“You fight Antichrist with his own weapons, then,” said Colin, “and do evil that good may come,”--and Lauderdale added his comment almost in the same breath-- “That’s an awfu’ fruitful principle if you once adopt it,” he said; “there’s no telling where it may end. I would sooner leave the poor lad in God’s hands, as no doubt he is, than smuggle in light to him after that fashion. I’m no fond of maps that are no maps,” said the dissatisfied critic; by which time Colin had reloaded his guns, and was ready to fire. “It is only a few words,” said Colin; “a man might keep such an utterance in his memory without any necessity for double dealing. Do you think, for all the good it will do your patient to look at that text, it is worth your while to risk him and yourself?” “For myself I am perfectly indifferent,” said Meredith, glad of an opportunity to defend himself. “I hope I could take imprisonment joyfully for the saving of a soul.” “Imprisonment would be death to you,” said Colin, with a touch of compunction, “and would make an end of all further possibilities of use. To be thrown into a stony Italian prison at this season--” “Hush,” said Meredith; “for my Master’s sake could I not bear more than that? If not, I am not worthy to call myself a Christian. I am ready to be offered,” said the young enthusiast. “It would be an end beyond my hopes to die like my Lord for the salvation of my brother. Such a prophecy is no terror to me.” “If you two would but hold your tongues for five minutes at a time,” said Lauderdale, with vexation, “it would be a comfort. No doubt you’re both ready enough to fling away your lives for any nonsensical idea that comes into your heads. But suppose we take the case of the other innocent callant, the Italian lad that a’ this martyrdom’s to be for. No to say that it’s awfu’ cheating--which my soul loathes,” said the emphatic Scotchman--“figure to yourselves a wheen senseless women maybe, or a wheen frightened priests, getting on the scent o’ this heresy of yours. I’m real reluctant to think that he would not get the same words, poor callant, in his ain books without being torn to pieces for the sake of a map that was not a map. It’s getting a wee chilly,” said the philosopher, “and there’s a fire to be had in the house if nothing else. Come in, callant, and no expose yourself; and you would put your grand map in the fire if you were to be guided by me.” “With these words of consolation on it!” said Meredith, “Never, if it should cost me my life.” “Nae fear of its costing you your life; but I wouldna use even the weapons of God after the devil’s manner of fighting,” said Lauderdale, with a little impatience. “Allowing you had a’ the charge of saving souls, as you call it, and the Almighty Himself took no trouble on the subject, I’m no for using the sword o’ the Spirit to give stabs in the dark.” Just then, fortunately, there came a seasonable diversion, which stayed the answer on Meredith’s lips.