I hurried to the town by the Roods. That brae was as deserted as the country roads, except where children had escaped from their mothers to wade in it. Here and there dams were keeping the water away from one door to send it with greater volume to another, and at points the ground had fallen in. But this I noticed without interest. I did not even realize that I was holding my head painfully to the side where it had been blown by the wind and glued by the rain. I have never held my head straight since that journey. Only a few looms were going, their pedals in water. I was addressed from several doors and windows, once by Charles Yuill. "Dinna pretend," he said, "that you've walked in frae the school- house alane. The rain chased me into this house yestreen, and here it has keeped me, though I bide no further awa than Tillyloss." "Charles," I said in a low voice, "why is the Auld Licht bell ringing?" "Hae you no heard about Mr. Dishart?" he asked. "Ob, man! that's Lang Tammas in the kirk by himsel', tearing at the bell to bring the folk thegither to depose the minister." Instead of going to Whamond's house in the school wynd I hastened down the Banker's close to the kirk, and had almost to turn back, so choked was the close with floating refuse. I could see the bell swaying, but the kirk was locked, and I battered on the door to no purpose. Then, remembering that Henry Munn lived in Coutt's trance, I set off for his house. He saw me crossing the square, but would not open his door until I was close to it. "When I open," he cried, "squeeze through quick"; but though I did his bidding, a rush of water darted in before me. Hendry reclosed the door by flinging himself against it. "When I saw you crossing the square," he said, "it was surprise enough to cure the hiccup." "Hendry," I replied instantly, "why is the Auld Licht bell ringing?" He put his finger to his lip. "I see," he said imperturbably, "you've met our folk in the glen and heard frae them about the minister." "What folk?" "Mair than half the congregation," he replied, "I started for Glen Quharity twa hours syne to help the farmers. You didna see them?" "No; they must have been on the other side of the river." Again that question forced my lips, "Why is the bell ringing?" "Canny, dominie," he said, "till we're up the stair. Mysy Moncur's lug's at her keyhole listening to you." "You lie, Hendry Munn," cried an invisible woman. The voice became more plaintive: "I ken a heap, Hendry, so you may as well tell me a'."