om had burnt so fiercely.
Shuddering and filled with dread, my grandfather turned away, and seeing
several countrymen passing, he inquired if all was over.

"Yes," said they, "and the soldiers are slockening the ashes; but a' the
waters of the ocean-sea will never quench in Scotland the flame that was
kindled yonder this day."

The which words they said with a proud look, thinking my grandfather, by
his arms and gabardine, belonged to the Archbishop's household; but the
words were as manna to his religious soul, and he gave inward praise and
thanks that the selfsame tragical means which had been devised to
terrify the reformers was thus, through the mysterious wisdom of
Providence, made more emboldening than courageous wine to fortify their
hearts for the great work that was before them.

Nothing, however, farther passed; but, changing the course of their
walk, my grandfather and the sorrowful Master Kilspinnie--for so the
poor man of Crail was called--went back, and, entering the bow at the
Shoegate, passed on towards a vintner's that dwelt opposite to the
convent of the Blackfriars; for the day was by this time far advanced,
and they both felt themselves in need of some refreshment.

While they were sitting together in the vintner's apartment, a stripling
came several times into the room, and looked hard at my grandfather, and
then went away without speaking. This was divers times repeated, and at
last it was so remarkable that even Master Kilspinnie took notice of
him, observing, that he seemed as if he had something very particular to
communicate, if an opportunity served, offering at the same time to
withdraw, to leave the room clear for the youth to tell his errand.

My grandfather's curiosity was, by this strange and new adventure to
him, so awakened, that he thought what his companion proposed a discreet
thing; so the honest Bailie of Crail withdrew himself, and, going into
the street, left my grandfather alone.

No sooner was he gone out of the house than the stripling, who had been
sorning about the door, again came in, and, coming close up to my
grandfather's ear, said, with a significance not to be misconstrued,
that if he would follow him he would take him to free quarters, where he
would be more kindly entertained.

My grandfather, though naturally of a quiet temperament, was
nevertheless a bold and brave youth, and there was something in the
mystery of this message--for such he rightly deemed it--t