“ ‘See,’ said I, ‘I will prove it to you;’ and I rose from the table and went to one of the bookcases. There were all manner of books, Latin and Greek, poets and philosophers, but in the main, divinity. For there I saw Richard Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted, and Thomas Boston of Ettrick’s Fourfold State, not to speak of the Sermons of half a hundred auld ministers, and the Hind Let Loose, and many books of the covenanting folk.
“ ‘Faith,’ I says, ‘you’ve a fine collection, Mr. What’s-your-name,’ for the wine had made me free in my talk. ‘There is many a minister and professor in the Kirk, I’ll warrant, who has a less godly library. I begin to suspect you of piety, sir.’
“ ‘Does it not behove us,’ he answered in an unctuous voice, ‘to mind the words of Holy Writ that evil communications corrupt good manners, and have an eye to our company? These are all the company I have, except when some stranger such as you honours me with a visit.’
“I had meantime been opening a book of plays, I think by the famous William Shakespeare, and I here broke into a loud laugh. ‘Ha, ha, Mr. Stewart,’ I says, ‘here’s a sentence I’ve lighted on which is hard on you. Listen!’ The Devil can quote Scripture to advantage.’
“The other laughed long. ‘He who wrote that was a shrewd man,’ he said, ‘but I’ll warrant if you’ll open another volume, you’ll find some quip on yourself.’
“I did as I was bidden, and picked up a white-backed book, and opening it at random, read: ‘There be many who spend their days in evil and wine-bibbing, in lusting and cheating, who think to mend while yet there is time; but the opportunity is to them forever awanting, and they go down open-mouthed to the great fire.’
“ ‘Psa,’ I cried, ‘some wretched preaching book, I will have none of them. Good wine will be better than bad theology.’ So I sat down once more at the table.
“ ‘You’re a clever man, Mr. Duncan,’ he says, ‘and a well-read one. I commend your spirit in breaking away from the bands of the kirk and the college, though your father was so thrawn against you.’
“ ‘Enough of that,’ I said, ‘though I don’t know who telled you.’ I was angry to hear my father spoken of, as though the grieving him was a thing to be proud of.
“ ‘Oh, as you please,’ he says; ‘I was just going to say that I commended your spirit in sticking the knife into the man in the Pleasaunce, the time you had to hide for a month about the backs o’ Leith.’
“ ‘How do you ken that?’ I asked hotly. ‘You’ve heard more about me than ought to be repeated, let me tell you.’
“ ‘Don’t be angry,’ he said sweetly; ‘I like you well for these things, and you mind the lassie in Athole that was so fond of you. You treated her well, did you not?’
“I made no answer, being too much surprised at his knowledge of things which I thought none knew but myself.
“ ‘Oh, yes, Mr. Duncan. I could tell you what you were doing today, how you cheated Jock Gallowa out of six pounds, and sold a horse to the farmer of Hay path that was scarce fit to carry him home. And I know what you are meaning to do the morn at Glesca, and I wish you well of it.’
“ ‘I think you must be the Devil,’ I said blankly.
“ ‘The same, at your service,’ said he, still smiling.
“I looked at him in terror, and even as I looked I kenned by something in his eyes and the twitch of his lips that he was speaking the truth.
“ ‘And what place is this, you …’ I stammered.
“ ‘Call me Mr. S.,’ he says gently, ‘and enjoy your stay while you are here and don’t concern yourself about the lawing.’
“ ‘The lawing!’ I cried in astonishment, ‘and is this a house of public entertainment?’
“ ‘To be sure, else how is a poor man to live?’
“ ‘Name it,’ said I, ‘and I will pay and be gone.’
“ ‘Well,’ said he,’ I make it a habit to give a man his choice. In your case it will be your wealth or your chances hereafter, in plain English your flock or your—’
“ ‘My immortal soul,’ I gasped.
“ ‘Your soul,’ said Mr. S., bowing, ‘though I think you call it by too flattering an adjective.’
“ ‘You damned thief,’ I roared, ‘you would entice a man into your accursed house and then strip him bare!’
“ ‘Hold hard,’ said he, ‘don’t let us spoil our good fellowship by incivilities. And, mind you, I took you to witness to begin with that you sat down of your own accord.’
“ ‘So you did,’ said I, and could say no more.
“ ‘Come, come,’ he says, ‘don’t take it so bad. You may keep all your gear and yet part from here in safety. You’ve but to sign your name, which is no hard task to a college-bred man, and go on living as you live just now to the end. And let me tell you, Mr. Duncan Stewart, that you should take it as a great obligement that I am willing to take your bit soul instead of fifty sheep. There’s no many would value it so high.’
“ ‘Maybe no, maybe no,’ I said sadly, ‘but it’s
