CHAPTER XXIX
THE MINISTER PURE AND PEACEABLE
As the minister walked along the street, with the old umbrella, his inseparable companion in all kinds of weather, wet or dry, under his arm, and with his head rather bent as if in thought, he was met by Mrs. Craigie, who suddenly darted out--for she had been watching his coming--from the "close" in which she lived, and curtsied humbly before him.
"Beg pardon, sir," she said, "it's a fine day--I houp ye're weel. Ye'll excuse me, sir."
"What is it? what is it?" asked Mr. Porteous, in rather a sharp tone of voice, disliking the interruption at such a time from such a person.
"Weel," she said, cracking her fingers as if in a puzzle, "I just thocht if my dear wee Mary was in ony danger frae the fivver at the Sergeant's, I wad be willint--oo ay, real willint--for freendship's sake, ye ken, tae tak' her back tae mysel'."
"Very possibly you would," replied Mr. Porteous, drily; "but my decided opinion at present is, that in all probability she won't need your kindness."
"Thank ye, sir," said the meek Craigie, whose expression need not be analysed as she looked after Mr. Porteous, passing on with his usual step to Mr. Smellie's shop.
No sooner had he entered the "mercantile establishment" of this distinguished draper, than with a nod he asked its worthy master to follow him up to the sanctum. The boy was charged to let no one interrupt them.
When both were seated in the confidential retreat,--the scene of many a small parish plot and plan,--Mr. Porteous said, "I have just come from visiting our friend, Adam Mercer."