"Would you open the gate and allow me to pass on my way?" he said, with chill politeness. The minister of the Marrow kirk looked keenly at him from under his grey eyebrows. "After I have had a few words with you, young sir," said Mr. Welsh. "I desire no words with you," returned the young man impatiently, backing his horse. "For whom are your visits at Craig Ronald intended?" said the minister calmly. "Walter Skirving and his spouse do not receive company of such dignity; and besides them there are only the maids that I know of." "Who made you my father confessor?" mocked Agnew Greatorix, with an unpleasant sneer on his handsome face. "The right of being minister in the things of the Spirit to all that dwell in Craig Ronald House," said the minister of the Marrow firmly. "Truly a pleasant ministry, and one, no doubt, requiring frequent ministrations; yet do I not remember to have met you at Craig Ronald," he continued. "So faithful a minister surely must be faithful in his spiritual attentions." He urged his horse to the side of the gate and leaned over to open the gate himself, but the minister had his hand firmly on the latch. "I have seen you ride to many maids' houses, Agnew Greatorix, since the day your honoured father died, but never a one have I seen the better of your visits. Woe and sorrow have attended upon your way. You may ride off now at your ease, but beware the vengeance of the God of Jacob; the mother's curse and the father's malison ride not far behind!" "Preach me no preachments," said the young man; "keep such for your Marrow folk on Sundays; you but waste your words." "Then I beseech you by the memory of a good father, whom, though of another and an alien communion, I shall ever respect, to cast your eyes elsewhere, and let the one ewe lamb of those whom God hath stricken alone." The gate was open now, and as he came through, Agnew Greatorix made his horse curvet, pushing the frail form of the preacher almost into the hedge. "If you would like to come and visit us up at the castle," he said mockingly, "I dare say we could yet receive you as my forefathers, of whom you are so fond, used to welcome your kind. I saw the thumbikins the other day; and I dare say we could fit you with your size in boots." "The Lord shall pull down the mighty from their seats, and exalt them that are of low estate!" said the preacher solemnly. "Very likely," said the young man as he rode away. CHAPTER XV. ON THE EDGE OF THE ORCHARD.