"Thomas Crann, will you engage in prayer," said Mr Turnbull.
"Na, nae the nicht," answered Thomas. "I'm like ane under the auld law that had been buryin' the deid. I hae been doin' necessar' but foul wark, and I'm defiled in consequence. I'm no in a richt speerit to pray in public. I maun awa' hame to my prayers. I houp I mayna do something mysel' afore lang that'll mak' it necessar' for ye to dismiss me neist. But gin that time sud come, spare not, I beseech ye."
So, after a short prayer from Mr Turnbull, the meeting separated in a state of considerable excitement. Thomas half expected to hear of an action for libel, but Robert knew better than venture upon that. Besides, no damages could be got out of Thomas.
When Bruce was once outside the chapel, he assumed the erect posture to which his claim was entirely one of species, and went home by circuitous ways. He found the shop still open, attended by his wife.
"Preserve's, Robert! what's come ower ye?" she exclaimed.
"I had sic a sair heid (headache), I was forced to come oot afore a' was dune," he answered. "I dinna think I'll gang ony mair, for they dinna conduc' things a'thegither to my likin'. I winna fash mair wi' them."
His wife looked at him anxiously, perhaps with some vague suspicion of the truth; but she said nothing, and I do not believe the matter was ever alluded to between them. The only indications remaining the next day of what he had gone through that evening, consisted in an increase of suavity towards his grown customers, and of acerbity towards the children who were unfortunate enough to enter his shop.
Of the two, however, perhaps Thomas Crann was the more unhappy as he went home that night. He felt nothing of the elation which commonly springs from success in a cherished project. He had been the promoter and agent in the downfall of another man, and although the fall was a just one, and it was better too for the man to be down than standing on a false pedestal, Thomas could not help feeling the reaction of a fellow-creature's humiliation. Now that the thing was done, and the end gained, the eternal brotherhood asserted itself, and Thomas pitied Bruce and mourned over him. He must be to him henceforth as a heathen man and a publican, and he was sorry for him. "Ye see," he said to himself, "it's no like a slip or a sin; but an evil disease cleaveth fast unto him, and there's sma' chance o' him ever repentin' noo. A'thing has been dune for him that can be dune."
Yet Thomas worshipped a God, who, if the theories Thomas held were correct, could at once, by the free gift of a Holy Spirit, generate repentance in Bruce, and so make him fit for salvation; but who, Thomas believed, would not do so�-at all events, might not do so�-keeping him alive for ever in howling unbelief instead.
Scarcely any of the "members" henceforth saluted Bruce in the street. None of them traded with him, except two or three who owed him a few shillings, and could not pay him. And the modifying effect upon the week's returns was very perceptible. This was the only form in which a recognizable vengeance could have reached him. To escape from it, he had serious thoughts of leaving the place, and setting up in some remote village.