Then Geordie Nickle straightened himself and turned towards Dr. Fletcher. "Moderator," he said earnestly, "we canna mak the way mair open nor the Maister made it; an' I move that these twa be received intil full communion, an' their names—the Clerk kens what they are—be added to the roll o' communicants in good standin' i' the kirk."
This was carried without further protest and ordered to be done forthwith.
IX
A BELATED ENQUIRER
The youthful candidates had hardly left the room when the beadle, compared with whose solemnity the gravity of the elders was frivolity itself, announced that a further candidate was in waiting.
"It's Mr. Borland," he said in an awed whisper—"Mr. David Borland. He wants to jine, Mr. Moderator," the beadle informed the court in much the same tone as is employed when death-warrants must be read. "An' it'll be on profession," he added, unable to forego the sensational announcement, "for he never jined no church afore." Then the beadle retreated with the mien that becomes an ecclesiastical sheriff.
An instant later he reappeared with Mr. Borland, whom he left standing in the very centre of the room. The elders gazed wonderingly at the unexpected man.
"Dinna break oot again," Robert McCaig whispered to the now tranquil Willie, fearful of another explosion; "it's no' often a kirk session has sic a duty to perform," and Willie responded by rising slightly and sitting down hard upon the contents of his coat-tail pocket, as though the fuse for the explosion were secreted there.
David looked round upon the elders, in no wise abashed; he even nodded familiarly to two or three with whom he was more intimately acquainted. "It's a fine evening," he informed one nearest him, to the evident amazement of his brethren.
The usual process began, one or two undertaking preliminary examination.