Such was Smellie’s "game", as it may be called. For his own ends he was really anxious that Mr. Porteous should feel kindly towards the Sergeant, so far at least as to retrace the steps he had taken in his case. He was actuated by fear lest Adam, if crushed, should be induced to turn against himself, and, in revenge, expose his former dishonest conduct. He did not possess necessarily any gratitude for the generous part which Adam had played towards him;--for nothing is more hateful to a proud man, than to be under an obligation to one whom he has injured. It was also very doubtful how far Mr. Porteous, from the strong and public position he had taken in the case, would, or could yield, unless there was opened up to him some such back-door of escape as Smellie was contriving, to save his consistency. If this could be accomplished without himself being implicated, Smellie saw some hope of ultimate reconciliation, and the consequent removal on the Sergeant’s part of the temptation to "peach". Mr. Menzies, however, was ill at ease. The work Smellie had assigned to him was not agreeable, and he was only induced to attempt its performance in the hope that the escape of the starling would lead ultimately to the quashing of all proceedings against Adam. With these feelings he went off to call upon Mrs. Mercer. CHAPTER XXVI THE STARLING AGAIN IN DANGER Mrs. Mercer received her visitor very coldly. She associated his name with what she called "the conspiracy", and felt aggrieved that he had never visited her husband during those previous weeks of trial. He was, as she expressed it, "a sight for sair een". Mr. Menzies made the best excuse he could, and described the circumstances in which he had been placed towards Adam as "the reason why he had not visited her sooner. He said, also, that however painful it was to him, he had nevertheless been obliged by his ordination vows to do his duty as a member of Session, and he hoped not in vain, as he might now be the means of making peace between his friend, Mr. Mercer, and the minister. "I’m Charlie’s bairn," said the starling, just as Menzies had given a preliminary cough, and was about to approach the question which had chiefly brought him to the cottage. "I’m Charlie’s bairn--a man’s a man--kick, kur--whitt, whitt." The starling seemed unable or unwilling to end the sentence; at last it came out clear and distinct--"a man’s a man for a’ that". Mr. Menzies did not feel comfortable. "I dinna wunner, Mrs. Mercer," at last he said, "at you and Adam likin’ that bird! He is really enticing, and by ordinar, I maun confess." "There’s naething wrang wi’ the bird," said Katie, examining the seam of her apron, adding in an indifferent tone of voice, "If folk wad only let it alane, it’s discreet, and wad hairm naebody."