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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are fiimed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom as many frames ae required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds A des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6ri6ur gauche, de gauche S droite, et de haul en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ssr * KATE CARNEGIE AND THOSE MINISTERS. rrrrrr \m Printeo bv R. G. xMcLean, Toronto. ^ J)|.^iLl.Jl^ ''| ^» l ;!K ^ ^ H K B Mlj^Ml■^:Hil»^;»^yJ■!"M.,^a^!^^^4'« " l■«^i^^^1^ KATE CARNEGIE AND THOSE MINISTERS. BY IAN MACLAREN. C/:>4-e*«€. -c j_/ ' • ^ TOROXTO FLHMIXG II. Ri:\'KLL COMP.WV 140-142 \'oni,'-e Street. 1896. PR S"nM2 144S1« Entered according- to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in tlie year 1896, by Hoddkr & SxorcjUTON, at the Department of Agriculture. 4 •a. Sf^fl^iftttwilS^* TO A CKRTAIX BROTHKRIKXM) JFattl)ful in (Critirism Hoonl in ^affection QTriiDrr in (Trouble (fi 4 nmrf»"»w IWHMJI M i' »»" f » '* — Tffffy^— TW f C O N T E N T S. Chaptkr I. l'AM)i;.M(1Ml!.\[ II. Pkalk III. A IloMi: OF MANY (;i:NI:U \TI()\S . . . I\'. A SkCKKT ClIA.MIil.K V. C()\(KKNI\(; iiKSO.M.S . \'I. .\ ri.KASArxci-. . \'II. A Woman of tiif Xi;\v I)ispi:.\sati()\ VIII. A W'oMAX oi- I 111-: Oi.i) I)isim:nsai'Io\ I.\'. A DAUfiniiK OF DfiiatI': .... \. A .Sii'ka-Lai'sakiax XI. I.N Tin: (ii,oA.MiN(; XII. Kif.iioGii: Mansk XIII. I'Ki'.PAKiNfi FOR rni: Sacua.mkxt . XI\'. A MoDIvRATK . . . X\'. Joint Potfxtatfs X\I. DiUFi) RosK Leaves. .WII. SMOL'LI)FKIX(i P^IKI-S . X\'III. LovK Sickness , . XIX. The Fe \R OF (loi) Pack I 20 32 46 56 70 lOJ "7 ij.S f l()2 177 192 207 222 -3« 252 26S :ll vi CON II ;n IS. X.\. 'illK WOCN'DS (H- A FKIIiNU Wl. I. Kill r .vv 1;\i;mi!>|': . . . I'a<;k 2.S3 300 X.XII. Wniioi'T i'l.AK AM) wiiHoi'r Kii'uoArii 31^) Will. Makcjkt IIowk's Conkkssional .... 329 .\.\l\'. LovK IS Loud 3.14 pW^^ff"»^iw«^ IW!W»PHWFPf?W" liST 0I< ILLL'STRATKJXS. Pnae Carmichael had taken Ills 'ruin '• Many a I'loy \\c had t()<,'t'ther " -3 JVtL-r was standiiiir in Ins FavoiiritL- .Attitude . ... 20 '• 1 am the CJeneraFs Dau'diter" Janet .Maephenson was waif, jr in tiie Deep Doorway . 42 •• It's a Dithcult Kev to turn •' 50 K.ite in her Kavourite Position 39 One Gardener wh«fls^_tij;*';MM u'n uc ' jw ii M ' n ii f PANDEMONIUxM. )ers, baskets, which pours across the platform for yards, led by a frolicsome black leather valise, whose anxious owner has fought her adventurous way to the van for the \nn- pose of explaining to a phlegmatic Scot that he would know it by a broken strap, and must lift it out gently, for it contained breakables. " It can gang itsel, that ane," as the afflicted woman followed its reckless progress with a wail. " Sail, if they were a' as clever on their feet as yon box there wud be less tribble," and with two assistants he falls upon the congested mass within. They perform prodigies of strength, handling huge trunks that ought to have filled some woman with repentance as if they were Oladstone bags, and light weights as if they were paper parcels. \Vith unerring scent they detect the latest label among the remains of past history, and the air resounds with "Hielant train," " Aiberdeen fast," "Aiberdeen slow," "Muirtown " — this with indifference — and at a time " Dunleith," and once " Kildrummie," with much con- tempt. IJy this time stacks of baggage of varying size have been erected, the largest of which is a pyramid in shape, with a very uncertain apex. Male passengers — heads of families and new to Muir- town — hover anxiously round the outskirts, and goadetl on by female commands, rush into the heart of the fiay for the purpose of claiming a piece of luggage, which turns out to be some other person's, and retire hastily after a fair-sized portmanteau descends on their toes, and the sharp edge of a trunk takes them in the small of the back. Footmen with gloves and superior airs make gentlemanly efforts to collect the family luggage, and are rewarded by having some hopelessly vulgar tin boxes, heavily roped, deposited among its initialled glory. One nsMSBtwt ' M cif tijUmma^mititt WMrt» !i! KATE CARNEGIE. i elderly female who had been wise to choose some other day to revisit her native town, discovers her basket flung up against a pillar, like wreckage from a storm, and settles hercelf down upon it with a sigh of relief. She remains unmoved amid the turmoil, save when a passing gun-case tips her bonnet to one side, giving her a very rakish air, and a good-natured retriever on a neighbouring box is so much taken with her appearance that he offers her a friendly caress. Restless i)eoi)le — who remember that their train ought to have left half an hour ago, and cannoc realise that all bonds are loosed on the eleventh — fasten on any man in a uniform, and suffer many rebuffs. *' There 's nae use asking me," answers a guard, com- ing off duty and pushing his way through the crowd as one accustomed to such spectacles ; " a 'm juist in frae Carlisle ; get