'Ay! an' the cuttie stule for them baith,' ejaculated Peter as he made for the door, for Tibbie was reaching up for her porridge-stick on the shelf, and an onslaught seemed imminent. The other two followed without the ceremony of leave-taking, further 'dealing' with the enraged old woman, being manifestly out of the question. Slowly and disappointedly they wended back to the village, while Tibbie stood out in the road before her cottage shaking her fist and scolding at the top of her voice. Doubtless she had reason; but the wind caught up her words as they flew, and they never reached the ears of her retreating enemies. CHAPTER XXXI. _A CATECHIST_. Mr. Geddie parted from his companions in the village, and finding he had missed the Laird, set forth on a solitary walk back to Auchlippie. It had been but a sorry day's work, with much that was painful in its course, and no good done to show for it. He sighed as he passed in the waning light the remembered landmarks of the morning, and recalled the very different state of feeling in which he had then remarked them. The light had faded in himself as well as in the sky overhead. Then, was he not going forth in his might? a Gideon in armour to vanquish the armies of the aliens? or Ithuriel, perhaps, his bright pinions flashing in the sun, the long sharp spear of truth in his hand, gleaming like a star, and ready to pierce through sin and falsehood? Now it was different. The spear was blunted or had lost its point, the wings hung limp and useless from his shoulders, and the feathers were all in disarray, like some poor game-bird worsted in the fight, or caught in heavy rain; the gay plumage draggled pitifully and dim, the neck and tail, that erst stood so erect, now drooping and forlorn in wisps of humiliation. The day had faded and the sun had gone down. It was a new chapter added to his ministerial experience. Alas, for the persistency of the besotted human heart in sin, and its callous insensibility to words in season, spoken in love and faithfulness. Mankind must be wickeder even than he had thought, and he had been taught to believe in their total depravity. It never occurred to him that there might be some mistake. The accusers comprised nearly the whole body of office-bearers in the church--the excellent of the earth, men with the same 'views' and shibboleths as himself; and more than that, most attentive hearers and great admirers of his preaching--the strongest possible proof in favour of their credibility and soundness of judgment. He felt fully justified in adopting their suspicions and accepting them as certainties--facts either already established or about to be proved, and then with the characteristic tenacity of the clerical mind, he held them fast. It was true that this accused brother had hitherto led an exemplary life, that, refusing opportunities of greater ease and emolument, he had declined