"This is a lovely spot," said the young man, feeling soothed and rested. Duncan Polite's face beamed; he did not answer, from sheer joy, but waited in silence for such words of wisdom as his pastor might be pleased to utter. John Egerton talked easily when his company was pleasant, and he was soon chatting away upon such topics as he considered congenial to the old farmer—the crops, the prospects for the haying, the mill in the valley, the amount of lumber sawn and the money realised.
And all the time Duncan Polite's whole soul was waiting for his guest to speak of the one great subject, the subject that would make it possible for him to tell this young disciple of his Master that all his hope for Glenoro and Donald lay in him. But the minister continued his friendly chat upon indifferent topics, until it was interrupted by a noise upon the road above, a sound of loud talking and louder laughter drawing near. He paused to listen and involuntarily the faces of both men broke into smiles in reflection of the mirth which was apparently convulsing those who approached.
"Ah, those foolish lads, hoots, toots, what a noise!" said Duncan apologetically, for he recognised Donald's voice and Sandy's, too, in the uproarious shouts of laughter.
But as they came nearer the smile faded from John Egerton's face. He caught the word Catchach, and suddenly the whole truth flashed upon him. Wee Andra had witnessed the meeting of that afternoon and was giving to the Neil boys what they apparently considered a side-splitting description of the affair. All his ministerial dignity rose to meet the insult.
Sandy's voice could be heard distinctly above the others, interspersed with convulsive haw haws.
"Great snakes! You did it that time, Don! Bet it scared next Sunday's sermon clean out o' his head!"
Then Wee Andra's deep voice, "Jimminy! It was a better show than all the monkeys at the circus!"
"Was he scared?" It was Donald Neil who dared to ask that question.
"Looked mighty skittish for a minit, but I was weepin' that hard I couldn't see very good. Catchach swore like a trooper. I could tell that by the way he was grinnin', but the fearful pity was neither me nor his Reverence could understand it!"
They went off again with such utter abandon that Duncan feared the minister might be shocked by such uproarious behaviour on the public road. He did not at all comprehend the meaning of their conversation himself, in fact he scarcely listened to it, so eagerly was he watching for Donald.