e thocht it but to
thun'er on the morn; but the morn cam', an' the morn's morning, an' it
was aye the same uncanny weather, sair on folks and bestial. O' a' that
were the waur, nane suffered like Mr. Soulis; he could neither sleep nor
eat, he tauld his elders; an' when he wasna writin' at his weary book,
he wad be stravaguin' ower a' the countryside like a man possessed, when
a' body else was blithe to keep caller ben the house.

Abune Hangin' Shaw, in the bield o' the Black Hill, there's a bit
enclosed grund wi' an iron yett; an' it seems, in the auld days, that
was the kirkyaird o' Ba'weary, and consecrated by the Papists before the
blessed licht shone upon the kingdom. It was a great howff o' Mr.
Soulis's, onyway; there he wad sit an' consider his sermons; an' indeed
it's a bieldy bit. Weel, as he cam' ower the wast end o' the Black Hill
ae day, he saw first twa, an' syne fower, an' syne seeven corbie craws
fleein' round an' round abune the auld kirkyaird. They flew laigh an'
heavy, an' squawked to ither as they gaed; an' it was clear to Mr.
Soulis that something had put them frae their ordinar'. He wasna easy
fleyed, an' gaed straucht up to the wa's; an' what suld he find there
but a man, or the appearance o' a man, sittin' in the inside upon a
grave. He was of a great stature, an' black as hell, an' his e'en were
singular to see.[6] Mr. Soulis had heard tell o' black men, mony's the
time; but there was something unco about this black man that daunted
him. Het as he was, he took a kind o' cauld grue in the marrow o' his
banes; but up he spak for a' that; an' says he: "My friend, are you a
stranger in this place?" The black man answered never a word; he got
upon his feet, an' begoud to hirsle to the wa' on the far side; but he
aye lookit at the minister; an' the minister stood an' lookit back; till
a' in a meenit the black man was ower the wa' an' rinnin' for the bield
o' the trees. Mr. Soulis, he hardly kenned why, ran after him; but he
was fair forjeskit wi' his walk an' the het, unhalesome weather; an' rin
as he likit, he got nae mair than a glisk o' the black man amang the
birks, till he won doun to the foot o' the hillside, an' there he saw
him ance mair, gaun hap-step-an'-lowp ower Dule water to the manse.

Mr. Soulis wasna weel pleased that this fearsome gangrel suld mak' sae
free wi' Ba'weary manse; an' he ran the harder, an', wet shoon, ower the
burn, an' up the walk; but the deil a black man was there to se