own from the saddle, and Haddo getting
on his toes (for he was a little, ruddy, bald-pated man, more like a
dwarf), they greeted kindly, and came to a halt within two fathoms of
the child.

"Montroymont," the curate said, "the deil's in 't but I'll have to
denunciate your leddy again."

"Deil's in 't indeed!" says the laird.

"Man! can ye no induce her to come to the kirk?" pursues Haddo; "or to a
communion at the least of it? For the conventicles, let be! and the same
for yon solemn fule, M'Brair: I can blink at them. But she's got to come
to the kirk, Montroymont."

"Dinna speak of it," says the laird. "I can do nothing with her."

"Couldn't ye try the stick to her? it works wonders whiles," suggested
Haddo. "No? I'm wae to hear it. And I suppose ye ken where you're
going?"

"Fine!" said Montroymont. "Fine do I ken where: bankrup'cy and the Bass
Rock!"

"Praise to my bones that I never married!" cried the curate. "Well, it's
a grievous thing to me to see an auld house dung down that was here
before Flodden Field. But naebody can say it was with my wish."

"No more they can, Haddo!" says the laird. "A good friend ye've been to
me, first and last. I can give you that character with a clear
conscience."

Whereupon they separated, and Montroymont rode briskly down into the
Dule Valley. But of the curate Francis was not to be quit so easily. He
went on with his little, brisk steps to the corner of a dyke, and
stopped and whistled and waved upon a lassie that was herding cattle
there. This Janet M'Clour was a big lass, being taller than the curate;
and what made her look the more so, she was kilted very high. It seemed
for a while she would not come, and Francie heard her calling Haddo a
"daft auld fule," and saw her running and dodging him among the whins
and hags till he was fairly blown. But at the last he gets a bottle from
his plaid-neuk and holds it up to her; whereupon she came at once into a
composition, and the pair sat, drinking of the bottle, and daffing and
laughing together, on a mound of heather. The boy had scarce heard of
these vanities, or he might have been minded of a nymph and satyr, if
anybody could have taken long-leggit Janet for a nymph. But they seemed
to be huge friends, he thought; and was the more surprised, when the
curate had taken his leave, to see the lassie fling stones after him
with screeches of laughter, and Haddo turn about and caper, and shake
his staff at her, and laugh lou