Yet he did not like to say so; there was something in the dominie's face which restrained him.

He had opened the subject in that blustering way which always hides the white feather somewhere beneath it, and Tallisker had answered with a solemn severity, "Crawford, it seems to be your wark to mak money; it is mine to save souls.

Our roads are sae far apart we arena likely to run against each other, if we dinna try to." "But I don't like the way you are doing your wark; that is all, dominie." "Mammon never did like God's ways.

There is a vera old disagreement between them.

A man has a right to consider his ain welfare, Crawford, but it shouldna be mair than the twa tables o' the law to him." Now Tallisker was one of those ministers who bear their great commission in their faces.