atween the Session and Sergeant Mercer. He is verra ill, an' the thocht is neither pleasant nor satisfactory to us that he should die-a providential event which micht happen-wi' this scandal ower his head. I am willin', for ane, to do whatever is reason. able in the case, and I'm sure sae are ye; for ye ken, Mr. Menzies, there's nae man perfec-nane! The fac is, I'm no perfec' mysel'!" confessed Mr. Smellie, with a look intended to express the humility of which he was profoundly unconscious. Mr. Menzies, though not at all prepared for this sudden outburst of charity, welcomed it very sincerely. "I'm glad," said he, "to hear a man o' your influence in the Session say so"--for Menzies had himself personally experienced to a large degree the dour influence of the draper over him; and, though his better nature had often wished to rebel against it, yet the logical meshes of his more astute and strong-willed brother had hitherto entangled him. But now, with the liberty of speech granted in so genial a manner by Smellie, Mr. Menzies said, "I wall admit that Mr. Mercer was, until this unfortunate business happened, a maist respectable man-I mean he was apparently, and I wad fain houp sincerely- a quiet neebour, and a douce elder. I never had cause to doot him till the day ye telt me he had been ance a poacher. But we mauna be ower hard, Mr. Smellie, on the sins o' youth, or even o' riper years. Ye mind the paraphrase→→→ "For while the lamp holds on to burn, I wad do onything that was consistent to get him oot o' this job wi' the minister an' the Session. But hoo can it be managed, Mr. Smellie ?" "I think," said Smellie, meditatively, "that if we could only get the minister pleased, things wad richt.” "Between oorsels as his frien's," said Menzies, with a laugh, "he's no casy to please when he taks a thraw! But maybe we're as muckle to blame as him." peace sake, wad never speer hoo it was done, and we wad hae a guid excuse for sayin' nae mair about it in the Session. If the Sergeant dee'd, nae hairm would be done; if he got weel, he wad be thankfu' that the strammash was a' ower, and himsel' restored, wi'oot being pit aboot for his bird. Eh?" "I wadna like to meddle wi' the cratur," said Menzies, shaking his head. "But, man, do ye no see," argued Smellie, "that it wad stultify you to refuse doing what is easier for you than for him to do? Hoo can ye blame him for no killing a pet o' his dead bairn, if ye wadna kill a strange bird yoursel' ?" "Can ye no kill't then?" asked Menzies. "I wad hae nae difficulty in doing that-nane,” said Smellie, "but they wadna trust me, and wadna │ lippen to me; but they wad trust you. It's surely your duty, Mr. Menzies, to do this, and mair, for peace." "Maybe," said Menzies. "It's a cruel job. I'll think aboot it." "Ay," said Smellie, putting his hand on his shoulder; "an' ye'll do it, too, when ye get the oppor tunity-I dinna say to kill't, that needna be; but onyhoo, to let it flee awa'-that's the plan! Try't. If the wife consents ye canna blame yersel'. I'm awfu' keen to get this job by, an' this stane o' offence out o' the road. But mind, ye'll never, never, let on I bid ye, or it will blaw up the mercifu' plan. Will ye keep a quiet sough aboot me, whatever ye do? And, moreover, never breathe a word about the auld poaching business; I hae reasons for this, Mr. Menzies reasons." Such was Smellie's "game," as it might be called. For his own selfish ends he was really anxious to get Mr. Porteous to feel kindly towards the Sergeant, and to retrace as far as possible all the steps he had taken in the case. He was actuated by fear lest Adam, if crushed, should be induced to turn against him, and, in revenge, expose his former dishonest | conduct. There possibly mingled with this motive a slight feeling of admiration and gratitude for "That bird," remarked Smellie, as he poked up his the generous part which Adam had played towards almost extinguished fire, "has played a' the mis-him-though it is just as likely that he hated Adam; chief! Could we no get it decently oot o' the way yet, Mr. Menzies ?" "What d'ye mean, neebour?" asked Menzies, looking puzzled. "Weel, I'll tell ye," replied the draper. "The Sergeant and me, ye ken, cast oot; but you and him, as well as the wife, are friendly. Noo, what do ye say to seeing them in a friendly way; and as the Sergeant is in bed "They say it's fivver," interrupted Menzies, "and may come to be verra dangerous." for there is nothing more hateful to a proud, bad¦ man, than to be under an obligation to