table.

'And there's my sovereign alongside it,' cried the visitor
vaingloriously.

'Aweel,' the ancient continued, 'the Meenister can be the stake-holder,
an' the landlord can set ye awa as the clock strikes twalve the morrow
nicht. If ye win through to the manse your lane ye'll hae won my
shillin'; if no', the Meenister will hae a sovereign i' the ladle next
Sawbath.'

The landlord assented, the others all approved the suggestion, the
Minister placed the stakes carefully into his waistcoat pocket, and the
aged shepherd departed, chuckling to himself over his wager.

The Minister continued to converse about ghosts for a minute or more,
then he too rose, saying that 'the wife' would be getting nervous if she
'wanted' him much longer.

As soon as he was out upon the road he sped on after the retreating
footsteps of the shepherd, and he hailed him through the gloom. As he
came up with him he said quietly, 'Come awa to the manse and we'll hae a
bit crack.'

* * * * *

Hallow E'en drew on stormy and dark, and Elliot at the inn began to
regret that he had ever accepted the wager, though for very shame he
could not now withdraw from his forbidding task. At a quarter to twelve
then precisely, having fortified himself with a final dram and lighted a
cigar, he set forth upon his mission. He knew the path quite well, and
could make no pretence at missing his way, but when he had crossed the
burn by the shaking little wire suspension bridge sudden fear assailed
him. There was a gusty wind sweeping drumly clouds athwart the
sky--faintly illuminated by the dying moon; now a few stars appeared
momentarily, then a swathe of darkness enveloped all. The old kirkyard,
with its tottering headstones grouped around the black kirk, had an
eldritch look in the murky night, and Elliot's heart sank into his boots
as he drew nigh.

The clouds had lifted as he walked swiftly but unsteadily onward. What
was that? He heard something move, and looked about him fearfully.
Suddenly from beside the little kirkyard gate a monstrous form rose
up--soot-black, horned, and threatening. It advanced upon him, tossing
its horrid horns, but without speaking. _Could it be 'Auld Clootie'
himself?_

Elliot's knees became as water; he staggered on, but at that very moment
a terrible bray resounded from the hollow on his left, and Elliot,
overcome with terror, fell to the earth. 'Minister Macgregor,' he
yelled; 'O Minist