Hartrigge nodded, and a gleam shot through his fearless eye, telling that it had roused and stirred his innermost being. "Have you seen our father to-day?" "Yes, and I was amazed at his serenity. Jane feels it worse than him, and Betty McBean is the worst of them all. When I was in she was audibly wishing she had her hands about Middleton’s neck, and her mouth at Sharp’s ear. I’ll warrant she wouldna spare them," said Andrew Gray, with a grim smile. "Eh, man, David, they’s awful times for folk tae live in," said Aunt Susan, in a kind of wail. "I declare it makes a body lie doon i’ their bed at nicht wi’ fear an’ tremblin’, no kenin’ what strange and waefu’ thing may happen afore the daw’in’." "You speak truly, Susan, and I fear the worse is not yet," said the minister, gravely. "My father, then, has quite made up his mind concerning his course of action?" he added to his brother. "Of course; there is but one way open to every single-hearted servant of God," said Andrew Gray with heaving chest and flashing eye. "I would the day were here, and it is surely coming, when the people of Scotland, roused to a sense of their own wrongs will take arms in defence of their liberties." "Wheesht, Andrew! Wheesht, wheesht!" said his wife, looking round in terror, as if expecting her husband would be laid hands on then and there for such rebellious words. "Dinna speak that way. We maun bear afore we fecht. Peace is better than war." "Spoken like a woman, Susan," said her husband, with his grim smile. "But there is peace which means degradation and dishonour, as well as war, which is honourable and richt. Must you go already, David? I wouldna mind yoking the beast and following ye to the manse." "Let me go too, father," called out Gavin’s shrill eager tones from the doorstep, where he had been a breathless listener to what was passing. The lad, young as he was, had as deep and heartfelt an interest in public affairs as his elders, and he was as intelligent in his interest as any of them all. His father did not say him nay, but directly the minister rode away, sent him to get out their own horse and cart. Betty McBean answered the minister’s knock at the manse door, and at sight of the younger son of the manse, threw up her hands and burst into a loud wail. "Eh, Maister Dauvit, man, come awa’! It’s a waefu’ hoose ye’re comin’ intil the nicht; it’ll be the last time ye’ll cross in safety the doorstane o’ the manse," she exclaimed, incoherently. "Eh, sir, they bluidy and perjured monsters wha hae sold themsels tae Sautan for the persecution o’ the servants o’ the Maist High. Tae think they wad tak’ the very rooftree frae above focks’ heids, the very flure frae under their feet, and cast them oot intae the howlin’ wilderness, because they’ll no----"