one whom he personally dislikes. It was very doubtful how far Mr. Porteous, from the strong and public position he had taken in the case, would, or could yield, unless he had opened up to him some such back-door of escape as Smellie was contriving. If this could be accomplished without himself being implicated, Smellie saw some hope of ultimate reonciliation, and the i consequent removal on the Sergeant's part of the temptation to "peach." "Weel, a-weel," said Smellie, "in that case what Mr. Menzies was ill at ease. The work assigned to I propose micht be easier dune: the wife micht gie him by Smellie was not agreeable, and he was only you the bird, for peace sake-for conscience sake-induced to attempt its performance in the hope that for her guidman's sake-and ye micht do awa' wi't, and the Sergeant ken naething about it; for, ye see, being an auld sodger, he's prood as prood can be; and Mr. Porteous wad be satisfied, and maybe, for the escape of the starling would lead ultimately to the restoration of Adam, and the quashing of all-proceedings against him. With these feelings he called upon Mrs. Mercer. He was received very coldly by her. She asso. ciated him with what she called the "conspiracy," and felt grieved besides that he had never visited her husband during those previous weeks of trial. He was, as she expressed it, "a sight for sair een." Mr. Menzies made the best excuse he could, and described the circumstances in which he had been placed towards Adam as the reason why he had not visited her sooner. He said that however painful it was to him, he had nevertheless been obliged by his ordination vows to do his duty, and he hoped not in vain, as he might now be the means of making peace between his friend, Mr. Mercer, and the minister. "I'm Charlie's bairn," said the Starling, just as Menzies had given a preliminary cough, and was about to approach the question which had chiefly brought him to the cottage. "I'm Charlie's bairn→→ a man's a man-kick kur-whitt, whitt?' The Starling seemed unable or unwilling to end the sentence; at last it came out clear and distinct a man's a man for a' that." Mr. Menzies did not feel comfortable. "Dinna think, dinna think," said. Mr. Menzies, "that I propose to kill the bit thing "-Katie dropped her eyes again on her apron" but," he continued, "I canna see what hairm it wad do, and I think it wad do a hantle o' guid, if ye wad let me tak oot the cage, and let the bird flee awa' to sing wi' the lave o' birds." "I dinna wunner, Mrs. Mercer," at last he said, "at you and Adam likin' that bird! He is really enticing, and by ordinar, I maun confess." Katie rose up, her face pale with-dare we say it? "There's naething wrang wi' the bird," said Katie-suppressed passion. This address of Menzies was examining the seam of her apron, and adding in an indifferent tone of voice, "if folk wad only let it alane, it's discreet, and wad hairm naebody." "I'm sure, Mrs. Mercer," he said, "I'm real sorry aboot the hale business; and I am resolved, if possible, to get Adam oot o' the han's o' the Session, and bring peace atween a' parties." ་ 1 strength and comfort indeed in her affliction! She seized his arm, drew him gently to the door of her bed-room, which was so far open as to enable him to see Adam in his bed sound asleep. One arm of the Sergeant was extended over the bed, his face was towards them, and his grey locks escaped from under his nightcap; he looked calm and composed. Katie Katie shook her foot, twirled her thumbs, but said then led Menzies to the door, and he followed her as nothing. by a blind instinct. She then whispered in his ear→→ "I wadna gie that man in health or sickness, life or death, for a' the Session! If he's no a Christian, I'm nane, for I want to be like him. If he hasna God's blessing, wae's me for the world! I daur ye to come here, and speak ill o' him, as if he was in ony faut! I daur ony o ye touch his bird! As weel howk a grave for me as for Charlie's bairn! Tell that to Smellie-tell't to the parish, and lee me alane wi' my ain heart, my ain guidman, and my ain Saviour, to live or dee as the Almighty wills!" "It's a pity indeed," the elder continued, "that a bird should come atween an office-bearer like Adam, and his minister and the Session! It's no richt-it's no richt; and yet neither you nor Adam could pit it Tawa, e'en at the request o' the Session, wi' yer ain haun's. Na, na-that was askin' ower muckle." "Ye ken best, nae doot," said Katie, with a touch of strcasm in her voice. "You and the