"
The assembly had listened intently, catching its breath with a sharp
_risp_ as all outdoor folks will do when they hear of an escapade which
strikes their fancy. One man--a stranger--hammered his empty pipe-bowl
on the table in applause.
"Whae was the man, d'ye say?" he asked. "A neeger?"
Lewis laughed. "Not a nigger most certainly, though he had a brown
face."
"And ye risked your life for a black o' some kind? Man, ye must be
awfu' fond o' your fellow men. Wad ye dae the same for the likes o' us?
"Surely. For one of my own folk! But it was really a very small
thing."
"Then I have just ae thing to say," said the brown-bearded man. "I am
what ye cal a Raadical, and yestreen I recorded my vote for yon man
Stocks. He crackit a lot about the rights o' man--as man, and I was wi'
him. But I tell ye that you yoursel' have a better notion o' human
kindness than ony Stocks, and though ye're no o' my party, yet I
herewith propose a vote o' confidence in Maister Lewis Haystoun."
The health was drunk solemnly yet with gusto, and under cover of it
Lewis fled out of doors. His despondency had passed, and a fit of
fierce exhilaration had seized him. Men still swore by his name; he was
still loved by his own folk; small matter to him if a townsman had
defeated him. He was no vain talker, but a doer, a sportsman, an
adventurer.
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