haud o' a porter." " Cupar Angus ? " — this from the porter — " that 's the Aiberdeen slow ; it 's no made up yet, and little chance o't till the express an' the Hielant be aff. Whar '11 it start frae ?" breaking away; "forrit, a' tell ye, forrit." Fathers of families, left on guard and misled by a sudden movement "forrit," rush to the waiting-room and bring out, for the third time, the whole expedition, to escort them back again with shame. Barrows with towering piles of luggage are pushed through the human mass by two porters, who allow their engine to make its own way with much confidence, condescending only at a time to shout, ** A' say, hey, oot o' there," and treating any testy complaint with the silent contempt of a dray- man for a costermonger. Old hands, who have fed at their leisure in callous indifference to all alarms, lounge about in great content, and a group of sheep farmers, ■"ry^tinawmfmrnammm PANDEMONIUM. 7 having endeavoured in vain, after one tasting, to settle the merits of a new dip, take a glance in the " Hielant " quarter, and adjourn the conference once more to the refreshment-room. Groups of sportsmen discuss the prospects of to-morrow in detail, and tell stories of ancient twelfths, while chieftains from London, in full Highland dress, are painfully conscious of the whiteness of their legs. A handful of preposterous people who persist in going sout.i when the world has its face north- wards, threaten to complain to headquarters if they are not sent away, and an official with a loud voice and a subtle gift of humour intimates that a train is about to leave for Dundee. During this time wonderful manoeuvres have been executed on the lines of rail opposite the platform. Trains have left with all the air of a departure and dis- appeared round the curve outside the station, only to return in fngments. Half a doziMi carriages pass with- out an engine, as if they had started on their own account, break vans that one saw presiding over ex- presses stand forsaken, a long procession of horse boxes rattle through, and a saloon carriage, with people, is so much in evidence that the name of an English Duke is freely mentioned, and every new passage relieves the tedium of the waiting. Out of all this confusion trains begin to grow and take shape, and one, with green carriages, looks so complete that a rumour spreads that the Hielant train has been made up and may appear any minute in its place. The sunshine beating through the glass roof, the heat of travel, the dust of the station, the moving carriages with their various colours, the shouts of railway officials, the recurring panics of fussy passengers, begin to affect the $ KATE CARNKCjIE. 'I! ! ■:i I HI li ';f i ;:■: J I if ' nerves. Conversation becomes brciken, ]iorters are be- set on every side with questions they cannot answer, rushes are made on any empty carriages within reach, a child is knocked down and cries. Over all this excitement and confusion one man is presiding, untiring, forceful, ul)i(iuitous — a sturdy man, somewhere about five feet ten, whose lungs are brass and nerves fine steel wire. He is dressed, as to his body, in brown corduroy trousers, a blue jacket and waistcoat with shining brass buttons, a grey flannel shirt, and a silver-braided cap, which, as time passes, he thrusts fur- ther back on his head till its peak stands at last almost erect, a crest seen high above the conflict. As to the soul of him, this man is clothed with resolution, cour- age, authority, and .ui infectious enthusiasm. lie is the brain and will of the whole organism, its driving power. Drivers lean ou' of their engines, one hand on the steam throttle, their eyes fixed on this man ; if he waves his hands, trains move ; if he holds them up, trains halt. Strings of carriages out in the open are carrying out his ])lans, and the porters toil like maniacs to meet his com- mands. Piles of luggage disappear as he directs the attack, and his scouts capture isolated boxes hidden among the peoj)le. Every horse box has a place in his memory, and he has calculated how many carriages would clear the north traffic ; he carries the destination of families in his head, and has made arrangements for their comfort. " Soon ready now, sir," as he passed swiftly down to receive the last southerner, " and a second compartment reserved for you," till people watched for him, and the sound of his voice, " forrit wi' the Hielant luggage," ins])ired bewildered tourists with confidence, and became an argument for Providence. li pani)i:moxium. There is a general movement towards the northern eml of the station ; five barrows, whose higgage swings dan- gerously and has to be held on, ]),iss in procession ; dogs are collected and trailed along in bundles; families l)ick up their bags and press afi r their luggage, cheered to recognise a familiar piece peeping out from strange goods; a bell is rung wiUi insistence. The Aberdeen express leaves — its passengers regarding the platform with pity — and the guard of the last van slamming his door in