I will lay the
strong holds of sin and Satan as flat before my face as the dung
that is spread out to fatten the land."
"Master, there's a gentleman at the fore-door wants a private.
word o' ye."
"Tell him I'm engaged: I can't see any gentleman to-night. But I
shall attend on him to-morrow as soon as he pleases."
"'He's coming straight in, Sir. Stop a wee bit, Sir, my master is
engaged. He cannot see you at present, Sir."
"Stand aside, thou Moabite! My mission admits of no delay. I
come to save him from the jaws of destruction!"
"An that be the case, Sir, it maks a wide difference; an', as the
danger may threaten us a', I fancy I may as weel let ye gang by as
fight wi' ye, sin' ye seem sae intent on 't.--The man says he's
comin' to save ye, an' canna stop, Sir. Here he is."
The laird was going to break out into a volley of wrath against
Waters, his servant; but, before he got a word pronounced, the
Rev. Mr. Wringhim had stepped inside the room, and Waters had
retired, shutting the door behind him.
No introduction could be more mal-a-propos: it was impossible;
for at that very moment the laird and Arabella Logan were both
sitting on one seat, and both looking on one book, when the door
opened.
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