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XI. The Minister Girds up his Loins

           Iaskyou,EphraimCaird,asyouwillanswertoyourGod,wherewereyouinthemirkofthatnight?"

           Theheavyface,nowbrick-redwithsummersuns,didnotchange.

           "WheresuldIbebutinmybed?Igaedtill’tearly,forIhadalangdaywi’thehog-lambs."

           "Youknowthatthatisalie.YouwereintheWood,asyouwereintheWoodatBeltane,dancingawayyourmiserablesoultotheDevil’spiping.WithmyowneyesIsawyou."

           TheastonishmentofChasehopewasadmirablysimulated.

           "Areyedaft,sir?Areyeganecleangyte?Ye’renoweel,Mr.Sempill.Sityedoun,andI’llfetchyousomewaterinmybonnet.Ye’vegotablaffo’thesun."

           "IamnotmadnoramIsick.Ihavepreachedthroughoutthesummeratthesin,andthetimehasnowcometogettogripswiththesinner.Thisisyourlastchance,EphraimCaird.Willyouconfesstome,whohavebeensetinspiritualauthorityoveryou,ormustconfessionbewrungfromyoubyothermeans?"

           ItwasawarningwhichDavidfeltboundtogive,buthewassilentastotherestofhispurpose,forhehaddecidedthatthetimehadnotyetcometoshowhishand.HelookedsternlyatChasehope,andunderhisgazetheman’sfaceseemedtowhiten,andhisoddgreenisheyestowaver.Butitmightbeininnocentamazement.

           "Ikennawhatyespeako’,"hestammered."WhatconcernhaveIwi’theWud?Askthewife,andshe’lltellyouthatIsleepittheLammasnichtinmybed.Butoh--thethingfaircoupsthecrans!...andmeanelderthaetenyear!Ye’renoweel,orye’redementit,tospeaksicwordstoamanlikeme.

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