The Doctor's determination--after the calamity of the bank failure--to reduce himself to the depths of poverty was wonderful, but Drumtochty was cunning and full of tact. He might surrender his invested means and reserve only one hundred pounds a year out of his living, but when he sent for the Kildrummie auctioneer and instructed him to sell every stick of furniture, except a bare minimum for one sitting-room and a bedroom, Jock accepted the commission at once, and proceeded at eleven miles an hour--having just bought a new horse--to take counsel with Drumsheugh. Next Friday, as a result thereof, he dropped into the factor's office--successor to him over whom the Doctor had triumphed gloriously--and amid an immense variety of rural information, mentioned that he was arranging a sale of household effects at Drumtochty Manse. Jock was never known to be so dilatory with an advertisement before, and ere he got it out Lord Kilspindie had come to terms with the liquidator and settled the Doctor's belongings on him for life. The Doctor's next effort was with his household, and for weeks the minister looked wistfully at John and Rebecca, till at last he called them in and stated the situation. “You have both been... good and faithful servants to me, indeed I may say... friends for many years, and I had hoped you would have remained in the Manse till... so long as I was spared. And I may mention now that I had made some slight provision that would have... made you comfortable after I was gone.” “It wes kind o' ye, sir, an' mindfu'.” Rebecca spoke, not John, and her tone was of one who might have to be firm and must not give herself away by sentiment. “It is no longer possible for me, through... certain events, to live as I have been accustomed to do, and I am afraid that I must... do without your help. A woman coming in to cook and... such like will be all I can afford.” The expression on the housekeeper's face at this point was such that even the Doctor did not dare to look at her again, but turned to John, whose countenance was inscrutable. “Your future, John, has been giving me much anxious thought, and I hope to be able to do something with Lord Kilspindie next week. There are many quiet places on the estate which might suit...” then the Doctor weakened, “although I know well no place will ever be like Drumtochty, and the old Manse will never be the same... without you. But you see how it is... friends.” “Doctor Davidson,” and he knew it was vain to escape her, “wi' yir permission a wud like tae ask ye ane or twa questions, an' ye 'ill forgie the leeberty. Dis ony man in the Pairish o' Drumtochty ken yir wys like John? Wha 'ill tak yir messages, an' prepare the fouk for the veesitation, an' keep the gairden snod, an' see tae a' yir trokes when John's awa? Wull ony man ever cairry the bukes afore ye like John?” “Never,” admitted the Doctor, “never.”