blamin' him, for it 's a fine ploy an' rael interestin' tae the pairish, but it's doonricht wark wi' Burnbrae.

"A 've kent him since he wes a laddie, and a tell ye there's nae dukery-packery (trickery) aboot Burnbrae; he's a straicht man an' a gude neebur. He 'ill be settlin' wi' the new factor this week, a' wes hearin'."

Next Sabbath the kirkyard was thrown into a state approaching excitement by Jamie Soutar, who, in the course of some remarks on the prospects of harvest, casually mentioned that Burnbrae had been refused his lease, and would be leaving Drumtochty at Martinmas.

"What for?" said Drumsheugh sharply; while Hillocks, who had been offering his box to Whinnie, remained with outstretched arm.

"Naethin' that ye wud expeck, but juist some bit differ wi' the new factor aboot leavin' his kirk an' jining the lave o' us in the Auld Kirk. Noo, if it hed been ower a cattle reed ye cud hae understude it, but for a man——"

"Nae mair o' yir havers, Jamie," broke in Drumsheugh, "and keep yir tongue aff Burnbrae; man, ye gied me a fricht."

"Weel, weel, ye dinna believe me, but it wes the gude wife hersel' that said it tae me, and she wes terrible cast doon. They 've been a' their merried life in the place, an' weemen tak ill wi' changes when they're gettin' up in years."

"A' canna believe it, Jamie"—although Drumsheugh was plainly alarmed; "a 'll grant ye that the new factor is little better than a waufie, an' a peetifu' dooncome frae Maister Leslie, but he daurna meddle wi' a man's releegion.

"Bigger men than the factors tried that trade in the auld days, and they didna come oot verra weel. Eh, Jamie, ye ken thae stories better than ony o' us."

"Some o' them cam oot withoot their heads," said Jamie, with marked satisfaction.

"Forby that," continued Drumsheugh, gaining conviction. "What dis the wratch ken aither aboot the Auld Kirk or Free Kirk? if he didna ask me laist month hoo mony P. and O.'s we hed in the glen, meanin' U.P.'s, a'm jidgin'.

"He's an Esculopian (Episcopalian) himsel', if he gaes onywhere, an' it wud be a scannal for the like o' him tae mention the word kirk tae Burnbrae."

"Ye never ken what a factor 'ill dae," answered Jamie, whose prejudices were invincible, "but the chances are that it 'ill be mischief, setting the tenant against the landlord and the landlord against the tenant; tyrannising ower the ane till he daurna lift his head, an' pushioning the mind o' the ither till he disna ken a true man when he sees him."

"Preserve 's!" exclaimed Hillocks, amazed at Jamie's eloquence, for the wrong of Burnbrae had roused our cynic to genuine passion, and his little affectations had melted in the white heat.

"What richt hes ony man to hand ower the families that hev been on his estate afore he wes born tae be harried an' insulted by some domineering upstart of a factor, an' then tae spend the money wrung frae the land by honest fouks amang strangers and foreigners?

"What ails the landlords that they wunna live amang their ain people and oversee their ain affairs, so that laird and farmer can mak their bargain wi' nae time-serving interloper atween, an' the puirest cottar on an estate hae the richt tae see the man on whose lands he lives, as did his fathers before him?

"A'm no sayin' a word, mind ye, against Maister Leslie, wha's dead and gaen, or ony factor like him; he aye made the maist he cud for his lordship, an' that wes what he wes paid for; but he wes a fair-dealin' and gude-hearted man, an' he 'ill be sairly missed an' murned afore we 're dune wi' his successor.

"Gin ony man hes sae muckle land that he disna know the fouk that sow an' reap it, then a'm judgin' that he hes ower muckle for the gude o' the commonwealth; an' gin ony landlord needs help, let him get some man o' oor ain flesh an' bluid tae guide his affairs.

