the Baron-bailie or my Lord Provost,
and saith he: 'Ye shall not henceforth wear that glove of thine, but one
of my colour and of the fashion official!' Then says I to the
Baron-bailie, 'To the Ill Thief wi' you and your pattern gauntlet!' And
I take him naturally across the cheek with it, and out with my
whinger----"

"Even so," said my cousin, who saw not whither I was leading him, "let
no man drive you as to the fashion of your gloves. Out with your
whinger, and see what might be the colour of his blood!"

"And what else are the Covenant men doing?" cried I, quick to take
advantage. "We were none so fond o' the Kirk that I ken of--we that are
of the lairds o' Galloway, when we could please ourselves when and where
we would go. Was there one of us, say maybe your father and mine, that
had not been sessioned time and again? Many an ill word did we speak o'
the Kirk, and many a glint did we cast at the sandglass in the pulpit as
the precentor gied her another turn. But after a' the Kirk was oor ain
mither, and what for should the King misca' or upturn her? Gin she
whummelt us, and peyed us soondly till we clawed where we werena yeuky,
wha's business was that but oor ain? But comes King Charlie, and says
he, 'Pit awa' your old mither, that's overly sore on you, an' tak' this
braw easy step-minnie, that will never steer ye a hair or gar ye claw
your hinderlands!' What wad ye say, Wat? What say ye, Wat? Wad ye gie
your mither up for the King's word?"

"No," said Wat, sullenly, for now he saw where he was being taken, and
liked it little, "I wadna."

I thought I had him, and so, logically, I had. But he was nothing but a
dour, donnert soldier, and valued good logic not a docken.

"Hear me," he said, after a moment's silence; "this is my way of it. I
am no preacher, and but poor at the practice. But I learned, no matter
where, to be true to the King--and, mind you, even now I stand by
Charles Stuart, though at the horn I be. Even now I have no quarrel with
him, though for the dirty sake of the Duke of Wellwood, he has one with
me."

"That's as may be," I returned; "but mind where you are going. Ye will
be eating the bread of them that think differently, and surely ye'll hae
the sense and the mense to keep a calm sough, an' your tongue far ben
within your teeth."

We were passing the ford of the Black Water as I was speaking, and soon
we came to the steading of the Little Duchrae in the light of the
morning. It was a