The suspense was terrible.  Sam’l and Sanders had both known all along that Bell would take the first of the two who asked her.  Even those who thought her proud admitted that she was modest.  Bitterly the weaver repented having waited so long.  Now it was too late.  In ten minutes Sanders would be at T’nowhead; in an hour all would be over.  Sam’l rose to his feet in a daze.  His mother pulled him down by the coat-tail, and his father shook him, thinking he was walking in his sleep.  He tottered past them, however, hurried up the aisle, which was so narrow that Dan’l Ross could only reach his seat by walking sideways, and was gone before the minister could do more than stop in the middle of a whirl and gape in horror after him.

A number of the congregation felt that day the advantage of sitting in the laft.  What was a mystery to those down-stairs was revealed to them.  From the gallery windows they had a fine open view to the south; and as Sam’l took the common, which was a short cut, though a steep ascent, to T’nowhead, he was never out of their line of vision.  Sanders was not to be seen, but they guessed rightly the reason why.  Thinking he had ample time, he had gone round by the main road to save his boots—­perhaps a little scared by what was coming.  Sam’l’s design was to forestall him by taking the shorter path over the burn and up the commonty.

It was a race for a wife, and several onlookers in the gallery braved the minister’s displeasure to see who won.  Those who favored Sam’l’s suit exultingly saw him leap the stream, while the friends of Sanders fixed their eyes on the top of the common where it ran into the road.  Sanders must come into sight there, and the one who reached this point first would get Bell.

As Auld Lichts do not walk abroad on the Sabbath, Sanders would probably not be delayed.  The chances were in his favor.  Had it been any other day in the week, Sam’l might have run.  So some of the congregation in the gallery were thinking, when suddenly they saw him bend low and then take to his heels.  He had caught sight of Sanders’s head bobbing over the hedge that separated the road from the common, and feared that Sanders might see him.  The congregation who could crane their necks sufficiently saw a black object, which they guessed to be the carter’s hat, crawling along the hedge-top.  For a moment it was motionless, and then it shot ahead.  The rivals had seen each other.  It was now a hot race.  Sam’l, dissembling no longer, clattered up the common, becoming smaller and smaller to the onlookers as he neared the top.  More than one person in the gallery almost rose to their feet in their excitement.  Sam’l had it.  No, Sanders was in front.  Then the two figures disappeared from view.  They seemed to run into each other at the top of the brae, and no one could say who was first.  The congregation looked at one another.  Some of them perspired.  But the minister held on his course.