“Dinna speak like that, Burnbrae; the doctor hesna hed his say yet; the 'll be somethin' worth hearin' when he faces the factor,” and Drumsheugh waited for the battle between Church and State with a pleasurable anticipation of lively argument, tempered only by a sense of Burnbrae's anxiety. The factor, who was dressed in the height of sporting fashion and looked as if he had lived hard, received the doctor and his henchman with effusion. “Doctor Davidson, Established Church clergyman of Drumtochty? quite a pleasure to see you; one of our farmers, I think; seen you before, eh? Drum, Drum--can't quite manage your heathenish names yet, d' ye know. “Splendid grouse moor you 've got up here, and only one poacher in the whole district, the keepers tell me. D' you take a gun yourself, Doctor--ah--Donaldson, or does the kirk not allow that kind of thing?” and the factor's laugh had a fine flavour of contempt for a Scotch country minister. “My name is Davidson, at your service, Mr. Tomkyns, and I've shot with Lord Kilspindie when we were both young fellows in the 'forties, from Monday to Friday, eight hours a day, and our bag for the week was the largest that has ever been made in Perthshire. “But I came here on a matter of business, and, if you have no objection, I would like to ask a simple question.” “Delighted, I'm sure, to tell you anything you wish,” said the factor, considerably sobered. “Well a very unpleasant rumour is spreading through the parish that you have refused to renew a farmer's lease unless he promised to leave the Free Church?” “An old fellow, standing very straight, with white hair, called--let me see, Baxter; yes, that's it, Baxter; is that the man?” “Yes, that is the name,” said the doctor, with growing severity; “John Baxter of Bumbrae, the best man in the parish of Drumtochty; and I want an answer to my question.” “You will get it,” and Tomkyns fixed his eye-glass with an aggressive air. “I certainly told Baxter that if he wanted to stay on the estate he must give up his dissenting nonsense and go to the kirk.” “May I ask your reason for this extraordinary condition?” and Drumsheugh could see that the Doctor was getting dangerous. “Got the wrinkle from my cousin's, Lord De Tomkyns's, land agent. He's cleared all the Methodists off their estate. “'The fewer the dissenters the better,' he said to me, 'when you come to an election, d' you know.'” “Are you mad, and worse than mad? Who gave you authority to interfere with any man's religion? You know neither the thing you are doing, nor the men with whom you have to do. Our farmers, thank God, are not ignorant serfs who know nothing and cannot call their souls their own, but men who have learned to think for themselves, and fear no one save Almighty God.” The factor could hardly find his voice for amazement. “But, I say, aren't you the Established Kirk minister and a Tory? This seems to me rather strange talk, don't you know.”