"Lay down your weapons," Gavin said to the six men.

They looked at each other. Hobart slipped his pike behind his
back.

"I hae no weapon," he said slily.

"Let me hae my fling this nicht," Dow entreated, "and I'll promise
to bide sober for a twelvemonth."

"Oh, Rob, Rob!" the minister said bitterly, "are you the man I
prayed with a few hours ago?"

The scythe fell from Rob's hands.

"Down wi' your pikes," he roared to his companions, "or I'll brain
you wi' them."

"Ay, lay them down," the precentor whispered, "but keep your feet
on them."

Then the minister, who was shaking with excitement, though he did
not know it, stretched forth his arms for silence, and it came so
suddenly as to frighten the people in the neighboring streets.

"If he prays we're done for," cried young Charles Yuill. but even
in that hour many of the people were unbonneted.

"Oh, Thou who art the Lord of hosts," Gavin prayed, "we are in Thy