interested and horrified, as any faithful spouse might be, at the depravity of the guidwife of Cairnieford. She took Miss M'Claver into the back-shop, and there, assisted by something pleasant to the palates of both ladies, they speculated over the story until they had embellished it with so many of their own surmises as facts, that it turned out of the back-shop very similar to one of Mrs. Gabbock's sausages-containing a great deal of spice to very little meat.

It spread amongst the good-wives of the Port with the marvellous rapidity of all scandal; and, of course, as it spread it gathered fresh colours, so that by morning it had become huge in proportion and as unlike the reality as possible.

By that time it had reached the ears of the minister, and he, knowing enough of the truth to be able to contradict on the spot the general opinion that Jeanie was the most wicked of women, but anxious to learn really how matters stood, and to use his influence as peacemaker, hastened to Cairnieford.

It will be remembered that on the morning succeeding the night Falcon had slept at the manse, when Mr. Monduff discovered the absence of his guest, he had gone out to seek him. His search had led him up the glen, and he had seen Jeanie. She had acquainted him with the resolution come to by Falcon and herself, which he had heartily commended, and there he thought and hoped the affair had ended.

His visit now was most welcome to Jeanie on her mother's account, for nobody possessed more soothing influence over the poor bedstricken woman than the genial minister. Before proceeding to her, however, he inquired what ground there was for the absurd report he had heard.

Jeanie's face crimsoned and then became pallid; the scandal was already out, and the shafts of scorn were already winging toward her. Her weakness endured only for an instant; then she told him all.

"Hoots, guidwife, here's a fine hurley-burley about nothing at all," he said, affecting to treat the matter lightly. "Robin will come to reason when I see him, for I can bear testimony to part of your explanation, and I'm ready to pledge myself

that the rest is as true. Pooh, this is but a bit stubborn anger on his part, and, I'll warrant, if you could only see him this minute he's as vexed with himself about it as you can be."

"Ye needna heed, sir, to say onything to him on my account. I would rather he was left to see things for himself now; for I couldna accept grace when I hae done naething wrang. Though I did hide frae him that Jeamie had come hame, it was through kindness to him."

The minister saw that there was to be stubborn work on both sides; but he did not despair of bringing affairs to a speedy and happy settlement as soon as he could find the guidman. The whole thing appeared so simple to him that he had some difficulty in comprehending how it had grown to such unpleasant proportions-so hard is it for one who has never known the pangs of jealousy to realize its power, which, like a whirlwind of fire, sweeps away reason and love, leaving the heart charred and blackened in its wrath to taint every thought that reaches it.

Mr. Monduff could not feel this, and would have pooh-poohed the idea if anybody had expressed it to him; consequently, he was sanguine of the result of the task which both duty and inclination to serve Mr. and Mrs. Gray thrust upon him.

In spite of Jeanie's grave assurance that the misunderstanding could not be soldered, he was in good spirits when he entered the invalid's chamber. He remained with Mrs. Lindsay an hour, and would have stayed longer only he was eager to start in pursuit of Robin. He left her, however, more soothed by his cheery conversation than she had been by the doctor's drugs.

He was standing at the front door with Jeanie, and was just about to set out to Boghaugh when they saw the lad who had given Robin the information about the gig, and whose name was Willie Boyd, running up the loaning with breathless speed. As he passed round the corner of the house to enter at the back door, the minister noticed that the boy's face had the scared expression of one who has looked on some horrible sight.

The door of the kitchen was just behind Mr. Monduff and Jeanie, and as it was partially open they presently heard the boy exclaim, pantingly

"Tam Mackie sent me for ane o' the haps that he brocht up to dry."

"They're hanging ower the chair there, but they're no dry yet," answered the lass whom the boy had addressed. “What does he want it for-od's sake, and what's the matter wi' the laddie ?"

66

Eh, it was awfu '." "What was awfu' ?" "What I saw."

"What was't-can ye no speak ?

"I wasna to say onything about it. I maun rin awa' back wi' the hap."

