Providence did intervene, and that manifestly, only three days before the meeting.  After Sabbath service in the parish church, the Reverend Doctor Hutchison went home to the manse complaining of a violent pain in his breast.

His daughter promptly put on mustard, and sent for the doctor.  By so doing she probably saved his life.  For when the doctor came, he shook his head, and immediately pronounced it lung inflammation of a virulent type.  The Doctor protested furiously that he must go to the meeting on Tuesday.  He would go, even if he had to be carried.  His daughter said nothing, but locked the door and put the key in her pocket, till she got the chance of conveying away every vestige of his clerical clothing out of his reach, locking it where Marget Lamont, his faithful servant, could not find it.  Marget would have brought him a rope to hang himself if the Doctor had called for it.  Sometimes in his delirium he made the speeches which he had meant to make at the school-board meeting on Tuesday; and sometimes, but more rarely, he opened the meeting with prayer.  Grace sat by the side of the bed and moistened his lips.  He said it was ridiculous—­that he was quite well, and would certainly go to the meeting.  Grace said nothing, and gave him a drink.  Then he went babbling on.

The meeting was duly held.  As the Kers had foretold, Mr. Calvin was voted into the chair unanimously, owing to a feint of Saunders Ker’s, who proposed that the publican majority elder take the chair and open the proceedings with prayer—­which so frightened that gentleman that he proposed Mr. Calvin before he knew what he was about.  It was “more fitting,” he said.

Dr. Hutchison fitted him afterwards for this.

At the close of the prayer, which was somewhat long, the Clerk proposed that, owing to the absence of an important member, they should adjourn the meeting till that day three weeks.

Mr. Calvin looked over at the Clerk, who was a broad, hearty, dogmatic man, accustomed to wrestle successfully with tenants about reductions and improvements.

“Mr. Clerk,” he said sharply, “it is your business to advise us as to points of law.  How many members of this board does it take to make a quorum?”

“Three,” said the solicitor promptly.

“Then,” answered Mr. Calvin, with great pith and point, “as we are one more than a quorum, we shall proceed to our business.  And yours, Mr. Clerk, is to read the minutes of last meeting, and to take note of the proceedings of this.  It will be as well for you to understand soon as syne that you have no locus standi for speech on this board, unless your opinion is asked for by the chair.”

This was an early instance of what was afterwards, in affairs imperial, called the closure, a political weapon of some importance.  The Kers afterwards observed that they always suspected that “Auld Wullie” (referring to the Prime Minister of the time) studied the reports of the Howpaslet school-board proceedings in the Bordershire Advertiser.  Indeed, Saunders Ker was known to post one to him every week.  So they all knew where the closure came from.