At this moment Elspeth came in, smiling. She had been absent much longer than they had expected her to be; for she had not only prepared the little spare bedroom for her son, but she had washed up all her dishes and done all her usual evening work. She carried a lighted candle in a low, broad brass candlestick. She courtesied to the ladies and gentleman, as was her custom, and then she said to her boy: “And now, Sam, the room the kind master has given you is all ready, and I will show it to you if you will come.” And Longman arose, bade good-night to his hosts, and turned to leave the room, when Mr. Campbell said: “But perhaps you would like to join us in our evening service.” Longman bowed in silence, and resumed his seat. “Yes,” said Elspeth brightly. “Every night and morning since I have been in this house has the minister prayed for my wandering boy’s return, and now that he has come we will give thanks.” Jennie arose and got the Bible and prayer book and laid them before her father. And the evening service began. In the course of it Mr. Campbell did return “earnest and hearty thanks” for the restoration of the widow’s son, and prayed that all wanderers from the spiritual fold of the Lord might likewise be brought back. When the service was over, Elspeth, after bidding good-night to her friends, took up her candle and showed her boy the way to his bedroom. And soon after the minister and his wife and daughter retired. The next day was one of those benign autumn days that sometimes revisit us even late in December, to encourage and help us through the winter. The sky was radiantly clear and the sun dazzlingly bright. The many evergreen trees around the parsonage had something like the fresh verdure of early spring upon them. It was a day that any healthy person might have enjoyed the outdoor air without much extra clothing. After breakfast Longman went over to the Hall to see his friends. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, standing together at the door, watched him walking down the walled road that led to the park gates. “It is astonishing,” said the curate, “that so honest a man as Longman should have such a respect for that villain Montgomery as he appears to have.” “I suppose the young fellow has never seen the villain’s cloven foot, and men have no intuitions to guide them as we have, you know,” replied Hetty. And then, though the splendor of the day invited them to remain outdoors, they went inside, each to his or her own work. The minister went to his study to work on his next Sunday morning’s sermon. Hetty to her linen closet to look over her stores for mending. Jennie, well wrapped up, to take her baby, also warmly clad, through the garden walks. Elspeth to her kitchen to wash up the breakfast service. The minister, however, had scarcely got under way with his manuscripts before the doorbell rang, and he sprang up to answer it. Prowt, the bailiff of Haymore, stood there.