"See here, Hepburn," said the laird; "is that old man, your father-in-law, still under your roof-tree?"
"He is, Sir Thomas," answered Adam, in the same quiet tone.
"You know the wording of the Act which commands that the ejected ministers shall remove themselves without the bounds of the Presbytery? Rowallan is not without these bounds. I have it in my power to have your father-in-law punished, imprisoned if I like, by simply letting my friend the bishop know how his commands are disobeyed."
A dark red flush rose to Adam Hepburn's brow, and he bit his lip. The hot blood of his race sprang up at the laird's threatening and mocking words.
"And you would make betrayal of the old man the price of my non-attendance at the curate's preaching, Sir Thomas," he said with curling lip. "Such a threat is scarcely worthy of your name. I fear that such measures will not avail with the God-fearing people in the parish."
"You defy me then, sirrah; then be prepared to take the consequences," said the laird furiously, and digging his spurs into his horse's sides, turned the animal's head, and rode away full gallop to Hartrigge, only to have his ire additionally kindled there by the cool defiance and dogged determination of Andrew Gray.
CHAPTER IX.
PREPARING FOR EMERGENCIES.
When the laird rode away, Adam Hepburn turned and walked slowly back to Rowallan. He was somewhat disturbed by what he had heard, not on his own account, but on that of the venerable father of his beloved Agnes. When he entered the room where the minister sat with his daughter Jane, Mrs. Hepburn being busy with her household work, both saw that he was troubled about something.
"Have you heard aught about the preaching yesterday, Adam, that you look so grave?" queried the minister.