urch?"

"A' stood ower him, Doctor, an' a' juist said tae masel', 'Shall a'
smite wi' the sword?' but a' left him alane for this time." And so
they started--John in front with the books, and the Doctor a pace
behind, his box now in the left hand, with a handkerchief added, and
the other holding up his gown, both dignitaries bare-headed,
unself-conscious, absorbed in their office.

The books were carried level with the top button of John's
waistcoat--the Psalm-book being held in its place by the two extended
thumbs--and neither were allowed to depart from the absolute horizontal
by an eighth of an inch, even going up the pulpit stairs. When they
had been deposited in their place, and slightly patted, just to settle
them, John descended to make way for the Doctor, who had been waiting
beneath in a commanding attitude. He then followed the minister up,
and closed the door--not with a bang, but yet so that all might know he
had finished his part of the work. If any one had doubted how much
skill went to this achievement, he had his eyes opened when John had
the lumbago, and the smith arrived at the kirk door three yards ahead
of the Doctor, and let the Psalm-book fall on the pulpit floor.

"We 're thankfu' tae hae ye back, John," said Hillocks. "Yon wes a
temptin' o' Providence."

Once only had I the privilege of seeing John in this his glory, and the
sight of him afflicted me with a problem no one has ever solved. It
might, indeed, be made a branch of scientific investigation, and would
then be called the Genesis of Beadles. Was a beadle ever a baby? What
like was he before he appeared in his office? Was he lying as a
cardinal in petto till the right moment, and then simply showed himself
to be appointed as one born unto this end? No one dared to hint that
John had ever followed any other avocation, and an effort to connect
John with the honourable trade of plumbing in the far past was justly
regarded as a disgraceful return of Tammie Ronaldson's for much
faithful dealing. Drumtochty refused to consider his previous history,
if he had any, and looked on John in his office as a kind of
Melchizedek, a mysterious, isolated work of Providence.

He was a mere wisp of a man, with a hard, keen face, iron-grey hair
brushed low across his forehead, and clean-shaven cheeks.

[Illustration: He was a mere wisp of a man.]

"A 've naething tae say against a beard," on being once consulted, "an'
a 'm no prepared tae de