“Just jump onto the bed,” he whispered.  “No one will know that you have not remained in the room.  You shall come out in a few minutes.”

So the burly Adam climbed onto the bed, and the priest shut the door upon his prisoner and fastened the “sneck.”  After hearing the mother’s Confession, he released his captive, and Adam stood by while the saving unction was administered to prepare the poor woman for her last journey.  It was soon over and the priest took his leave.

Adam was quite relieved to find that his mother had been gladdened by the priest’s ministrations—­for she had poured forth grateful thanks for his kindness—­while he had not been compromised in the eyes of his brothers and sisters.  He willingly consented for Mr. McGillivray to return next day to administer Holy Communion for the first—­and probably the last—­time in the life of the dying woman.

“I’ve only one more office to do for your mother, Adam,” the priest had explained, “and then she will be quite at rest.  So I will call to-morrow about this time.”  And Adam had cordially agreed.

But there were others to be reckoned with.  The news of the priest’s visit was soon carried to the Free Church minister, and down he swooped upon the luckless Fordyces that very afternoon.  Poor Adam was the scapegoat.  He it was who had to bear the whole of the blame.  The minister congratulated himself, when he took his leave (without venturing into the sick-room, for the present), that he had successfully prevented any further “popish antics” in that house!

Consequently, when Mr. McGillivray returned next day, according to promise, he was met, not by Adam, but by the younger son—­a dour Presbyterian, of pronounced type.  He absolutely refused to allow the priest to cross the threshold again.  His brother was “oot”; but he had left word that he must not be allowed to enter the house.  The minister, as the brother explained, “had been sair angered” on account of the proceedings of the previous day.  He had threatened to remove Adam from his post of “precentor” should he allow any more intercourse between his mother and any “popish minister.”

Remonstrances, persuasions, entreaties were all unavailing.  The man declared that his mother “didna’ wish to see” Mr. McGillivray.  The latter had therefore reluctantly to submit to circumstances and return home with the Blessed Sacrament, leaving the poor woman “unhouselled”—­although not “unanointed.”  He feared that she had given in to the persuasions of the minister to refuse further help.  But after her death, which occurred a few days later, the good priest ascertained that she had died in most edifying dispositions.  The minister had not visited her, and she had thought it best to wait a little before seeing the priest again, merely on account of her family.  The McGruers, who were present at the last, assured him that she had died a good Catholic—–­her only regret the deprivation of Holy Communion.