'A thunderstorm,' said the banker, 'i' the distance. Well, there's ane thing I'd be glad to hear o' frae your new doctor, an' that is no' to be gliffed by thunner an' lightin'. I was verra nigh struck by a flash when I was a bairn oot fishin' for troots--an' I canna get the better o't.' ''Tis a lang way off,' replied the Minister, rising and looking out o' window; 'weel, it's bedtime, I'm thinkin'. Ye mun juist have a night-cap before retiring.' Nothing loath, his guest fortified himself handsomely, and was escorted to his bedroom by his host. Entering his own room, which was opposite the other, the Minister proceeded to undress, leaving the door ajar advisedly, in the event of any strategy of Ringan's contriving. He lay awake some while in watchful expectation, but as the thunderstorm had passed over and no other sound was audible, he shortly fell sound asleep. Suddenly he was roused by the most extraordinary noise. The manse seemed to be shaken to its foundation. He started up in bed. Could a flash of lightning have hit the chimney? Then he saw a light without on the landing, heard footsteps, and a voice calling him by name. 'Minister Macgregor,' it called. 'The house has been struck wi' lightnin', I'm certain.' The Minister hurried out on to the landing, and seeing his guest, by the light of the candle which he held in his shaking hand, to be much perturbed, endeavoured to comfort him. 'It was a fearfu' noise yon; it wakened me up oot o' the sleep o' the just,' he said. 'I thocht the chimney mun have been stricken, but if sae, stanes wud hae come through the roof. Maist likely the auld ash-tree by the door has been stricken. Hark!' he added, 'I think the storm's past, for it's rainin' hard enoo.' Somewhat reassured, his guest was induced to return to bed, and after the Minister left him he heard the door bolted behind him. The Minister went back to his own bed, but this time he refused to lie down, for he felt assured that Ringan was up to some fresh cantrip or other, and he wished to forestall him. The rain shortly ceased, and a faint moonlight showed itself through the window. Almost at the same time the Minister was aware of stealthy soft footings on the stairs without. Noiselessly he approached his open door, and there he saw by the dim skylight a tall figure moving on stockinged feet at the stair-head. Was it a burglar? he thought fearfully. 'No, it was Ringan. But what on earth was he carrying? Before he could interfere the tall figure set a dark object rolling down the stairs with infernal reverberation, then sat himself down on what seemed a tea-tray, and shot clattering into the gloomy deep. The Minister turned and leaped into his bed, annoyed, yet shaken with laughter. Another moment and he heard the door opposite unbolted, and a perturbed but angry voice rose outside his door: 'What the devil are ye up to? Are ye playing a trick on me, Minister? What was that fearfu' noise?'