For a day or two previous to the conversation of the brothers about Alec’s decision, Alec had been debating in his own mind what, after all, that decision had better be.  Never had he come so near doubting the principle to which he adhered as at this time.  A few days went a long way in Chellaston towards making a stranger, especially if he was a young man with good introduction, feel at home there, and the open friendliness of Chellaston society, acting like the sun in AEsop’s fable, had almost made this traveller take off his coat.  Had Robert been a person who had formerly agreed with him, it is probable that when the subject was opened, he would have confessed the dubious condition of his heart, and they would together have very carefully considered the advisability of change of plan.  Whether the upshot in that case would have been different or not, it is impossible to say, for Robert had not formerly agreed with him, and could not now be assumed to do so, and therefore for Alec, as a part of militant humanity, there was no resource but to stand to his guns, forgetting for the time the weakness in his own camp, because he had no thought of betraying it to the enemy.  He who considers such incidents (they are the common sands of life), and yet looks upon the natural heart of man as a very noble thing, would appear to be an optimist.

However that may be, the conversation ended, Alec’s heart stood no longer in the doubtful attitude.  There are those who look upon confessions and vows as of little importance; but even in the lower affairs of life, when a healthy man has said out what he means, he commonly means it more intensely.  When Alec Trenholme had told his brother that he still intended to be a butcher, the thing for him was practically done, and that, not because he would have been ashamed to retract, but because he had no further wish to retract.

“And the mair fules ye are baith,” said Bates, having recourse to broad Scotch to express his indignation when told what had passed.

It was out of good nature that Alec had told the one invalid what had been going on in the other’s room, but Bates was only very much annoyed.

“I thought,” said he, “that ye’d got that bee out of yer ain bonnet, but ye’re baith of ye daft now.”

“Come now, Bates; you wouldn’t dare to say that to my ’brother, the clergyman.’”

“I know more what’s due than to call a minister a fule to his face, but whiles it’s necessary to say it behind his back.”

“Now I call him a hero, after what he’s said to-day.”

Alec was enjoying the humour of poking up the giant of conventionality.

“Hoots, man; it’s yourself ye regard as a hero!  Set yerself up as a Juggernaut on a car and crush him under the wheels!”

“Oh, I’m going to British Columbia.  I won’t take him at his word; but I’m pleased he had pluck enough to think of taking the bull by the horns.”

“But I’m thinking ye just will take him at his word, for it’s the easiest—­standing there, patting him on the back, because he’s given up to you!”