manse."

Gavin saw his mother beside him, bare-headed, trembling.

"How could I sit still, Gavin, and the town full o' the skirls of
women and bairns? Oh, Gavin, what can I do for them? They will
suffer most this night."

As Gavin took her hand he knew that Margaret felt for the people
more than he.

"But you must go home, mother," he said, "and leave me to do my
duty. I will take you myself if you will not go with Jean. Be
careful of her, Jean."

"Ay, will I," Jean answered, then burst into tears. "Mr.
Dishart,"' she cried, "if they take my father they'd best take my
mither too."

The two women went back to the manse, where Jean re-lit the fire,
having nothing else to do, and boiled the kettle, while Margaret
wandered in anguish from room to room.

Men nearly naked ran past Gavin, seeking to escape from Thrums by
the fields he had descended. When he shouted to them they only ran
faster. A Tillyloss weaver whom he tried to stop struck him
savagely and sped past to the square. In Bank Street, which was
full move. He had heard the horn. Thrice it sounded, and thrice it
struck him to the heart. He looked again and saw a shadow stealing
along the Tenements, then, another, then half-a-dozen. He