XVIII.--ONE WAY OF LOVE 154 XIX.--ANOTHER WAY OF LOVE 169 XX.--MUTTERINGS OF STORM 185 XXI.--THE EYES OF A MAID 193 XXII.--THE ANGER OF ALEXANDER-JONITA 204 XXIII.--AT BAY 215 XXIV.--MARY GORDON’S LAST WORD 225 XXV.--BEHIND THE BROOM 233 XXVI.--JEAN GEMMELL’S BARGAIN WITH GOD 240 XXVII.--RUMOUR OF WAR 252 XXVIII.--ALEXANDER-JONITA’S VICTORY 262 XXIX.--THE ELDERS OF THE HILL FOLK 269 XXX.--SILENCE IS GOLDEN 275 XXXI.--THE FALL OF EARLSTOUN 286 XXXII.--LOVE OR DUTY 293 XXXIII.--THE DEMONIAC IN THE GARRET 304 XXXIV.--THE CURSING OF THE PRESBYTERY 310 XXXV.--LIKE THE SPIRIT OF A LITTLE CHILD 317 XXXVI.--THE STONE OF STUMBLING 325 XXXVII.--FARE YOU WELL! 331 XXXVIII.--“I LOVE YOU, QUINTIN!” 338 XXXIX.--THE LAST ROARING OF THE BULL 350 THE STANDARD BEARER. CHAPTER I. THE YEAR TERRIBLE. This is what I, Quintin MacClellan, saw on the grassy summit of the Bennan--a thing which, being seen and overpast in an hour, changed all my life, and so in time by the grace of God and the chafe of circumstances made me for good or evil the man I am. I was a herd laddie at the time, like David, keeping my father’s flocks and kicking up my heels among the collie tykes, with many another shepherd-boy in the wide moorish parishes of Minnigaff, Dalry and the Kells. Now my father (and his father before him) had been all his life “indweller” in the hill farm of Ardarroch which sits on the purple braeface above the loch of Ken, with a little circumambient yard enclosed by cattle-offices and a dozen red-stemmed fir trees, in which the winds and the birds sing after their kind, winter and summer. A sweet and grateful spot do I now remember that Ardarroch to be, and in these later days when I have tried so mickle of bliss and teen, and wearied my life out in so many wanderings and strivings, my heart still goes out kindly to the well-beloved place of my bairn-play.