ed aloud, "Lord God Almichty! yon's him!
yon's himsel'!" and, stretching out her arms, dashed a hand through
a pane, letting in an eddying swirl of wind and water, while the
blood streamed unheeded from her wrist.

The same moment Jean entered the room. She heard both the cry and
the sound of the breaking glass.

"Care what set the beggar-wife!" she exclaimed. "Gang frae the
window, ye randy."

Mistress Croale took no heed. She stood now staring from the window
still as a statue except for the panting motion of her sides. At
the other window stood Janet, gazing also, with blessed face. For
there, like a triton on a sea-horse, came Gibbie through the water
on Snowball, swimming wearily.

He caught sight of Janet at the window, and straightway his
countenance was radiant with smiles. Mistress Croale gave a
shuddering sigh, drew back from her window, and betook herself again
to her dark corner. Jean went to Janet's window, and there beheld
the triumphal approach of her brownie, saving from the waters the
lost and lamented Snowball. She shouted to her brother.

"John! John! here's yer Snawba'; here's yer Snawba'."

John ran to her call, and, beside himself with joy when he saw his
favourite come swimming along, threw the window wide, and began to
bawl the most unnecessary directions and encouragements, as if the
exploit had been brought thus far towards a happy issue solely
through him, while from all the windows Gibbie was welcomed with
shouts and cheers and congratulations.

"Lord preserve 's!" cried Mr. Duff, recognizing the rider at last,
"it's Rob Grant's innocent! Wha wad hae thoucht it?"

"The Lord's babes an' sucklin's are gey cawpable whiles," remarked
Janet to herself.--She believed Gibbie had more faculty than any of
her own, Donal included, nor did she share the prevalent prejudice
of the city that heart and brains are mutually antagonistic; for in
her own case she had found that her brains were never worth much to
her until her heart took up the education of them. But the
intellect is, so much oftener than by love, seen and felt to be
sharpened by necessity and greed, that it is not surprising such a
prejudice should exist.

"Tak 'im roon' to the door."--"Whaur got ye 'im?"--"Ye wad best get
'im in at the window upo' the stair."--"He'll be maist
hungert."--"Ye'll be some weet, I'm thinkin'!"--"Come awa' up the
stair, an' tell's a' aboot it."--A score of such conflicting shouts
assai