heir seats, and people began to wonder why the minister was so
late. Presently a boy with bare legs and a kilt entered the church and
whispered to a very old man, who turned out to be an elder. Having
heard the boy's message, the elder crossed over to the pew in which the
laird was seated and whispered to him, not so low, however, as to
prevent Giles Jackman from hearing all that passed. The minister's
horse had fallen, he said, and bruised the minister's legs so that he
could not officiate.

"Very awkward," returned the laird, knitting his brows. "What's to be
done? It seems absurd that so many of us should assemble here just to
look solemn for a few minutes and then go home."

"Yes, sir, it iss akward," said the elder. "Could you not gif us a
discoorse yoursel', sir, from the prezenter's dask?"

The latter part of the proposition was to guard himself from the
imputation of having asked the laird to mount the _pulpit_.

"Me preach!" exclaimed the laird; "I never did such a thing in my life."

"Maype you'll read a chapter, what-e-ver," persisted the elder.

"Impossible! I never read a chapter since I was born--in public, I
mean, of course. But why not do it yourself, man?"

"So I would, sir, but my throat'll not stand it."

"Is there no other elder who could do it?"

"Not wan, sir. I'm afraid we will hev to dismiss the congregation."

At this point, to the laird's relief and no little surprise, Jackman
leaned forward, and said in a low voice, "If you have no objection, I
will undertake to conduct the service."

The elder gave the laird a look which, if it had been translated into
words, would probably have conveyed the idea--"Is he orthodox?"

"By all means, Mr Jackman," said the laird; "you will be doing us a
great favour."

Accordingly Jackman went quietly to the precentor's desk and mounted it,
much to the surprise of its proper occupant, a man with a voice like a
brass trumpet, who thereupon took his seat on a chair below the desk.

Profound was the interest of the congregation when they saw this
bronzed, broad-shouldered, big-bearded young man pull a small Bible out
of his pocket and begin to turn over the leaves. And it was noted with
additional interest by several of the people that the Bible seemed to be
a well-worn one. Looking up from it after a few minutes, during which
it was observed that his eyes had been closed, Jackman said, in an easy,
conversational tone, that quite took the p