The minister shook his head, remarking, "Tut, tut! that would never have done! No human being wished that." "That’s what I said," continued Katie; "an’ whan he rowed up the sleeves o’ his sark, and took haud o’ the bit thing tae thraw its neck, I wadna let him, but daured him to do it, that did I; and I ken’t ye wad hae dune the same, fur the sake o’ wee Charlie, that was sae fond o’ you. Oh, forgie me, forgie him, if I was wrang! A mither’s feelings are no easy hauden doon!" Was this account the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Perhaps not. But then, good brother or sister, if you are disposed to blame Katie, we defend not even this weary mourner from thee. Take the first stone and cast it at her! Yet we think, as you do so, we see the Perfect One writing on the ground; and if He is writing her condemnation, ’tis in the dust of earth, and the kindly rain or winds of heaven will soon obliterate the record. "No more about this painful affair, I beseech of you," said the minister, taking a very large and long pinch of snuff; "let us rather try and comfort Adam. This is our present duty." "God Himsel’ bless ye!" said Katie, kissing the back of his hand; "but ye maunna gang near him; dinna risk yer valuable life; the fivver is awfu’ smittal. Dr. Scott wull let naebody in." "And have you no nurse?" inquired Mr. Porteous, not thinking of himself. This question recalled to her mind what seemed another mysterious stumbling-block. She knew not what to say in reply. Jock Hall was at that moment seated like a statue beside the bed, and what would the minister think when he saw this representative of parish wickedness in an elder’s house? She had no time for lengthened explanations; all she said, therefore, was, "The only nurse Dr. Scott and me could get was nae doot a puir bodie, yet awfu’ strang and fit tae haud Adam doon, whan aside himsel’; and he had nae fear o’ his ain life--and was a gratefu’ cratur--and had ta’en a great notion o’ Adam, and is kin’ o’ reformed--that--that I thocht--weel, I maun jist confess, the nurse is Jock Hall!" "Jock Hall!" exclaimed the minister, lifting his eyebrows with an expression of astonishment; "is it possible? But I leave to you and the Doctor the selection of a nurse. It is a secular matter, with which officially I have nothing to do. My business is with spiritual things; let me therefore see the Sergeant. I have no fear. I’m in God’s hands. All I have to do is my duty. That is my principle." "Jist let me ben a minute first," asked Katie. She went accordingly to the room and whispered to Jock, "Gang to the laft; the minister is comin’ ben--Aff!’ "Mind what ye’re baith aboot!" said Jock, pointing to his patient. "Be canny wi’ him--be canny--nae preachin’ e’enoo, mind, or flytin’, or ye’ll rue’t. Losh, I’ll no stan’t!" As the minister entered the room he saw Jock Hall rapidly vanishing like a spectre, as he stole to his den among the straw.