Katie rose up, her face pale with--dare we say it?--suppressed passion. This call of Menzies was to give strength and comfort, forsooth, to her in her affliction! She seized the elder by his arm, drew him gently to the door of the bedroom, which was so far open as to enable him to see Adam asleep. One arm of the Sergeant was extended over the bed, his face was towards them, his grey locks escaped from under his night-cap, and his expression was calm and composed. Katie said nothing, but pointed to her husband and looked sternly at Menzies. She then led him to the street door, and whispered in his ear-- "Ae word afore we pairt:--I wadna gie that man, in health or sickness, life or death, for a’ the Session! If _he’s_ no’ a Christian, an’ if _he_ hasna God’s blessing, wae’s me for the warl’! I daur ony o’ ye to come here again, and speak ill o’ him, as if he was in a faut! I daur ony o’ ye to touch his bird! Tell that to Smellie--tell’t to the parish, and lee me alane wi’ my ain heart, wi’ my ain guidman, and wi’ my ain Saviour, to live or dee as the Almighty wills!" Katie turned back into her kitchen, while poor Menzies walked out into the street, feeling no anger but much pain, and more than ever convinced that he had been made a tool of by Smellie, contrary to his own common-sense and better feeling. Menzies made a very short report of the scene to the draper, saying that he would wash his hands clean of the whole business; to which Smellie only said to himself thoughtfully, as Menzies left his shop, "I wish I could do the same--but I’ll try!" CHAPTER XXVII THE SERGEANT’S SICKNESS AND HIS SICK-NURSE