"Lo, I will contend with thee even for name and being," said the friar. "Of the strong-holds of sin and Satan am I not afraid. I have put the ministers of thy vengeance to flight already, and I will chase, yea, I will overcome and pursue them away; as chaff is driven before the wind, will I scatter them. Dare not to contend with me; for, if I judge aright, my Master holdeth thine in chains, and if I interfere thou canst do nothing. I judge it therefore best to contend as brothers contend. To admire what is truly great, and deride that which is insignificant. Mine are the arts of peace, truth, and righteousness, and I hoped thine were the same." "Why, art thou not a monk, a follower of the wretched maniac, Benedict of Padua? that driveller in hidden mysteries?" said the Master. "I do not rightly comprehend thee, or by what power thou didst thwart my servants. Tell me in one word,--Art thou not in combination with the potent elemental spirits that rule and controul the earth, the air, the fire, and the waters? If not, thy arts are superficial and worthless." "Thou shalt see, and thou shalt judge," said the friar: "I am not ashamed of that I can do." And with that he went and brought up his huge portmanteau, in which he always carried many a small and curious apparatus; but these he kept carefully concealed, having suffered so much from the superstitions of bigotted and illiterate men, in the course of his profound researches. He was the greatest chemist that had ever appeared on the stage of existence; yet that curious and refined art was he obliged carefully to conceal, having been persecuted as a necromancer over every kingdom of southern Europe. When he went away Charlie Scott was terribly in the fidgets. He expected instantly to witness the raising of the devil, and other infernal spirits, against whom he cherished the most inveterate dislike. His eyes began to set in his head, and the roof of his mouth became so dry that he could not pronounce words distinctly. "Gude faith, Sir Master," said he, "I dinna appruve of a man setting up his birse, and braving a gentleman in his ain house. And, wi' your permission, I hae something o' great importance to do at the mill; sae I'll e'en step down that length, and I shall come up again' the morning by day-light." "Please to remain with your friends, good yeoman," said the Master: "You shall witness something worth your while. What can you possibly have to do at the mill?" "Muckle, muckle to do at the mill, Sir Knight; I'll just refer it to yoursel,--can either man or beast leeve wanting drink?" "I beg your pardon," said the Master: "I had almost forgot my principal errand. Gourlay, fill me a glass of the wine of Palestine."