"But div ye ken, neeburs, what his lordship hes dune, and what sort o' man he's set ower us, tae meddle wi' affairs he kens naethin' aboot, an' tae trample on the conscience o' the best man in the Glen? Hae ye heard the history o' oor new ruler?"

Drumtochty was in no mood to interrupt Jamie, who was full of power that day.

"A 'll tell ye, then, what a've got frae a sure hand, an' it's the story o' mony a factor that is hauding the stick ower the heids o' freeborn Scottish men.

"He's the cousin of an English lord, whose forbears got a title by rouping their votes, an' ony conscience they hed, tae the highest bidder in the bad auld days o' the Georges—that's the kind o' bluid that 's in his veins, an' it 's no clean.

"His fouk started him in the airmy, but he hed tae leave—cairds or drink, or baith. He wes a wine-merchant for a whilie an' failed, and then he wes agent for a manure company, till they sent him aboot his business.

"Aifterwards he sorned on his freends and gambled at the races, till his cousin got roond Lord Kilspindie, and noo he 's left wi' the poor o' life an' death ower fower pairishes while his lordship's awa' traivellin' for his health in the East.

"It may be that he hes little releegion, as Drumsheugh says, an' we a' ken he hes nae intelligence, but he hes plenty o' deevilry, an' he 's made a beginnin' wi' persecutin' Burnbrae.

"A'm an Auld Kirk man," concluded Jamie, "an' an Auld Kirk man a 'll dee unless some misleared body tries tae drive me, an' then a' wud jine the Free Kirk. Burnbrae is the stiffest Free Kirker in Drumtochty, an' mony an argument a've hed wi' him, but that maks nae maitter the day.

"Ilka man hes a richt tae his ain thochts, an' is bund tae obey his conscience accordin' tae his lichts, an' gin the best man that ever lived is tae dictate oor releegion tae us, then oor fathers focht an' deed in vain."

Scottish reserve conceals a rich vein of heroic sentiment, and this unexpected outburst of Jamie Soutar had an amazing effect on the fathers, changing the fashion of their countenances and making them appear as new men. When he began, they were a group of working farmers, of slouching gait and hesitating speech and sordid habits, quickened for the moment by curiosity to get a bit of parish news fresh from Jamie's sarcastic tongue; as Jamie's fierce indignation rose to flame, a "dour" look came into their faces, turning their eyes into steel, and tightening their lips like a vice, and before he had finished every man stood straight at his full height, with his shoulders set back and his head erect, while Drumsheugh looked as if he saw an army in battle array, and even Whinnie grasped his snuff-box in a closed fist as if it had been a drawn sword. It was the danger signal of Scottish men, and ancient persecutors who gave no heed to it in the past went crashing to their doom.

"Div ye mean tae say, James Soutar," said Drumsheugh in another voice than his wont, quieter and sterner, "ye ken this thing for certain, that the new factor hes offered Burnbrae the choice atween his kirk an' his fairm?"

"That is sae, Drumsheugh, as a 'm stannin' in this kirkyaird—although Burnbrae himsel', honest man, hes said naething as yet—an' a' thocht the suner the pairish kent the better."

"Ye did weel, Jamie, an' a' tak back what a' said aboot jokin'; this 'ill be nae jokin' maitter aither for the factor or Drumtochty."

There was silence for a full minute, for Whinnie himself knew that it was a crisis in Drumtochty, and the fathers waited for Drumsheugh to speak.

People admired him for his sharpness in bargaining, and laughed at a time about his meanness in money affairs, but they knew that there was a stiff backbone in Drumsheugh, and that in any straits of principle he would play the man.

"This is a black beesiness, neeburs, an' nae man among us can see the end o't, for gin they begin by tryin' tae harry the Frees intae the Auld Kirk, the next thing they 'ill dae wull be tae drive us a' doon tae the English Chaipel at Kildrummie."

"There's juist ae mind, a' tak' it, wi' richt-thinkin' men," and Drumsheugh's glance settled on Hillocks, whose