The announcement that he was to say nothing about what he had seen, as might be expected, quickened the woman's curiosity.

"Ye'll no get the hap unless ye tell me what it was ye

saw."

The lad apparently hesitated, for there was a pause. Then he said, lowering his voice

They hae found a man drooned in the burn and a' smashed to bits, and they say it's Jeamie Falcon. Noo gie me the hap and let me awa'."

Jeanie and Mr. Monduff heard every word. She with a smothered cry of fright, and startled eyes, clasped her hands tightly on her breast, as if to subdue its convulsive agitation, and staggered back.

The minister saved her from falling, but for the moment he was too much horrified himself to find speech.

"See if it's true-see if it's him," she gasped, and starting away from him she ran into her bedroom, closed and locked the door that none might look upon her agony, the source of which was not sorrow for the dead but terror for the fate of the living.

CHAPTER XXXI.

WHAT WAS FOUND IN THE BURN.

"She sought him up, she sought him down,
She sought the braid and narrow;

Syne, in the cleaving o' a craig,

She found him drooned in Yarrow."-Old Ballad.

THE minister was alike confounded by what he had heard and by Jeanie's singular conduct. He was recalled to himself by seeing Willie Boyd running away with a coarse horse-rug rolled in a bundle on his shoulder.

He shouted to him. The boy looked back, and immediately halted when he saw who had called him. In answer to Mr. Monduff's inquiries, he repeated his statement, with a few details which increased the minister's horror. He told the lad to run on with the rug and he would follow. Even without Jeanie's request that he would see whether or not the boy's information was correct, he would have been anxious to satisfy himself as to the identity of the drowned man.

"It's sad to think," he exclaimed, "that the poor fellow, after passing safely through all the perils of fire and tempest and sea, should have come hame to perish in this miserable fashion."

And, at his best speed, he continued his way to the spot which the boy--who was already almost out of sight-had described to him.

Young Dunbar had said nothing to his folks at home of his suspicion that there was a man lying drowned in the burn at the cleft rock, chiefly because his companions had laughed at the idea, and partly because Robin Gray was in the house that night.

He had proposed starting early in the morning to satisfy himself on the subject, but had found no opportunity of getting away until the dinner-hour at noon. Then he had walked over to Cairnieford, and in spite of their incredulity, the grieve, Mackie, and the two men who had been with them on the previous night, accompanied him to the place. Willie, with

boyish curiosity to know what they were going to do, had followed them.

On arriving at the place, they found the rope secured by the stone as they had left it. Dunbar was the first to advance to the ledge. He dropped on his knees and leaned over. The water in the burn had subsided almost within the limits of its ordinary winter channel. The red sun was shining overhead, but the cleft rock was dark, slimy, and dismal.

The men were still bantering him as to the probability of his finding a blind sow or an old ewe, or maybe a bundle of straw. But the banter was hushed, and their broad grins changed to stupified stares, when Dunbar raised his head and looked round with a white scared face.

"It's a man," he said in a low voice. "I see his hand sticking out frae aneath the rock.”

None of them moved; and Dunbar remained on his knees wiping the cold perspiration from his brow with his cuffs; feeling an almost unconquerable repugnance to look down again to where the Thing lay.

"We'd better try to get him out," said Mackie, the first to recover the use of his tongue, but speaking in a whisper, as they all did afterward, as if they were afraid to wake the dead. Dunbar glanced shudderingly over his shoulder.

"Aye, but how ? "

"Ane o' us will hae to gae down and tether the rope round him."

But who was to go? None of them seemed to have courage enough to venture down into the black hole to drag up a dead man; and so each looked at the other expecting him to volunteer. Then Mackie and the two men behind him turned their eyes on Dunbar, as if agreed amongst themselves that as he had brought about the discovery he was the proper person to complete the work.

Apparently comprehending them, although no word had been spoken, Dunbar rose silently, threw off his coat and placed the end of the rope in the hands of his comrade.

"Keep a ticht haud," he said.