good-night. Each took himself off slowly, backing out of the group
until he was fairly started.

Sam'l looked about him, and then, seeing that the others had gone,
walked round the townhouse into the darkness of the brae that leads
down and then up to the farm of T'nowhead.

To get into the good graces of Lisbeth Fargus you had to know her ways
and humour them. Sam'l, who was a student of women, knew this, and so,
instead of pushing the door open and walking in, he went through the
rather ridiculous ceremony of knocking. Sanders Elshioner was also
aware of this weakness of Lisbeth's, but, though he often made up his
mind to knock, the absurdity of the thing prevented his doing so when
he reached the door. T'nowhead himself had never got used to his
wife's refined notions, and when any one knocked he always started to
his feet, thinking there must be something wrong.

Lisbeth came to the door, her expansive figure blocking the way in.

"Sam'l," she said.

"Lisbeth," said Sam'l.

He shook hands with the farmer's wife, knowing that she liked it, but
only said, "Ay, Bell," to his sweetheart, "Ay, T'nowhead," to
McQuhatty, and "It's yersel, Sanders," to his rival.

They were all sitting round the fire, T'nowhead, with his feet on the
ribs, wondering why he felt so warm, and Bell darned a stocking, while
Lisbeth kept an eye on a goblet full of potatoes.

"Sit into the fire, Sam'l," said the farmer, not, however, making way
for him.

"Na, na," said Sam'l, "I'm to bide nae time." Then he sat into the
fire. His face was turned away from Bell, and when she spoke he
answered her without looking round. Sam'l felt a little anxious.
Sanders Elshioner, who had one leg shorter than the other, but looked
well when sitting, seemed suspiciously at home. He asked Bell
questions out of his own head, which was beyond Sam'l, and once he said
something to her in such a low voice that the others could not catch
it. T'nowhead asked curiously what it was, and Sanders explained that
he had only said, "Ay, Bell, the morn's the Sabbath." There was
nothing startling in this, but Sam'l did not like it. He began to
wonder if he was too late, and had he seen his opportunity would have
told Bell of a nasty rumour that Sanders intended to go over to the
Free Church if they would make him kirk-officer.

[Illustration: Sabbath at T'Nowhead. From a photograph by G. W.
Wilson.]

Sam'l had the good-will of T'nowhead's wife, who like