satisfy on his father's croft, in Banffshire; so, to gain more liberty,
he ran off and enlisted. When scarcely more than twenty he took up
with a girl he met in one of the provincial towns in which he happened
to be stationed, and eventually married her. He had asked no
leave--indeed, at his age it would not have been granted; his wife,
therefore, was not "on the strength of the regiment"--in other words,
depended entirely upon his pay, and what little she might earn, for the
necessaries of life, and even for traveling expenses, in case of
removal elsewhere. The girl was a negligent Protestant, and he a
non-practising Catholic. They had been married before a Registrar, and
neither of them entered a church as long as the woman lived. The one
child born to them died a week later, unbaptized.

Such a marriage could not possibly prove happy, but it was more
unfortunate in its results than could have been imagined. The man's
craving for drink grew with its indulgence. His wife, neglected by
him, followed his example and took to that sorry comforter; before long
she had acquired habits of drunkenness that disgusted even him. Soon
she had fallen so low that her life was a crying scandal for its
unrestrained vices.

The man's companions took a savage pleasure in taunting him about his
wife's depravity, until the very mention of her name was hateful to
him. He acknowledged that he himself was bad enough, but her conduct
had reached the extreme of vileness. The result was what might have
been foreseen. Quarrels and recriminations were perpetual. The man
hated the woman because of her vicious life; he hated himself because,
as his conscience reminded him in lucid intervals, he was responsible
for her downfall.