, he was waylaid by that unhappy man, and in a rather
unexpected manner called to account for his sermon, and for the misery
it had caused. They went home to the manse together, and spent a good
part of the night in the minister's study, and more nights than one
before Peter "came to himself" and "went to his Father," and so was made
ready to begin a new life indeed.

It _was_ a new life. There was no gainsaying that. He had been a
reckless character, a drunkard, a swearer, an ill husband and a worse
father, in the sight of all men. But from the day when at last he came
out of the minister's study with a face which shone, though there were
tears upon it, all that was over.

For days and months his wife watched him and wondered, and rejoiced with
trembling, never sure how it all might end. His children, with
something of the dogged indifference with which in former days they had
come to bear the effects of his drunken anger, took the good of his
changed ways "while they lasted," they said to one another, hardly
daring to hope that they would last "for ay."

But though he had had a stumble or two since then he had, on the whole,
during thirteen years walked warily and wisely, even in the unwilling
judgment of those who had watched for his halting. Even they were
compelled to allow that "to be converted" meant something to the
purpose, at least in the case of Peter Gilchrist.

There were many besides him whose lives illustrated the power of the
Gospel as held forth by Mr Hume, and there were but a few in the place
who went beyond a grumble of dissent or disapproval of him and his
doings now. Even the most inveterate of the grumblers, or the most
captious of the fault-finders, could not withstand the persistent
friendliness which never resented an injury nor forgot a favour, and
which was as ready, it seemed, with a good turn for those who wished him
ill as for those who wished him well.

According to some folk, the minister ought to have been "sour, and dour,
and ill-conditioned," considering the belief he held and the doctrines
he preached. These were the folk who never went to hear him. But even
they acknowledged that he was friendly and kindly, cheerful and
forbearing, even when vexation or indignation on his part might have
been excusable. And they also acknowledged that "he wasna a man who
keepit a calm sough, and slippet oot o' things just to save himself
trouble." He could be angry--and show it, too-