It was not until Marion and Donald had gone to their rooms that the Minister felt inclined to explain his tardy return from the city. "I was afraid you would be anxious, Jessy," he said; and she answered, "Not about you, Ian. I knew you were all right, but I was feared about Donald. I thought something was wrong with him, and I could not fix on any particular danger. I thought of the trains and the sea, but someway they both assured my mind they were innocent of doing him any harm. The trouble was an unknown one. What was it, Ian?" "Not much, Jessy. Donald has not been behaving himself after the ways and manners approved of by the Reids." "I never yet heard any word of the Reids being set for our example. What way was Donald breaking their laws?" "It seems, Jessy, that last Wednesday night there was some kind of civic anniversary--the Provost's birthday, or the birthday of some great man or other. I have totally forgotten the name or event. And serenading came into the thoughts of Donald and four others, and they lifted their violins and went together to the Provost's house. As it happened, he was eating a late supper after his speech in the City Hall, and the lads played and sang the songs in every Scotsman's heart. And there were three or four of his cronies with the Provost and, when the lads had sang twice over, 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,' they brought in the singers and made them sit and drink a glass of toddy at their table, and the Provost thanked them heartily and gave them a five-pound note to share between them." "That was fine! The Provost is a gentleman. And he knew how to win the hearts of the Scotch laddies growing up to be good Scotchmen. Who were the five lads, Ian?" "Donald was the leader, and there were with him Matthew Ballantyne, David Kerr, John Montrose, and Allan Reid, all of them members of my Wednesday night Bible class." "Then I cannot believe they did anything much out of the way, unless the Reids' way is narrower than the Bible way." "After they left the Provost's, Donald suddenly bethought himself that it was also his Uncle Hector's birthday, and they all went to his big house in Blytheswood Square. There was a light in his parlor; for, you know, he always reads until the new day is born, and this night he was reading 'Nicholas Nickleby,' and laughing with himself over that insane _Mark Tapley's_ pretenses to be jolly. Suddenly the violins asked sweetly and passionately, 'Wha Wadna Fecht for Charlie'? The old man took no notice. Then they all together began to merrily tell him, ''Twas up the craggy mountain, And down the wooded glen, They durst na go a-milking, For Charlie and his men.' And by the time they had finished this delightful complaint, and Donald had lifted his voice to assert that, 'Geordie sits in Charlie's chair,' and exhorted all true Hieland men, 'Keep up your hearts, for Charlie's fight, Come what will, you've done what's right,'