ou should mak
it, that would be an offence to your congregation; if ye should save
it, they would say ye ought to hae gien it to the poor. There will be
nae Dominie Crawford o' my kin, Colin. Will naething but looking down
on the warld from a pulpit sarve you?"

"I like art, father. I can paint a little, and I love music."

"Art! Painting! Music! Is the lad gane daft? God has gien to some men
wisdom and understanding, to ithers the art o' playing on the fiddle
and painting pictures. There shall be no painting, fiddling Crawford
among my kin, Colin."

The young fellow bit his lip, and his eyes flashed dangerously beneath
their dropped lids. But he said calmly enough,

"What is your own idea, father? I am twenty-two, I ought to be doing a
man's work of some kind."

"Just sae. That is warld-like talk. Now I'll speak wi' you anent a
grand plan I hae had for a long time." With these words he rose, and
took from his secretary a piece of parchment containing the plan of
the estate. "Sit down, son Colin, and I'll show you your inheritance."
Then he went carefully over every acre of moor and wood, of moss and
water, growing enthusiastic as he pointed out how many sheep could be
grazed on the hills, what shooting and fishing privileges were worth,
etc. "And the best is to come, my lad. There is coal on the estate,
and I am going to open it up, for I hae the ready siller to do it."

Colin sat silent; his cold, dissenting air irritated the excited laird
very much.

"What hae ye got to say to a' this, Colin?" he asked proudly, "for
you'll hae the management o' everything with me. Why, my dear son, if
a' goes weel--and it's sure to--we'll be rich enough in a few years to
put in our claim for the old Earldom o' Crawford, and you may tak your
seat in the House o' Peers yet. The old chevalier promised us a
Dukedom," he said sadly, "but I'm feared that will be aboon our
thumb--"

"Father, what are you going to do with the clansmen? Do you think
Highlandmen who have lived on the mountains are going to dig coal? Do
you imagine that these men, who, until a generation or two ago, never
handled anything but a claymore, and who even now scorn to do aught
but stalk deer or spear salmon, will take a shovel and a pickaxe and
labor as coal-miners? There is not a Crawford among them who would do
it. I would despise him if he did."

"There is a glimmer o' good sense in what you say, Colin. I dinna
intend any Crawford to work in my coal m