"That's verra true, now that ye mention't," gravely assented the ex-Provost. His opinion of Brodie's sagacity, high already, was enhanced by the remark. "Indeed, that's verra true. But how does't apply to young Gourlay in particular, Thomas? Is _he_ after some damsel o' the gill-stoup?" "Ou ay--he's ta'en a fancy to yon bit shilp in the bar-room o' the Red Lion. He's always hinging owre the counter talking till her, a cigarette dropping from his face, and a half-fu' tumbler at his elbow. When a young chap takes to hinging round bars, ae elbow on the counter and a hand on his other hip, I have verra bad brows o' him always--verra bad brows, indeed. Oh--oh, young Gourlay's just a goner! a goner, sirs--a goner!" "Have ye heard about him at the Skeighan Fair?" said Sandy Toddle. "No, man," said Brodie, bowing down and keeking at Toddle in his interest; "I hadna heard about tha-at! Is this a _new_ thing?" "Oh, just at the fair; the other day, ye know!" "Ay, man, Sandy!" said big Brodie, stooping down to Toddle to get near the news; "and what was it, Sandy?" "Ou, just drinking, ye know, wi'--wi' Swipey Broon--and, eh, and that M'Craw, ye know--and Sandy Hull--and a wheen mair o' that kind--ye ken the kind; a verra bad lot!" said Sandy, and wagged a disapproving pow. "Here they all got as drunk as drunk could be, and started fighting wi' the colliers! Young Gourlay got a bloodied nose! Then nothing would serve him but he must drive back wi' young Pin-oe, who was even drunker than himsell. They drave at sic a rate that when they dashed from this side o' Skeighan Drone the stour o' their career was rising at the far end. They roared and sang till it was a perfect affront to God's day, and frae sidie to sidie they swung till the splash-brods were skreighing on the wheels. At a quick turn o' the road they wintled owre; and there they were, sitting on their doups in the atoms o' the gig, and glowering frae them! When young Gourlay slid hame at dark he was in such a state that his mother had to hide him frae the auld man. She had that, puir body! The twa women were obliged to carry the drunk lump to his bedroom--and yon lassie far ga'en in consumption, too, they tell me! Ou, he was in a perfectly awful condition--perfectly awful!" "Ay, man," nodded Brodie. "I hadna heard o't. Curious that I didna hear o' that!" "It was Drucken Wabster's wife that telled it. There's not a haet that happens at the Gourlays but she clypes. I speired her mysell, and she says young Gourlay has a black eye." "Ay, ay; there'th thmall hope for the Gourlayth in _him_!" said the Deacon.