Session hae madé a bonnie jób o' the guidman noo!" "I'm grieved he's no weel," said Menzies; "but to be candid, Mrs. Mercer, it wasna a' the faut o' the Session at the warst, but pairtly his ain. He was ower stiff, and was neither to haud nor bin'." Katie turned back into her kitchen, while poor Menzies walked out into the street, feeling no anger but much pain, and more than ever convinced that "A bairn could haud him noo, and bin' him tae," he had been made a tool of by Smellie, contrary to said Katie. ་י "There's a chasteesement in't," remarked Menzies, becoming slightly annoyed at Katie's cool reception of him. “He should hear the voice in the rod. Afflictions dinna come wi'oot a reason. They spring not from the ground. They're sent for a purpose; and ye should examine and search yer heart, Mrs. Mercer, in a' sincerity and humility, to ken why this affliction has come, and at this time," emphatically added Mr. Menzies. "Nae doot," said Katie, returning to the hem of her apron. The way seemed marvellously opened to Mr. his own common sense and better feeling. Menzies made a very short report of the scene to the draper, saying that he would wash his hands clean of the whole business; to which Smellie only said thoughtfully, as Menzies left his shop, “I wish I could do the same--but I'll try!" Miss Thomasina had, in the meantime, told her brother what had taken place during her interviews with Mr. Smellie. Mr. Porteous: was amazed and confounded by the sudden and unaccountable revolution in his elder. But his own resolution to remain firm was as decided as ever; for there is a glory often experienced by some men when placed in cir cumstances where they stand alone the glory of recognising themselves as being necessarily sufferers for conscience sake of being above all earthly influences of being firm, consistent, fearless, true to their principles, when others prove weak, cowardly, or compromising. Doubts and difficulties, from whatever source they come, are then looked upon as so many temptations; and the repeated resistance of them, as so many evidences of unswerving loyalty to truth. There is no genuine money, but has a false coinage very like it in circulation. Members of the Drumsylie Session had genuine money, but also some amalgam that was not the pure gold though it glittered. 23 161 21 322 I 1. "I shall never yield one jot of my principles," Mr. Porteous said to Miss Thomasina, come what may! Yiold? Never! The man must and shall acknowledge his sin before the Kirk Session, should they meet, duly constituted, round his bed, before I can be reconciled to him! (And yet all this vehemence was in no small degree occasioned by the intrusion of better thoughts, which because they rebuked him were so unpleasant. His irritation measured on the whole very fairly his disbelief in the thorough soundness of his own position, and made him more willing than he had any idea of to be reconciled to Adam. oilada concern at the very time when his anxiety for a patient made him sleepless, and compelled him often, when in bed, to read medical journals with the aid of a long yellow candle, instead of spending in sleep such portions of his night-life as the sick permitted him to enjoy. He had watched Adam's whole conduct as an elder had heard much about his labours from the village patients and, as the result of his observations, had made up his mind that he was a man of a rare and right stamp. When the "disturbance," as it was called, about the Starling agitated the community, few ever heard the Doctor express his opinion on the great question; but many listened to his loud laugh wondering as to its meaning-when the case was mentioned, and when he only stroked his chin, as if to calm his merriment. Some friends who were more in his confidence heard him utter such phrases, in alluding to the matter, as only indigestion," "ecclesiastical hysteria," referring to forms of evil that are rarely dealt with in church courts. His attendance on the Sergeant was, therefore, à duty which was pleasing to him. He was not very hopeful of success, however, from the time when the fever developed into typhoid of a malignant and extremely infectious type. The first thing which the Doctor advised as necessary for the Sergeant's recovery, was the procuring of a sick nurse. Poor Katie protested against the proposal. What could any one do that she was not fit for? What cared she for sleep? She never at any time slept soundly so she alleged and could do with very little sleep; was easily wakened