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And at this, with more agility than could have been expected, he got clear of the room and slammed the door behind him in the face of the pursuing curate. The next Lord's day the curate was ill, and the kirk closed, but for all his ill words, Mr. M'Brair abode unmolested in the house of Montroymont.
But me! na, deil haet o' me!" "She is penitent at least," said M'Brair. "Do you mean to actually up and tell me to my face that she accused me?" cried the curate. "I canna just say that," replied M'Brair. "But I rebuked her in the name of God, and she repented before me on her bended knees." "Weel, I daursay she's been ower far wi' the dragoons," said Haddo. "I never denied that.
Some papers could not be found; and he wrote to Jack M'Brair suggesting they might be among those sealed up by a Mr. Mackellar.
"And I repeat my question," said M'Brair: "Are you fit fit for this great charge? fit to carry and save souls?" "Fit? Blethers! As fit 's yoursel'," cried Haddo. "Are you so great a self-deceiver?" said M'Brair. "Wretched man, trampler upon God's covenants, crucifier of your Lord afresh. I will ding you to the earth with one word: How about the young woman, Janet M'Clour?"
Some papers could not be found; and he wrote to Jack M'Brair suggesting they might be among those sealed up by a Mr. Mackellar. In the smoking-room, to which my host now led me, was a packet, fastened with many seals and enclosed in a single sheet of strong paper thus endorsed:
M'Brair had been at the College with Haddo; the Presbytery had licensed both on the same day; and at this tale, told with so much innocency by the boy, the heart of the tutor was commoved. 'Woe upon him! Woe upon that man! he cried. 'O the unfaithful shepherd! O the hireling and apostate minister! Make my matters hot for me? quo' she! the shameless limmer!
M'Brair sat by the cheek of the peat-fire and shivered, for he had a quartan ague and this was his day. The great night-cap and plaid, the dark unshaven cheeks of the man, and the white, thin hands that held the plaid about his chittering body, made a sorrowful picture. But Francie knew and loved him; came straight in, nestled close to the refugee, and told his story.
'And I repeat my question, said M'Brair: 'Are you fit fit for this great charge? fit to carry and save souls? 'Fit? Blethers! As fit's yoursel', cried Haddo. 'Are you so great a self-deceiver? said M'Brair. 'Wretched man, trampler upon God's covenants, crucifier of your Lord afresh. I will ding you to the earth with one word: How about the young woman, Janet M'Clour?
'Weel, what about her? what do I ken? cries Haddo. 'M'Brair, ye daft auld wife, I tell ye as true's truth, I never meddled her. It was just daffing, I tell ye: daffing, and nae mair: a piece of fun, like! I'm no denying but what I'm fond of fun, sma' blame to me! But for onything sarious hout, man, it might come to a deposeetion! I'll sweir it to ye. Where's a Bible, till you hear me sweir?
'Hout, ye silly bairn! said the father, 'dinna do it nae mair, and come in by to your supper. And he took the boy, and drew him close to him a moment, as they went through the door, with something very fond and secret, like a caress between a pair of lovers. The next day M'Brair was abroad in the afternoon, and had a long advising with Janet on the braes where she herded cattle.
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