s of praise for which he would have given his immortal soul,
meted out lavishly to that owl-like being. It was a dismal business,
and ruefully, but half-humorously, he caught at the paradox of his fate.

Through the swiftly failing darkness the inn of Etterick rose before
him, a place a little apart from the village street. A noise of talk
floated from the kitchen and made him halt at the door and dismount.
The place would be full of folk discussing the election, and he would go
in among them and learn the worst opinion which men might have of him.
After all, they were his own people, who had known him in his power as
they now saw him in his weakness. If he had failed he was not wholly
foolish; they knew his few redeeming virtues, and they would be
generous.

The talk stopped short as he entered, and he saw through the tobacco
reek half a dozen lengthy faces wearing the air of solemnity which the
hillman adopts in his pleasures. They were all his own herds and
keepers, save two whom he knew for foresters from Glenavelin. He was
recognized at once, and with a general nervous shuffling they began to
make room for the laird at the table. He cried a hasty greeting to all,
and sat down between a black-bearded giant, whose clothes smelt of
sheep, and a red-haired man from one of the remoter glens. The notion
of the thing pleased him, and he ordered drinks for each with a lavish
carelessness. He asked for a match for his pipe, and the man who gave
it wore a decent melancholy on his face and shook his head with unction.

"This is a bad job, Lewie," he said, using the privileged name of the
ancient servant. "Whae would have ettled sic a calaamity to happen in
your ain countryside? We a' thocht it would be a grand pioy for ye, for
ye would settle down here and hae nae mair foreign stravaigins. And
then this tailor body steps in and spoils a'. It's maist vexaatious."

"It was a good fight, and he beat me fairly; but we'll drop the matter.
I'm sick--tired of politics, Adam. If I had been a better man they
might have made a herd of me, and I should have been happy."

"Wheesht, Lewie," said the man, grinning. "A herd's job is no for the
likes o' you. But there's better wark waiting for ye than poalitics.
It's a beggar's trade after a', and far better left to bagman bodies
like yon Stocks. It's a puir thing for sac proper a man as you."

"But what can I do?" cried Lewis in despair. "I have no profession. I
am useless."

"Useles