'Na, na, I'm awa,' replied the ancient herd, rising as he spoke; 'it's
gettin' late, an' I dinna want to run the risk o' meetin' wi' "Parcy" on
my way hame.'[1]
'Parcy!' exclaimed the visitor, raising himself in surprise from his
arm-chair. 'Parcy, the ghost o' the murdered mosstrooper, d' ye mean,
that the old wives talked of? D' ye mean to tell me ye still believe in
ghosts up here?'
'Why not?' said the Minister. ''Tis good Christian doctrine to believe
in departed spirits.'
'We don't believe in 'em in the towns,' retorted Elliot scornfully, 'so
why should we in the country?'
'Will ye put your faith, or lack o't, tae the proof?' here inquired the
caustic ancient herd. 'I'se haud ye a wager ye winna walk doon the burn
the morrow nicht at the deid hour, past the stane where "Parcy" was
slain, and up on beyond the kirkyaird, and on tae the manse. Maybe it's
a mile, an' to-morrow's the nicht o' Hallow E'en when the deid walk.
Here's my shilling against whatever ye like to lay doon,' and as the
ancient spoke he drew a long, thin leathern purse from his trouser
pocket, plucked forth a shilling, and set it down with a bang on the
table.
'And there's my sovereign alongside it,' cried the visitor
vaingloriously.
'Aweel,' the ancient continued, 'the Meenister can be the stake-holder,
an' the landlord can set ye awa as the clock strikes twalve the morrow
nicht. If ye win through to the manse your lane ye'll hae won my
shillin'; if no', the Meenister will hae a sovereign i' the ladle next
Sawbath.'
The landlord assented, the others all approved the suggestion, the
Minister placed the stakes carefully into his waistcoat pocket, and the
aged shepherd departed, chuckling to himself over his wager.
The Minister continued to converse about ghosts for a minute or more,
then he too rose, saying that 'the wife' would be getting nervous if she
'wanted' him much longer.
As soon as he was out upon the road he sped on after the retreating
footsteps of the shepherd, and he hailed him through the gloom. As he
came up with him he said quietly, 'Come awa to the manse and we'll hae a
bit crack.'
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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