been kept by night on every road that leads to Thrums. The signal
that the soldiers are coining is to be the blowing of a horn. If
you ever hear that horn, I implore you to hasten to the square."

"The weavers would not fight?"

"You do not know how the Chartists have fired this part of the
country. One misty day, a week ago, I was on the hill; I thought I
had it to myself, when suddenly I heard a voice cry sharply,
'Shoulder arms.' I could see no one, and after a moment I put it
down to a freak of the wind. Then all at once the mist before me
blackened, and a body of men seemed to grow out of it. They were
not shadows; they were Thrums weavers drilling, with pikes in
their hands.

"They broke up," Mr. Carfrae continued, after a pause, "at my
entreaty, but they have met again since then."

"And there were Auld Lichts among them?" Gavin asked. "I should
have thought they would be frightened at our precentor, Lang
Tammas, who seems to watch for backsliding in the congregation as
if he had pleasure in discovering it."

Gavin spoke with feeling, for the precentor had already put him
through his catechism, and it was a stiff ordeal.

"The precentor!" said Mr. Carfrae. "Why, he was one of them."

The old minister, once so brave a figure, tottered as he rose to
go, and reeled in a dizziness until he had walked a few paces.