up the scratch of a mouse would do it; and Adam would do her bidding, for he was always so good and kind: a stranger, moreover, would but irritate him, and We need not report the conversation which immediately after this took place in the Manse between Smellie and Mr. Porteous. The draper was calm, smiling, and circumspect. He would follow Mr. Porteous into the darkest recesses of his den, in order to draw him out into his own light. He repeated all he had said to Miss Thomasina as to the necessity and advantage of leniency, forgiveness, and mercy; but apparently in vain." put her about." And who would assist? Who The minister was not verily "given to change." The case, he said, had been finally settled by the Session, and must go to the Presbytery, which alone could determine its final issue. But he was willing to reconsider the question as put by Mr. Smellic, and to meet his wishes if possible-though he did not see how. And so Smellie returned to his room and went to bed, wishing he had left the Sergeant and his bird to their own devices; and Mr. Porteous retired to rest with very much the same feelings. CHAPTER XIV. THE SERGEANT'S SICKNESS AND HIS DR. SCOTT, as the reader knows, visited Adam, and felt a great interest in his patient. The Doctor was a man of few words, very shy, and, as has been indicated, even abrupt and gruff, his only af fectation being his desire to appear devoid of any feeling which might, as it were, interfere with severe medical treatment or a surgical operation. He liked to be thought stern and decided. The fact was that his intense sympathy pained him, and he tried to steel himself against it. When he scolded his patients it was because they made him suffer so much, and because, moreover, he was angry with himself for being angry with them. He, therefore, affected un would risk their life? Had they not their own family to attend? Would they bring the fever înto their own house? &c. &c “Na, na;", she concluded, "lee Adam to me, and God will provide !?? 4 Soc she argued, as taught by observation and experience; for most people in our country villages now as then-are apt to be seized with panic in the presence of any disease pronounced to be dangerous and contagious. To procure, therefore, a nurse, for the sick, except among near relations, is extremely difficult; unless it be some worthless creature who will drink the wine poured out for the patient, or consume the delicacies left for his nourishment. We have known, when cholera broke out in a country town in Scotland, a stranger nurse refused even lodgings in any house within it, lest she should spread the disease! It was a chill and gusty evening, and Katie sat beside the fire in the Sergeant's room, her mind full of "hows" and "whens," and tossed to and fro by anxiety about her Adam, and questionings as to what she should or could do for his comfort. The rising wind shook the bushes and tree-tops in the little garden. The dust in clouds hurried along the street of the village. The sky was dark with gathering signs of rain. There was a depressing sadness in the world without, and little cheer in the room within. The Sergeant lay in a sort of uneasy restless dóse, some. times tossing his hands, starting up and asking where he was, and then falling back again on his pillow with a heavy sigh. Although his wife was not seriously alarmed she was nevertheless very miserable at heart, and felt nnutterably lonely. But for her quiet faith in God, and the demand made upon her for active exertion, she would have yielded to passionate grief, or fallen into sullen despair. "Thank ye!" said Jock, and disappeared.metar . But to return to his interview with Mrs. Mercer.!! I'm telt, Mrs. Mercer," he said, "that the Ser geant needs some nurse that is, as I understan", some ane that wad watch him day and nicht, and keep their een open like a whitrat; somebody that wadna heed haein' muckle tae, do, and that could haud a guid, but friendly grip of Mr. Mercer gif his nerves rise. An' I had been thinkin' ye'll fin't a bother tae get sić a bodie in Drumsylie-unless, maybe, and that wad wark for a hantle o siller; some decent woman like Luckie Craigie, wha micht Her thoughts were suddenly disturbed by little Mary telling her that some one was at the street door. Bidding Mary take her place, she hastened to the kitchen and opened the door. Jock Hall entered, in his usual unceremonious way. an ein moet igie "Yenéedna speak, Mistress Mercer," he said as he sat down on a chair near the door; "I ken a' aboot