides will be dead of
their wounds, and there will arise in Scotland men who will preach
peace and tolerance, and heal the grievously irritated sores of this
land."

He sighed as he heard me. "I fear you are still far from grace, lad,"
he said. "You are shaping for a Laodicean, of whom there are many in
these latter times. I do not know. It may be that God wills that the
Laodiceans have their day, for the fires of our noble covenant have
flamed too smokily. Yet those fires die not, and sometime they will
kindle up, purified and strengthened, and will burn the trash and
stubble and warm God's feckless people."

He was so old and gentle that I had no heart for disputation, and could
only beseech his blessing. This he gave me and turned once more to his
devotions. I was very weary, my head was splitting with the foul air of
the place, and I would fain have got me to sleep. Some dirty straw had
been laid round the walls of the room for the prisoners to lie on, and
I found a neuk close by the minister's side.

But sleep was impossible, for Muckle John got another fit of cursing He