"A' gaed up tae the Manse last nicht," concluded Drumsheugh, "and telt the minister hoo the doctor focht aucht oors for Saunders' life, an' won, and ye never saw a man sae carried. He walkit up and doon the room a' the time, and every other meenut he blew his nose like a trumpet.
"'I've a cold in my head to-night, Drumsheugh,' says he; 'never mind me.'"
"A've hed the same masel in sic circumstances; they come on sudden," said Jamie.
"A' wager there 'ill be a new bit in the laist prayer the day, an' somethin' worth hearin'."
And the fathers went into kirk in great expectation.
"We beseech Thee for such as be sick, that Thy hand may be on them for good, and that Thou wouldst restore them again to health and strength," was the familiar petition of every Sabbath.
The congregation waited in a silence that might be heard, and were not disappointed that morning, for the minister continued:
"Especially we tender Thee hearty thanks that Thou didst spare Thy servant who was brought down into the dust of death, and hast given him back to his wife and children, and unto that end didst wonderfully bless the skill of him who goes out and in amongst us, the beloved physician of this parish and adjacent districts."
"Didna a' tell ye, neeburs?" said Jamie, as they stood at the kirkyard gate before dispersing; "there's no a man in the coonty cud hae dune it better. 'Beloved physician,' an' his 'skill,' tae, an' bringing in 'adjacent districts'; that's Glen Urtach; it wes handsome, and the doctor earned it, ay, every word.
"It's an awfu' peety he didna hear yon; but dear knows whar he is the day, maist likely up—"