e crater. I'm auld, and I'm
crooket, and whiles my head's no richt, and there are folk that dinna
like to anger me, for fear that I micht wish an ill wish on them. I
read my Bible, and say my prayers like ither folk. But I'm no sayin'
that I haena seen uncanny things happen to folk that hae gaen against
me. There's Brownrig himsel' for instance.

"I'm no' sayin' to ye to do the lass nae ill. Ye seem a decent man, and
hae nae cause to mean her ill. But never ye name her name. That's gude
advice--though I havena ta'en it mysel'. Gude-day to ye. And haste ye
awa'. Dinna let Brownrig's evil een licht on ye, or he'll hae out o' ye
a' ye ken and mair, ere ye can turn roond. Gude-day to ye."

"Gude-day to you," said Saunners, rising. He watched her till she
passed round the hill, and then he went away.

But the repentant wee wifie did not lose sight of him till he had gone
many miles on his homeward way. She followed him in the distance, and
only turned back when she caught sight of Brownrig on his black horse,
with his face turned toward his home.

Though Saunners would not have owned that the woman's words had hastened
his departure, he lost no time in setting out. It was not impossible
that, should Brownrig fall in with him later, he might seek to find out
whether he had ever seen or heard of Allison Bain, since that seemed to
be his way with strangers. That he should wile out of him any
information that he chose to keep to himself, Saunners thought little
likely. But he might ask a direct question; and the old man told
himself he could hold up his face and lie to no man, even to save
Allison Bain.

So he hastened away, and the weariness of his homeward road was
doubtless beguiled by the thoughts which he had about the story he had
heard, and about his duty concerning it. His wisdom would be to forget
it altogether, he told himself. But he could not do so. He came to the
manse that night with the intention of telling Allison all he had heard,
and of getting the truth from her. But when he saw her sitting there so
safe, and out of harm's way, he could not do it.

And yet he could not put it altogether out of his thoughts. He would
not harm a hair of the lassie's head. A good woman she must be, for she
had been doing her duty in the manse for nearly a year now, and never a
word to be spoken against her. And who knew to what straits she might
be driven if she were obliged to go away and seek anothe