Part 14

'Waur nor that; waur nor that,' replied the other. 'I believe 'twas him.'

'Anither fifty yards an' we'll be hame,' said the Minister. 'See, there's the licht i' the windie showing fine.'

As soon as they were within doors the Minister placed his trembling companion in the old leathern chair in his little sanctum, made up the fire, and poured him out a glass of whisky with hot water from the kettle that was opportunely ready on the hob.

'And now, Minister,' said the rescued one, after imbibing the goodly contents of his glass, 'what can I do for ye by way o' recompense for saving me the night?'

'Did I hear ye confessin' that ye had wranged a lass--by name Jeannie?' asked the minister, seriously, by way of answer.

'Ay, ye did that,' replied the penitent fervently, 'and I swore to right her. I'll mak her my wife at aince; I swear it again--before ye.'

'I'll haud ye to it, mind,' said the Minister gravely; then he inquired thoughtfully, 'What wull ye do by way o' further recompense for being saved the nicht?' He paused. 'Weel,' he continued, 'there's some that had sinned like ye i' the auld times that desired to prove their repentance and their gratitude to Heaven for timeous rescue by some outward an' visible symbol, sic, for example, as building a kirk or foundin' an orphanage.'

'Eh, but, Minister,' ejaculated the penitent, turning white again, 'yon's a work for kings and suchlike, no' for a poor farmer like me.'

'A puir farmer,' commented his mentor, 'is no' ane that gives £500 for a pedigree bull.' There was silence for a while. The penitent groaned within himself as he regarded the implacable face in front of him. Then he said suddenly, 'No a kirk, Minister,' and further ventured wheedlingly, ''tis impossible, but somethin' for the kirk--a new pulpit, for instance, or a bit organ, or some heating for the winter.' The Minister shook his head.

'The kirk disna care aboot organs, and the folk hereawa are hardy and winna want ony heatin',' he replied slowly; then with the twinkle in his eye he explained further, 'No, that is for pleesure purposes.' He reflected a moment or two profoundly, then with a happy inspiration suggested an alternative. 'A stained-glass windie micht be a guid an' righteous gift, I'm thinkin'.'

'That's mair like it,' responded the penitent, almost with joy, finishing off his glass and holding it out suggestively for replenishment.

'Hoo muckle would it come to, think ye--£100 belike?'

The Minister replenished his guest's glass hospitably before replying.

'We'd best mak it guineas,' he said thoughtfully.

'Right!' cried the other, his spirits visibly rising. 'I've got a cheque-book on me, an' I'll write it out for ye this instant moment.'

The Minister took the cheque silently, dried it carefully on his blotting-pad, then tucked it safely away in his Bible.

'An' noo,' he said to his penitent, 'noo I'll set ye awa for the inn.'

'Ye'll never be for turning me out into the darkness again?' wailed Elliot, his face paling perceptibly.

'I'll gang wi' ye,' replied the Minister, 'I'll guide ye; and wi' this,' he took up his heavy 'crook,' 'I'll fettle "Auld Hornie."'

'I don't care about the wager,' continued the other, desirous of putting off the evil moment; 'here's the sovereign--for yourself or the old shepherd.'

Serious as before, the Minister took the sovereign and laid it on the Bible as he said:

'If ye dinna gang back to the inn the landlord an' his lassies will be up a' nicht seekin' ye, an' ye'll be the talk o' the hail countryside.'

His visitor sighed heavily and looked wistfully at the whisky bottle, but the Minister was adamant. 'No' anither sup till the windie's in,' he thought to himself.

'Well, Minister,' said his guest with resignation, as he rose slowly up from his chair, 'I'll go back, but keep a close tongue, ye ken.'

'I'm used to daein' that,' replied the other, as he ushered his guest out into the darkness, and led him back to the 'Wool Pack' without mishap.

On his return the Minister paused by the kirk yett, and thus soliloquised:

'I never cared muckle for that camsterie goat o' Ringan's, but he wis gey useful the nicht there's no denyin', whilst as for auld cuddy, dod! but he was in fell voice, an' cam in punctual as the precentor.' The Reverend Alexander Macgregor thrust out an arm on high, turned about on heel and toe, as though to secret piping. Then he resumed his way to the manse, pondering now what should be the subject of the stained-glass window. Suddenly he stood stock still. He had it! 'It wull represent Palm Sunday--the entry of our Lord intil the Holy Ceety--ridin' in on an ass.'

ELDER 'MACHIAVELLI-ER'