'Right!' cried the other, his spirits visibly rising. 'I've got a cheque-book on me, an' I'll write it out for ye this instant moment.'
The Minister took the cheque silently, dried it carefully on his blotting-pad, then tucked it safely away in his Bible.
'An' noo,' he said to his penitent, 'noo I'll set ye awa for the inn.'
'Ye'll never be for turning me out into the darkness again?' wailed Elliot, his face paling perceptibly.
'I'll gang wi' ye,' replied the Minister, 'I'll guide ye; and wi' this,' he took up his heavy 'crook,' 'I'll fettle "Auld Hornie."'
'I don't care about the wager,' continued the other, desirous of putting off the evil moment; 'here's the sovereign—for yourself or the old shepherd.'
Serious as before, the Minister took the sovereign and laid it on the Bible as he said:
'If ye dinna gang back to the inn the landlord an' his lassies will be up a' nicht seekin' ye, an' ye'll be the talk o' the hail countryside.'
His visitor sighed heavily and looked wistfully at the whisky bottle, but the Minister was adamant. 'No' anither sup till the windie's in,' he thought to himself.
'Well, Minister,' said his guest with resignation, as he rose slowly up from his chair, 'I'll go back, but keep a close tongue, ye ken.'