ve, they left the mortar-gallery to its fate, and returned to the
kitchen, where they were met by the anxious glances and questions of
their comrades.

The fire, meanwhile, could scarcely be got to burn, and the whole
place was full of smoke, besides being wet with the sprays that burst
over the roof, and found out all the crevices that had not been
sufficiently stopped up. Attending to these leaks occupied most of
the men at intervals during the night. Ruby and his friend the smith
spent much of the time in the doorway, contemplating the gradual
destruction of their workshop.

For some time the gale remained steady, and the anxiety of the men
began to subside a little, as they became accustomed to the ugly
twisting of the great beams, and found that no evil consequences
followed.

In the midst of this confusion, poor Forsyth's anxiety of mind became
as nothing compared with the agony of his toothache!

Bremner had already made several attempts to persuade the miserable
man to have it drawn, but without success.

"I could do it quite easy," said he, "only let me get a hold of it,
an' before you could wink I'd have it out."

"Well, you may try," cried Forsyth in desperation, with a face of
ashy paleness.

It was an awful situation truly. In danger of his life; suffering the
agonies of toothache, and with the prospect of torments unbearable
from an inexpert hand; for Forsyth did not believe in Bremner's
boasted powers.

"What'll you do it with?" he enquired meekly. "Jamie Dove's small
pincers. Here they are," said Bremner, moving about actively in his
preparations, as if he enjoyed such work uncommonly.

By this time the men had assembled round the pair, and almost forgot
the storm in the interest of the moment.

"Hold him, two of you," said Bremner, when his victim was seated
submissively on a cask.

"You don't need to hold me," said Forsyth, in a gentle tone.

"Don't we!" said Bremner. "Here, Dove, Ned, grip his arms, and some
of you stand by to catch his legs; but you needn't touch them unless
he kicks. Ruby, you're a strong fellow; hold his head."

The men obeyed. At that moment Forsyth would have parted with his
dearest hopes in life to have escaped, and the toothache, strange to
say, left him entirely; but he was a plucky fellow at bottom; having
agreed to have it done, he would not draw back.

Bremner introduced the pincers slowly, being anxious to get a good
hold of the tooth. Forsyth uttered a