The next day M’Brair was abroad in the afternoon, and had a long advising with Janet on the braes where she herded cattle.  What passed was never wholly known; but the lass wept bitterly, and fell on her knees to him among the whins.  The same night, as soon as it was dark, he took the road again for Balweary.  In the Kirkton, where the dragoons quartered, he saw many lights, and heard the noise of a ranting song and people laughing grossly, which was highly offensive to his mind.  He gave it the wider berth, keeping among fields; and came down at last by the water-side, where the manse stands solitary between the river and the road.  He tapped at the back door, and the old woman called upon him to come in, and guided him through the house to the study, as they still called it, though there was little enough study there in Haddo’s days, and more song-books than theology.

‘Here’s yin to speak wi’ ye, Mr. Haddie!’ cries the old wife.

And M’Brair, opening the door and entering, found the little, round, red man seated in one chair and his feet upon another.  A clear fire and a tallow dip lighted him barely.  He was taking tobacco in a pipe, and smiling to himself; and a brandy-bottle and glass, and his fiddle and bow, were beside him on the table.

‘Hech, Patey M’Briar, is this you?’ said he, a trifle tipsily.  ’Step in by, man, and have a drop brandy:  for the stomach’s sake!  Even the deil can quote Scripture—­eh, Patey?’

‘I will neither eat nor drink with you,’ replied M’Brair.  ’I am come upon my Master’s errand:  woe be upon me if I should anyways mince the same.  Hall Haddo, I summon you to quit this kirk which you encumber.’

‘Muckle obleeged!’ says Haddo, winking.

‘You and me have been to kirk and market together,’ pursued M’Brair; ’we have had blessed seasons in the kirk, we have sat in the same teaching-rooms and read in the same book; and I know you still retain for me some carnal kindness.  It would be my shame if I denied it; I live here at your mercy and by your favour, and glory to acknowledge it.  You have pity on my wretched body, which is but grass, and must soon be trodden under:  but O, Haddo! how much greater is the yearning with which I yearn after and pity your immortal soul!  Come now, let us reason together!  I drop all points of controversy, weighty though these be; I take your defaced and damnified kirk on your own terms; and I ask you, Are you a worthy minister?  The communion season approaches; how can you pronounce thir solemn words, “The elders will now bring forrit the elements,” and not quail?  A parishioner may be summoned to-night; you may have to rise from your miserable orgies; and I ask you, Haddo, what does your conscience tell you?  Are you fit?  Are you fit to smooth the pillow of a parting Christian?  And if the summons should be for yourself, how then?’

Haddo was startled out of all composure and the better part of his temper.  ‘What’s this of it?’ he cried.  ’I’m no waur than my neebours.  I never set up to be speeritual; I never did.  I’m a plain, canty creature; godliness is cheerfulness, says I; give me my fiddle and a dram, and I wouldna hairm a flee.’