The morning coach for Inverlyon reached the brow of the hill, coming down, while he was still wending upwards. It stopped there, and its passengers were required to alight, and make their way downward on foot, while the driver, with all precaution, guided his team and the empty vehicle over the encumbered track. The passengers included a parishioner or two of the minister's, who by and by encountered him on their descent, and greeted him effusively. His response, however, was absent and constrained, he was wholly disinclined to stand still in the middle of the tedious ascent, or engage in the desultory gossip so dear to his rustic friends. In truth, he was worn out. His tempestuous journey over-night, the early start without breakfast, the sad spectacle of death which he had beheld, and doubts how best to do his duty to his helpless charge, had thrown him into a melancholy and preoccupied mood, and deprived him of all power to enter into indifferent chat. He made no attempt, therefore, to rein up the 'pownie,' and that canny beast went tranquilly forward, picking his steps as seemed best among the sods and heather tufts by the side of the road. 'What's come ower the minister? He wad scarce gie us the time o' day as he gaed by, an' he glowered at a body like the far awa end o' Willie Cant's fiddle. An' what brings him awa down here at this time o' day? An' ridin' on that godless chield, Patey Soutar's pownie! I'm sair misdoubtin' but he's been after nae gude!' 'Hoot, awa! Peter Malloch, ye maunna judge sae hard. I'm jalousin' he's been awa a' nicht, an' aiblins he's meditatin' on his next discoorse. Gin he'd gotten as far as the twalthly, or even the seventhly, ye see, he wadna be for brecken aff, to haver wi' a curran fules, ower a' the clashes o' the country side.' 'Speak for yersel, Tammas! An' dinna ye be for judgin' the office-bearers o' the Lord's Kirk by yer ain silly sel'. I'm thinkin gin he'd kenned a' 'at I cud hae telt him, he'd hae frisket up his legs, an' drawn bridle fast enough. The Sustentation Fund's prosperin' bye a' expectation, an' I wad hae telled him a' about it. But noo he can juist bide till the next Deacons' Coort, whan I'll read my report. Set him up wi' his high looks! Is't no me 'ats gatherin' the siller that's to pay him wi?' 'Hoot! Peter, man, I'm thinkin' he was that carried like in's mind, he didna ken even wha it was gaed by! But I'm sayin', Peter, what was yon the minister was carryin' afore him on the saidle, 'at he took sae muckle tent on? It was sma' an' muckle happit up, an' he ne'er took his e'en aff it. Gin it hadna been him I'd hae said it was a bairn, an' he was blate ower 't.'