Less alarming but more irritating was the attempt of the youth of Monypenny and the West town end, to establish a rival firm of Jacobites (without even being sure of the name). They started business (Francie Crabb leader, because he had a kilt) on a flagon of porter and an ounce of twist, which they carried on a stick through the Den¹, saying "Bowf!" like dogs, when they met anyone, and then laughing doubtfully. The twist and porter were seized by Tommy and his followers², and Haggerty-Taggerty, Major, arrived home with his head so firmly secured in the flagon that the solder³ had to be melted before he saw the world again. Francie was in still worse plight⁴, for during the remainder of the evening he had to hide in shame among the brackens, and Tommy wore a kilt.  
One cruel revenge the beaten rivals had. They waylaid⁸ Grizel, when she was alone, and thus assailed⁹ her, she answering not a word.
 
"What's a father?"
 
"She'll soon no have a mither either!"
 
"The Painted Lady needs to paint her cheeks no longer!"
 
"Na, the red spots comes themsels now."
 
"Have you heard her hoasting?"
 
"Ay, it's the hoast o' a dying woman."
 
"The joiner heard it, and gave her a look, measuring her wi' his eye for the coffin¹⁰. 'Five and a half by one and a half would hold her snod,' he says to himsel'."
 
"Ronny-On's auld¹¹ wife heard it, and says she, 'Dinna think, my leddy, as you'll be buried in consecrated¹² ground.'"
 
"Na, a'body kens⁵ she'll just be hauled at the end o' a rope to the hole where the witches was shooled in."
 
"Wi' a paling spar through her, to keep her down on the day o' judgment¹³."
 
Well, well, these children became men and women in time, one of them even a bit of a hero, though he never knew it.
 
Are you angry with them? If so, put the cheap thing aside, or think only of Grizel, and perhaps God will turn your anger into love for her.
 
Great-hearted, solitary¹⁴ child! She walked away from them without flinching¹⁵, but on reaching the Den, where no one could see her—she lay down on the ground, and her cheeks were dry, but little wells of water stood in her eyes.
 
She would not be the Lady Grizel that night. She went home instead, but there was something she wanted to ask Tommy now, and the next time she saw him she began at once. Grizel always began at once, often in the middle, she saw what she was making for so clearly.
 
"Do you know what it means when there are red spots in your cheeks, that used not to be there?"
 
Tommy knew at once to whom she was referring, for he had heard the gossip of the youth of Monypenny, and he hesitated to answer.
 
"And if, when you cough, you bring up a tiny speck¹⁶ of blood?"
 
"I would get a bottle frae the doctor," said Tommy, evasively.
 
"She won't have the doctor," answered Grizel, unguardedly, and then with a look dared Tommy to say that she spoke¹⁷ of her mother.
 
"Does it mean you are dying?"
 
"I—I—oh, no, they soon get better."
 
He said this because he was so sorry for Grizel. There never was a more sympathetic nature than Tommy's. At every time of his life his pity was easily roused for persons in distress¹⁸, and he sought to comfort them by shutting their eyes to the truth as long as possible. This sometimes brought relief to them, but it was useless to Grizel, who must face her troubles.
 
"Why don't you answer truthfully?" she cried, with vehemence²⁰. "It is so easy to be truthful¹⁹!"
 
"Well, then," said Tommy, reluctantly, "I think they generally die."
 
Elspeth often carried in her pocket a little Testament²¹, presented to her by the Rev⁷. Mr. Dishart for learning by heart one of the noblest of books, the Shorter Catechism, as Scottish children do or did, not understanding it at the time, but its meaning comes long afterwards and suddenly, when you have most need of it. Sometimes Elspeth read aloud from her Testament to Grizel, who made no comment, but this same evening, when the two were alone, she said abruptly²²:
 
"Have you your Testament?"
 
"Yes," Elspeth said, producing it.
 
"Which is the page about saving sinners?"
 
"It's all about that."
 
"But the page when you are in a hurry?"
 
Elspeth read aloud the story of the Crucifixion, and Grizel listened sharply until she heard what Jesus said to the malefactor²³: "To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."
 
"And was he?"
 
"Of course."
 
"But he had been wicked all his life, and I believe he was only good, just that minute, because they were crucifying him. If they had let him come down.—"
 
"No, he repented²⁴, you know. That means he had faith, and if you have faith you are saved. It doesna matter how bad you have been. You have just to say 'I believe' before you die, and God lets you in. It's so easy, Grizel," cried Elspeth, with shining eyes.
 
Grizel pondered. "I don't believe it is so easy as that," she said, decisively.
 
Nevertheless she asked presently what the Testament cost, and when Elspeth answered "Fourpence," offered her the money.
 
"I don't want to sell it," Elspeth remonstrated²⁵.
 
"If you don't give it to me, I shall take it from you," said Grizel, determinedly²⁶.
 
"You can buy one."
 
"No, the shop people would guess."
 
"Guess what?"
 
"I won't tell you."
 
"I'll lend it to you."
 
"I won't take it that way." So Elspeth had to part with her Testament, saying wonderingly, "Can you read?"
 
"Yes, and write too. Mamma taught me."
 
"But I thought she was daft," Elspeth <............