“It pleased the honourable Marquis,” said Dalgetty, modestly, “to grace me with a seat in his own gallery.” The divine bowed low at this intimation, knowing that such an honour was only vouchsafed to persons of very high rank. “It has been my fate, sir,” said the Captain, “in the sort of wandering life which I have led, to have heard different preachers of different religions--as for example, Lutheran, Evangelical, Reformed, Calvinistical, and so forth, but never have I listened to such a homily as yours.” “Call it a lecture, worthy sir,” said the divine, “such is the phrase of our church.” “Lecture or homily,” said Dalgetty, “it was, as the High Germans say, GANZ FORTRE FLICH; and I could not leave this place without testifying unto you what inward emotions I have undergone during your edifying prelection; and how I am touched to the quick, that I should yesterday, during the refection, have seemed to infringe on the respect due to such a person as yourself.” “Alas! my worthy sir,” said the clergyman, “we meet in this world as in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, not knowing against whom we may chance to encounter. In truth, it is no matter of marvel, if we sometimes jostle those, to whom, if known, we would yield all respect. Surely, sir, I would rather have taken you for a profane malignant than for such a devout person as you prove, who reverences the great Master even in the meanest of his servants.” “It is always my custom to do so, learned sir,” answered Dalgetty; “for in the service of the immortal Gustavus--but I detain you from your meditations,”--his desire to speak of the King of Sweden being for once overpowered by the necessity of his circumstances. “By no means, my worthy sir,” said the clergyman. “What was, I pray you, the order of that great Prince, whose memory is so dear to every Protestant bosom?” “Sir, the drums beat to prayers morning and evening, as regularly as for parade; and if a soldier passed without saluting the chaplain, he had an hour’s ride on the wooden mare for his pains. Sir, I wish you a very good evening--I am obliged to depart the castle under M’Callum More’s passport.” “Stay one instant, sir,” said the preacher; “is there nothing I can do to testify my respect for the pupil of the great Gustavus, and so admirable a judge of preaching?” “Nothing, sir,” said the Captain, “but to shew me the nearest way to the gate--and if you would have the kindness,” he added, with great effrontery, “to let a servant bring my horse with him, the dark grey gelding--call him Gustavus, and he will prick up his ears--for I know not where the castle-stables are situated, and my guide,” he added, looking at Ranald, “speaks no English.” “I hasten to accommodate you,” said the clergyman; “your way lies through that cloistered passage.” “Now, Heaven’s blessing upon your vanity!” said the Captain to himself. “I was afraid I would have had to march off without Gustavus.”