The fields at Shortrigg were unfortunate on this particular day. The young farmer had things in his head of more immediate interest than draining, and while he tried to keep his mind awake to the question of the superabundant hedges, incipient sentences of the triumphant letter, which should convey those wonderful tidings to the North, floated through his joyous head, to the entire bewilderment of himself and his companion. It would not do; the young Utopia routed the sober science of agriculture, and Mossgray, with secret smiles, invented some kind pretext for sending Halbert home. It pleased the old man that the youth should be so pleasantly disturbed, and his eagerness to communicate his joy to the only home he had ever known gave additional satisfaction to the gentle heart of Adam Graeme. “I did not think,” said Mossgray to himself half-aloud, as he lingered at the corner of one of the condemned ‘three-neukit’ fields, watching the rapid progress of Halbert, as, bounding over all manner of obstacles, he carried his exulting heart home to Mossgray, “I did not think that my old pragmatical friend, Monikie, could have succeeded in producing such a lad as Halbert; and I fancy I must see this Menie of his, and renew my acquaintance with her father. And I too have children. Resolutions, resolutions! what mockery they are; that I might have debarred myself such companions as these for the sake of words rashly spoken!” He turned round, shaking his head with a smile. Saunders Delvie was standing near, evidently listening. He had heard the conclusion of the soliloquy. “Well, Saunders,” said Mossgray, “I believe you do not agree with me?” “Na, Mossgray,” answered Saunders, harshly, “I haud by the auld law. Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oath.” “But I am speaking of resolutions, Saunders,” said the Laird, “uncertain mortal resolves, ignorantly made, which better knowledge shows us were foolish and wrong. You would not have me hold by anything so weak as that?” “Ay, Mossgray,” said the stern old man, holding his ground decidedly; “but an ane was wise, ane would make nae vows in ignorance; and when a vow was made, would keep it, if it was to the very death.” “But, Saunders, my man,” said the good master, kindly, “you know me well enough to know that I am not so wise as that; and I am too old to learn.” “Mossgray,” said Saunders Delvie, “I’m just your serving-man, but I’m in years mysel’--and I can take nae rule but Scripture, though I would do as muckle to pleasure my maister as most folk; but the Word’s positive and clear. Vow unto the Lord and pay.”