'I'm thinkin' sir,' suggested Joseph, 'Patey Soutar wad be wullen' to gie us his pownie, seein' its you. It's a sore nicht for the puir beast, but than there's the gude cause, an' ye'll no be forgettin' the ruch wather e'y pay, sir. Patey's pownie's a canny baste, an' sure-fittet e'y dark. Mony's the time he's brocht Patey safe hame, an' him wi' a drappie in's heid 'at garred him see no' that strecht afore him.' 'Yes,' returned the minister, with a patient shrug; 'and he won't run away with me, that's certain.' It was manifest he would have to go, reason or no reason. To reduce the question to one of common sense would have raised too many questions hard or inconvenient to answer; and as to his own comfort, he had long learned to yield that. In a popular movement the people who are wont to be led will sometimes drive by the mere force already communicated to their inertia, and the minister, accustomed to lead, will sometimes find himself pushed or driven by the very impulse he has himself originated. Mary's remonstrances were in vain. She could only do her best towards arming her brother against the storm, and seeing that his mackintosh and plaid were securely wrapped around him. Considerate, as usual, for every one but himself, the minister offered the young fisherman shelter for the night, to await the morning coach, but that was declined with a 'Na na, sir! Shanks' naig diz fine for the like o' me. An' surely gin _ye_ can thole the rough nicht, I'se do weel enough.' Up the steep hill road that runs eastward from Glen Effick and gradually gains the upland moor dividing it from the sea, the two wayfarers floundered in the darkness. The water-courses being already choked with their hurrying floods, the road became the natural vent for the superfluous deluge, and had changed into a roaring torrent, carrying down stones and gravel in its course, and rendering travel against the stream both difficult and dangerous. The pony had full opportunity to prove his character for sagacity and sure-footedness, and he vindicated it triumphantly, for he kept on his way despite of all impediments, while poor Sandie, the fisher lad, found his footing give way and himself rolled over among the rattling stones more than once, when he would pick himself up again with a 'Hech sirse! but my hirdies are sair forfuchan.' As they won their way upwards, the darkness grew less intense, and the flooding of the road less serious; but it was not till they had reached the level of the moorland looking straight out to sea, that they were able to realize the full fury of the tempest, which threatened each moment to catch them up in its arms and dash them to the ground. The rain, however, had abated, and there was refreshment in the salt keen breath of the distant sea. An occasional rift in the clouds let through a feeble glimmer, and as they staggered along they could make out the broken horizon line of the black tumbling waters.