Maister
Sclater?"

"Weel eneuch," she answered. "I hae seen him tee; but he's a gran'
gentleman grown, an' I wadna like to be affrontit layin' claim
till's acquaintance,--walcome as he ance was to my hoose!"

She had more reason for the doubt and hesitation she thus expressed
than Donal knew. But his answer was none the less the true one as
regarded his friend.

"Ye little ken Gibbie," he said "gien ye think that gait o' 'im!
Gang ye to the minister's door and speir for 'im! He'll be doon
the stair like a shot.--But 'deed maybe he's come back, an' 's i' my
chaumer the noo! Ye'll come up the stair an' see?"

"Na, I wunna dee that," said Mistress Croale, who did not wish to
face Mistress Murkison, well known to her in the days of her
comparative prosperity.

She pointed out the door to him, but herself stood on the other side
of the way till she saw it opened by her old friend in her
night-cap, and heard her make jubilee over his return.

Gibbie had come home and gone out again to look for him, she said.

"Weel," remarked Donal, "there wad be sma' guid in my gaein' to luik
for him. It wad be but the sheep gaein' to luik for the shepherd."

"Ye're richt there," said his landlady. "A tint bairn sud aye sit
doon an' sit still."

"Weel, ye gang till yer bed, mem," returned Donal. "Lat me see hoo
yer door works, an' I'll lat him in whan he comes."

Gibbie came within an hour, and all was well. They made their
communication, of which Donal's was far the more interesting, had
their laugh over the affair, and went to bed.

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE MINISTER'S DEFEAT.

The minister's wrath, when he found he had been followed home by
Gibbie who yet would not enter the house, instantly rose in
redoubled strength. He was ashamed to report the affair to Mrs.
Sclater just as it had passed. He was but a married old bachelor,
and fancied he must keep up his dignity in the eyes of his wife, not
having yet learned that, if a man be true, his friends and lovers
will see to his dignity. So his anger went on smouldering all night
long, and all through his sleep, without a touch of cool
assuagement, and in the morning he rose with his temper very
feverish. During breakfast he was gloomy, but would confess to no
inward annoyance. What added to his unrest was, that, although he
felt insulted, he did not know what precisely the nature of the
insult was. Even in his wrath he could scarcely set down Gibbie's
followi