it!" r:,,」 wÎou!r Katie was as much startled as she was the first time he entered her house. His appearance as to dress and respectability was, however, unquestion, ably improved. { "Dinna bother me the noo, Jock, wilony nonsense," said Katie, "I'm no fit for't. If ye need ony thing yersel', tell me what it is, and, if possible, I'll yet; for I maun gang back tae the room?i Ay," said Jock," that's jist it. I want some thing frae ye, and I houp I'll get it. I want an extraordinar favour o ye; for, as I was sayin', yo'll fin't ill tae get ony ane to watch Mr. Mercer. But if I get ane that doesna care for his life-that respecs and loes Adam-that wadna take a bawbee o' siller"}} “I'll pay them decently," interrupted Katie.át "And that," continued Jock, as if not interrupted, "has strength tao watch wi' leevin' man or woman, "Jock Hall, as I declare!" exclaimed Katie in a whisper. "The same, at yer service; and yet no jist the what wad ye say?'d li same," replied Jock in as low a voice. "Ye may say sae," said Katie. "What's come ower ye?: Whaur hae ye been? Whaur got ye thae class? Ye're like a gentleman, Jock !" // "If there's sic a bodie in the toon as that," said Katie, “I wad be blythe tae try them; no tae fix them, maybe, but to try, as the Doctor insists on't." Weel," said Jock, "the favour I hae to ax, "I houp sae," replied Hall; "I oucht to be sae; altho' it's ower muckle, is to let me try my han' I gat a' this frae Adam."w let me speak, and dinna lauch at me! I'm no feered "Claes or no claes," said Jock, "it's him them frae." MA7 “The guidman ?" inquired Katie; "that's impos- for death, as I hae been mony a time feered for life. sible! He never had claes like thae!" I hae had by ordinar experience watchin', ye ken, got as a poacher, fisher, and a' that kin' o' thing, sin' I was a bairn; sae I can sleep wi' my een open; and I'm strong, for I hae thrashed keepers, and tailors, and a' sorts o' folk; fac, I was tempted to gie a blue ee tae Smellie! But let sleepin' dogs lie.". “I dinna understan' hoo that could be," said Katie. "Nor me," said Jock; "but sde it is, and never heed the noo hoo it is. I'm come, as usual, on business." "Say awa," said Katie," but speak laigh. It's nae shoon ye're needin', I houp? For→→→→→→ Katie was taken so much aback by this speech as to let Jock go on without interruption; but she at Jock waved his hand as if to silence her, and pro- last exclaimed “Ye're a kind cratur, Jock, and I'm seeded muckle obleeged to you; but I really canna think "I'm telt my frien' I mean the Sergeant is o't. It 'ill no work; it wad pit ye aboot, an' mak' a awfa' ill wi' a fivver that's deedly smittal." cleish-me-claver in the toon; an'-an' We may here explain that Jock had previously called upon Dr. Scott, and thrusting his head into the surgery his body and its new dress being concealed by the half-opened door--had asked— ' " "I care as little for the toon," said Jock, "as the toon cares for me! Ye'll no be bothered wi' me, mind, gif ye let me help ye. I hae got clean pease strae for a bed frae Geordie Miller the carrier, and a "Is't true that Sergeant Mercer is awfu' ill wi' sackfu' for a bowster; and I ken ye hae a sort o' a smittal fivver?"... 7 laft, and I'll pit up there; and it's no aften I hae sic a bed; and cauld parritch or cauld praties wull dae for my meat, an' I need nae mair; an' I hae braw thick stockin's-I can pit on twa pair if necessar', tae walk as quiet as a cat stealin' cream; sae gif ye'll let me, I'll do my best endeavour to help ye.". "Oh, Jock, man!" said Mrs. Mercer, "ye're unco guid. I'll think o't-I'll think o't, and speer at the Doctor I wull, indeed; and if sae be he needs→→→ Whisht! What's that?" ejaculated Katie, starting from her chair, as little Mary entered the kitchen hurriedly, saying— THE STARLING. "Come fast, mither!" ་་་་་ ° This was the climax of a weary and terribly anxious time for Katie. For some nights she had, as she said, hardly "booed an ee,” and every day her lonely sorrow was becoming truly "too deep for tears." The unexpected visit of even Jock Hall had helped for a moment to cause a reaction and to take her out of herself; and now that she perceived beyond doubt, what she was slow hitherto to believe, that her husband "wasna himsel'"-nay, that even she was strange to him, and was addressed by him in accents and with expressions betokening irritation towards her, and with words which were, for the first time, wanting in love, she became bewildered, and felt as if God had indeed sent her a terrible