no reply, but she was evidently much moved; at
last she gave a wild skreigh, which brought the rest of the nuns, to the
number of thirteen, all rushing into the room. Then ensued a dreadful
tempest of all feminine passions and griefs, intermingled with
supplications to many a saint; but the powers and prerogatives of their
saints were abolished in Scotland, and they received no aid.

Though their lamentation, as my grandfather used to say, could not be
recited without moving to mirth, it was yet so full of maidenly fears
and simplicity at the time to him, that it seemed most tender, and he
was disturbed at the thought of driving such fair and helpless creatures
into the bad world; but it was his duty;--so, after soothing them as
well as he could, and representing how unavailing their refusal to go
would be, the superior composed her grief, and exhorting the nuns to be
resigned to their cruel fate, which, she said, was not so grievous as
that which many of the saints had in their day suffered, they all became
calm and prepared for the removal.

My grandfather told them to take with them whatsoever they best liked in
the house; and it was a moving sight to see their simplicity therein.
One was content with a flower-pot; another took a cage in which she had
a lintie; some of them half-finished patterns of embroidery. One aged
sister, of a tall and spare form, brought away a flask of eye-water
which she had herself distilled; but, saving the superior, none of them
thought of any of the valuables of the chapel, till my grandfather
reminded them, that they might find the value of silver and gold
hereafter, even in the spiritual-minded town of Irvine.

There was one young and graceful maiden among them who seemed but little
moved by the event; and my grandfather was melted to sympathy and sorrow
by the solemn serenity of her deportment, and the little heed she took
of anything. Of all the nuns she was the only one who appeared to have
nothing to care for; and when they were ready, and came forth to the
gate, instead of joining in their piteous wailings as they bade their
peaceful home a long and last farewell, she walked forward alone. No
sooner, however, had she passed the yett, than, on seeing the armed
company without, she stood still like a statue, and, uttering a shrill
cry, fainted away, and fell to the ground. Every one ran to her
assistance; but when her face was unveiled to give her air, Dominick
Callender, who was