The text was in Romans 5th and 13th--
the minister a skilled hand; and the whole of that able churchful--
from Argyle, and my Lords Elchies and Kilkerran, down to the
halbertmen that came in their attendance--was sunk with gathered
brows in a profound critical attention. The minister himself and a
sprinkling of those about the door observed our entrance at the
moment and immediately forgot the same; the rest either did not
hear or would not hear or would not be heard; and I sat amongst my
friends and enemies unremarked.
The first that I singled out was Prestongrange. He sat well
forward, like an eager horseman in the saddle, his lips moving with
relish, his eyes glued on the minister; the doctrine was clearly to
his mind. Charles Stewart, on the other hand, was half asleep, and
looked harassed and pale. As for Simon Fraser, he appeared like a
blot, and almost a scandal, in the midst of that attentive
congregation, digging his hands in his pockets, shifting his legs,
clearing his throat, and rolling up his bald eyebrows and shooting
out his eyes to right and left, now with a yawn, now with a secret
smile.
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