428 The Little Minister

cles, while I went round mine. After a time, too,
the dog proved useful, for on discovering that it
was going homeward it took the lead, and several
times drew him to the right road to the Spittal by
refusing to accompany him on the wrong road.
Yet in two hours he had walked perhaps nine
miles without being four miles nearer the Spittal.
In that flood the glen milestones were three miles
apart.

For some time he had been following the dog
doubtfully, for it seemed to be going too near the
river. When they struck a cart-track, however,
he concluded rightly that they were nearing a
bridge. His faith in his guide was again tested
before they had been many minutes on this sloppy
road. The dog stopped, whined, looked irreso-
lute, and then ran to the right, disappearing into
the mist in an instant. He shouted to it to come
back, and was surprised to hear a whistle in reply.
This was sufficient to make him dash after the
dog, and in less than a minute he stopped
abruptly by the side of a shepherd.

“* Have you brocht it?”’ the man cried, almost
into Gavin’s ear; yet the roar of the water was so
tremendous that the words came faintly, as if from
a distance. ‘“ Wae is me; is it only you, Mr.
Dishart?”

“Ts it only you!” No one in the glen would
have addressed a minister thus except in a matter
of life or death, and Gavin knew it.

“‘ He'll be ower late,” the shepherd exclaimed,
rubbing his hands together in distress. ‘I’m
speaking o’. Whinbusses’ grieve. He has run
for ropes, but he’ll be ower late.”