Well, it was a sufficiently earnest prayer, and it was listened to with profound attention by the smart-looking lasses and tall and swarthy gillies clustering about the door; but to the English part of his audience its chief features were its curiously exhortatory and argumentative character and also its interminable length.  As the minister went on and on, the frown of impatience on Lord Fareborough’s face deepened and deepened; he fretted and fumed and fidgeted; but, of course, he could not bring disgrace on his son-in-law’s house by rising and leaving the room.  Nor did it convey much consolation to the sportsmen to hear the heavy tramp of the head keeper just outside the windows; for they knew that Roderick must be making use of the most frightful language over this unheard-of delay.

But at last this tremendous oration—­for it was far more of an oration than a prayer—­came to an end; and the congregation drew a long breath and were about to seize their newly found liberty when the minister quietly remarked: 

“We will now sing the Hundred and Twenty-First Psalm.”

“God bless my soul!” exclaimed Lord Fareborough, aloud; and Lady Adela flushed quickly; for it was not seemly of her father to give way to such anger before those keen-eyed and keen-eared Highland servants.

However, the Rev. Mr. MacNachten took no heed.  He began to sing, in a slow and raucous fashion, and to the melancholy tune of “Ballerma,”

   “’I to the hills will lift mine eyes,
     From whence doth come mine aid;’”

and presently there came from the door a curious nasal wail, men and women singing in unison, and seemingly afraid to trust their voices.  As for the people in the room no one tried to join in this part of the service—­no one except Honnor Cunyngham, who appeared to know the words of the Psalm and the music equally well, for she accompanied the minister throughout, singing boldly and simply and without shyness, her clear voice making marked contrast with his raven notes.  Nor was this all; for, when the Psalm was finished, the minister said,

“My friends, when it hath pleased the Lord that we should meet together, we should commune one with another, to the perfecting of ourselves for that greater assemblage to which I hope we are all bound.”  And then, without further preface, he proceeded to exhort them to well-doing in all the duties of life—­as masters and mistresses, as servants, as parents, as children, as brothers, as fellow-Christians; while at the end of each rambling and emphatic passage there came in a verse from Ecclesiastes:  “Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:  Fear God, and keep his commandments:  for this is the whole duty of man.”