322 The Little Minister

“And what for no?” cried the precentor.
“Rob Dow, is it because you’ve found out about
this woman?”

“You're a pack o’ liars,” roared Rob, desper-
ately, “and if you say again that ony wandering
hussy has haud o’ the minister, I'll let you see
whether I can loup at throats.”

“You'll swear by the Book,” asked Whamond,
relentlessly, “that you’ve seen neither o’ them
this nicht, nor them thegither at any time?”

“T so swear by the Book,” answered poor,
loyal Rob. “But what makes you look
for Mr. Dishart here?” he demanded, with
an uneasy look at the light in the mud
house.

“Go hame,” replied the precentor, “and de-
liver up the machine you stole, and leave this
session to do its duty. John, we maun fathom
the meaning o’ that licht.”

Dow started, and was probably at that moment
within an ace of felling Whamond.
~ © Il come wi’ you,” he said, hunting in his
mind for a better way of helping Gavin.

They were at Nanny’s garden, but in the
darkness Whamond could not find the gate.
Rob climbed the paling, and was at once lost
sight of. Then they saw his head obscure
the window. They did not, however, hear the
groan that startled Babbie.

“There’s nobody there,” he said, coming back,
“but Nanny and Sanders. You'll mind Sanders
was to be freed the day.”

“Tl go in and see Sanders,” said Hendry, but
the precentor pulled him back, saying, “ You'll