With the thought John opened his eyes, and David nodded and smiled back to him. How alert and gladly he roused himself! How cheerily he said,
"Why, Davie, I hae been sleeping, I doot. Hech, but it is gude to see you, lad."
"Please God, uncle, it shall always be gude to see me. Can you give me some advice to-night?" "I'll be mair than glad to do it."
"Tell me frankly, Uncle John, what you think I ought to do. I saw Robert off to America to-night. Shall I follow him?"
"Davie, mind what I say. In the vera place where a man loses what he values, there he should look to find it again. You hae lost your good name in Glasgow; stay in Glasgow and find it again."
"I will stay here then. What shall I do?"
"You'll go back to your old place, and to your old business."
"But I heard that Deacon Strang had bought the looms and the lease."
"He bought them for me, for us, I mean. I will tell you how that came about. One day when I was cross, and sair put out wi' your affairs, Davie, Dr. Morrison came into my office. I'm feared I wasna glad to see him; and though I was ceevil enough, the wise man read me like a book. 'John,' says he, 'I am not come to ask you for siller to-day, nor am I come to reprove you for staying awa from the service o' God twice lately. I am come to tell you that you will hae the grandest opportunity to-day, to be, not only a man, but a Christ-man. If you let the opportunity slip by you, I shall feel sairly troubled about it.'
"Then he was gone before I could say, 'What is it?' and I wondered and wondered all day what he could hae meant. But just before I was ready to say, 'Mr. MacFarlane, lock the safe,' in walks Deacon Strang. He looked vera downcast and shamefaced, and says he, 'Callendar, you can tak your revenge on me to-morrow, for a' I hae said and done against you for thirty years. You hold twa notes o' mine, and I canna meet them. You'll hae to protest and post them to-morrow, and that will ruin me and break my heart.'