[Illustration:  The suddenness of his fall]

“What need he come stravagin’ doon frae Drumtochty for? it wud set him better tae wait on his ain fouk.  A licht-headed fellow, they say as kens; an’ as for his doctrine—­weel, maybe it’ll dae for Drumtochty.

“Tea?  Did ye expect me tae hae biling water at this ‘oor o’ the nicht?  My word, the money wud flee in this hoose gin a’ wesna here.  Milk’ll dae fine for yon birkie:  he micht be gled tae get onything, sorning on a respectable manse every ither week.”

“You will pardon our humble provision”—­this is how the Rabbi prepared Carmichael; “we have taken my worthy Abigail unawares, and she cannot do for us what in other circumstances would be her desire.  She has a thorn in the flesh which troubles her, and makes her do what she would not, but I am convinced that her heart is right.”

That uncompromising woman took no notice of Drumtochty, but busied herself in a search for the Rabbi’s bag, which he insisted had been brought home from Muirtown that morning, and which was at last found covered with books.

“Do not open it at present, Barbara; you can identify the contents later if it be necessary, but I am sure they are all right”; and the Rabbi watched Barbara’s investigations with evident anxiety.

“Maybe ye hae brocht back what ye started wi’, but gin ye hev, it’s the first time a’ can mind.  Laist sacrament at Edinburgh ye pickit up twal books, ae clothes-brush, an’ a crochet cover for a chair, an’ left a’thing that belonged tae ye.”

“It was an inadvertence; but I obtained a drawer for my own use this time, and I was careful to pack its contents into the bag, leaving nothing.”  But the Rabbi did not seem over-confident.

“There’s nae question that ye hev filled the pack,” said Barbara, with much deliberation and an ominous calmness; “but whether wi’ yir ain gear or some ither body’s, a’ll leave ye tae judge yirsel.  A’ll juist empty the bag on the bukes”; and Barbara selected a bank of Puritans for the display of her master’s spoil.

“Ae slipbody (bodice), weel hemmed and gude stuff—­ye didna tak’ that wi’ ye, at ony rate; twa pillow-slips—­they’ll come in handy, oor ain are wearin’ thin; ae pair o’ sheets—­’ll just dae for the next trimmie that ye want tae set up in her hoose; this’ll be a bolster-slip, a’m judgin’——­”

“It must be the work of Satan,” cried the poor Rabbi, who constantly saw the hand of the great enemy in the disorder of his study.  “I cannot believe that my hands packed such garments in place of my own.”

“Ye’ll be satisfied when ye read the name; it’s plain eneuch; ye needna gang dodderin’ aboot here and there lookin’ for yir glasses; there’s twa pair on your head already”; for it was an hour of triumph to Barbara’s genial soul.

“It’s beyond understanding,” murmured the Rabbi.  “I must have mistaken one drawer for another in the midst of meditation”; and then, when Barbara had swept out of the room with the varied linen on her arm, “This is very humiliating, John, and hard to bear.”