chastisement. It was fortunate, indeed, that Hall had called for neither her arguments nor her strength could avail on the present occasion. She immediately summoned Jock to her assistance. He quickly cast off his boots, and approached the bed softly and gently. With a strong hand he laid the Sergeant back on his pillow, saying, " Ye will gang to the kirk, Sergeant, but I maun tell ye something afore ye gang. Ye'll mind Jock Hall? him that ye gied the boots to? An' ye'll mind Mr. Spence P I hae got an erran' frae him to you. He said ye wad be glad tae hear't.” (Good Words, May 1, 1867, the Sergeant-contagious fever-we shall try him jist when he needs it, Doctor, and sae div I; but I dinna all the waves and billows pressing on her, while the Adam Mercer lay many weary days with the fever question is, which will last longest, the storm or heavy upon him-like a ship lying to in a hurricane, the ship? Those who have watched beside a lingering case of fever can alone comprehend the effect which intense anxiety, during a few weeks only, caused by the hourly conflict of "hopes and fears that kindle hope, an undistinguishable throng," produces on the whole nervous system. FL die. Their life had hitherto been quiet and evenKatie was brought into deep waters. never taken it home to herself that Adam might She had storm was anticipated as likely to disturb the blessed calm. Now at the prospect of losing him, so like, so very like, was day to day, that no and being left alone in the wide, wide wilderness, without her companion and guide-her earthly all, in spite of the unearthly links of faith and love that bound them-her whole flesh shrunk as from the approach of a terrible enemy. Then it was that old truths lying in her heart were summoned to her aid, to become practical powers in this her hour of need. She recalled all she had learned as to God's ends in sending affliction, with the corresponding duties of a Christian in receiving it. She was made to realise in her experience the gulf which separates the right practice. And thus it was that during a knowing from being and doing the right theory from night of watching she fought a great battle in her soul between her own will and God's will, in her endeavour to say, not with her lips, for that was easy, but from her heart, "Thy will be done!" Often did she exclaim to herself, "Na, God forgie me, but I she wad or dee." At early morn, when she opened the shutters, after a long and weary time of this canna say 't!" and as often resolved, that " say 't The Sergeant stared at Jock with a half-excited, -half-stupid gaze. But the chain of his associations had for a moment been broken, and he was quiet as a child, the bells ringing no more, as he paused to hear the message from Spence the keeper. Jock's first experiment at nursing had proved successful. He was permitted, therefore, for that night only, as Katie said, to occupy the loft, to which he brought his straw bed and straw bolster; and his presence proved, more than once during the night, an invalu-mental struggle, and saw the golden dawn pouring able aid. The Doctor called next morning. Among his other causes for anxiety, one, and not the least, had been the impossibility of finding a respectable nurse. He was therefore not a little astonished to discover Jock Hall, the "ne'er-do-weel," well dressed, and seated beside the Sergeant. He did not at first ask any explanations of so unexpected a phenomenon, but at once admitted that he was better than none. But before leaving, and after questioning Jock, and studying his whole demeanour, and, moreover, after hearing something about him from Mrs. Mercer, he smiled and said, "Keep him by all means-I think I can answer for him;" and mattering to himself "Peculiar temperament-hysterical, but curable with the clouds with splendours of every hue from the sun its effulgence of glory along the eastern sky, steeping of heaven, which as yet itself was unseen; and heard blackbird beginning their morning hymn of praise, a the birds salute his coming-the piping thrush and gush of love and holy confidence filled her heart, as if through earth and sky she heard the echo of her Father's name. Then, losing herself in the universal peace, she sank down on her knees, beside the old arm-chair, and with a flood of tears that eased her bursting heart, she cried, "Father! Thy will be done!" freedom at her heart, such as she had never hitherio In a short time she rose with a feeling of peace and experienced in her best and happiest hours. A great |