"Yes," shouted McNish, springing to his feet, "there is hope. There is
hope even in Blackwater."

"Tut, tut, laddie," said his mother. "Dinna deeve us. What has come ower
ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man? Noo, Mr. Matheson, ye've
had enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a cup of tea."

"Thank you, Mrs. McNish," said the minister gravely, "but I cannot
linger. I have still work to do to-night." He rose from his chair and
found his coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his
disappointment with the evening's conversation.

"Dinna fash yerself, minister," said the old lady, helping him on with
his coat. "The 'trouble' will blow ower, a doot. It'll a' come oot
richt."

"Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house to-night," said
the minister solemnly, "gives me little hope that it will all come
right, but rather gives me grave concern." Then, looking straight into
the eyes of her son, he added: "I came here expecting to find help and
guidance in discovering a reasonable way out of a very grave and serious
difficulty. I confess I have been disappointed."

"Mr. Matheson," said McNish, "I am always glad to discuss any matter
with you in a reasonable and kindly way."

"I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish," said
Maitland. "I am sorry I came tonight. I did come earnestly desiring and
hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have made a mistake."

"You came at my request, Maitland," said the minister. "If a mistake has
been made, it is mine. Good-night, Mrs. McNish. Good-night, Malcolm.
I don't pretend to know or understand what is in your heart, but I am
going to say to you as your minister that where there is evil passion
there can be no clear thinking. And further, let me say that upon you
will devolve a heavy responsibility for the guidance you give these
men. Good-night again. Remember that One whom we both acknowledge as
the source of all true light said: 'If the light that is in thee be
darkness, how great is that darkness.'" He shook hands first with
the mother, then with the son, who turned away from him with a curt
"Good-night" and nodded to Maitland.

For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both grievously
disappointed in the interview.

"I never saw him like that," said the Reverend Murdo at length. "What
can be the matter with him? With him passion is darkening counsel."

"Well," said Maitland, "I have found out one