what he said was so easy to believe, that I
could not but apologize for my hasty words.

"Don't name it, sir," said the clergyman; "you had a perfect right to
resent my questions, and I enjoy meeting young men of spirit; but not
when it's an evil spirit, such as, I fear, possesses your friend! I do
assure you, sir, that the best thing I have heard of him for years is
the very little that you have told me. As a rule, to hear of him at all
in this part of the world, is to wish that we had not heard. I see him
coming, however, and shall detain you no longer, for I don't deny that
there is no love lost between us."

I looked round, and there was Rattray on the top of the bank, a long
way to the left, coming towards me with a waving hat. An extraordinary
ejaculation brought me to the right-about next instant.

The old clergyman had slipped on a stone in mid-stream, and, as he
dragged a dripping leg up the opposite bank, he had sworn an oath worthy
of the "godless young man" who had put him to flight, and on whose
demerits he had descanted with so much eloquence and indignation.

CHAPTER X. WINE AND WEAKNESS

"Sporting old parson who knows how to swear?" laughed Rattray. "Never saw
him in my life before; wondered who the deuce he was."

"Really?" said I. "He professed to know something of you."

"Against me, you mean? My dear Cole, don't trouble to perjure yourself.
I don't mind, believe me. They're easily shocked, these country clergy,
and no doubt I'm a bugbear to 'em. Yet, I could have sworn I'd never
seen this one before. Let's have another look."

We were walking away together. We turned on the top of the bank. And
there the old clergyman was planted on the moorside, and watching us
intently from under his hollowed hands.

"Well, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Rattray, as the hands fell and their
owner beat a hasty retreat. My companion said no more; indeed, for some
minutes we pursued our way in silence. And I thought that it was with an
effort that he broke into sudden inquiries concerning my journey and my
comfort at the cottage.

This gave me an opportunity of thanking him for his little attentions.
"It was awfully good of you," said I, taking his arm as though I had
known him all my life; nor do I think there was another living man with
whom I would have linked arms at that time.

"Good?" cried he. "Nonsense, my dear sir! I'm only afraid you find
it devilish rough. But, at all events, you're coming to di