triumph. The great man concentrates his force with a wave of his hand for the tour lie force of the year, the despatch of the Hielant train. The southern end of the platform is now deserted — the London express departed half an hour ago with thirteen passengers, very crestfallen and envious — and across the open centre porters hustle barrows at head- long speed, with neglected pieces of luggage. Along the edge of the Highland platform there stretches a solid mass of life, close-packed, motionless, silent, composed of tourists, dogs, families, hjrds, dogs, sheep farmers, keepers, clericals, dogs, footmen, commercials, ladies' maids, grooms, dogs, waiting for the empty train that, after deploying hither and thither, i)icking up some tride, a horse box or a duke's saloon, at every new raid, is now backing slowly in for its freight. 'L'he expectant crowd has ceased from conversation, sporti' ^ or other- wise ; respectable elderly gentlemen brace themselves for the scramble, and examine their nearest neighbours suspiciously ; heads of families gather their belongings round them by signs and explain in a whisper how to act; one female tourist — of a certain age and severe aspect — refreshes her memory as to the best window for the view of Killiecrankie. The luggage has been 1' t t-i- 10 KATE CARNEGIE. piled in huge masses at each end of the siding ; the porters rest themselves against it, taking off their caps, and wiping their foreheads with handkerchiefs of many colours and uses. It is the stillness before the last charge ; beyontl the outermost luggage an arm is seen waving, and the long coil of carriages begins to twist into the station. ^3^M^ .'iir Peojile who know their ancient Muirtown well, and have taken part in this day of days, will re- member a harbour of refuge beside the book- stall, protected by the buffers of the Highland siding on one side and a breakwater of luggage on the other, and per- sons within this shelter could see the storming of the train to great ad- van t age. Carmichael, the young Free Kirk minister of Drumtochty, who had been tasting the CARMICHAEL HAD TAKEN HIS TURN- Knt-m'tvm .n fT nmmaih^ Wn' I'ANDKMOMr.M. XI T 1- -1, rk y, civilisation of Muirtown overnight and was wailing for the Dunlcith train, leant against the back of the bookstall, watching the scene with frank, boyish interest. Rather nntler six feet in height, he passed for more, because he stood so straight and looked so sliin, for his limbs were as slender as a woman's, while women (in Muirtown) had envied his hands and feel. l»ut in chest measure he was only two inches behind Saunders Baxter, the grieve of Drumshcugh, who was the standard of manhood by whom all others were tried and (mostly) condemned in Drum- tochty. Chancing to come upon Saunders i)utting the stone one day with the bothy lads, C'armichael had taken his turn, with the result tiiat his stone lay foremost in the final heat by an inch exactly. Mac Lure saw them kneeling together to measure, the I'ree Kirk minister and the plouglimen all in a bunch, and went on his way rejoicing to tell the Free Kirk folk that their new minis- ter was a man of his hands. His hair was fair, just touched with gold, anil he wore it rather long, so that in the excitement of preaching a lock sometimes fell down on his forehead, which he would throw back with a toss of his head — a gesture Mrs. Macfadyen, our critic, thought very taking. His dark blue eyes uscl to enlarge with passion in the Sacrament and grow so tender, the healthy tan disappearetl and left his cheeks so white, that the mothers were terrified lest he should die early, and sent offerings of cream on Monday morning, I'or though his name was Carmichael, he had Celtic bUjod in him, and was full of all kinds of emotion, but mostly those that were brave antl pure and true. He had done well at the University, and was inclined to be philosopii ical, for he knew little of himself and nothing of the world. There were times when he allowed himself to be . ( SBfflfflS^Pp Il: Ml 12 KATK CARNIX'.ir:. li A: m li sui)c'rcilioiis and sarcastic ; but it was not for an occa- sional }\ui;\c of cleverness llie jjcople loved him, or, for that matter, any other man. It was his humanity that won their hearts, and this lie hid partly from his mother, j)arlly from his traininj^. Through a kind providence and his mother's countryness, he had been brought \\\> among animals — birds, mice, dormice, guinea-pigs, rabbits, dogs, c:attk', horses, till he knew all their ways, and loved (lod's creatures as did St. Francis d'Assisi, to whom every creature of (lod was dear, from Sister Swallow to P)rolher Wolf. So he learned, as he grew older, to love men and women anil little children, even although they might be ugly, or stupid, or bad-tempered, or even wicked, and this sympathy cleansed away many a little fault of pride and self-conceit and impatic ncc and hot temper, and in the end of the days made a man of John Carmichael. The dumb animals had an instinct about this young fellow, and would make overtures to him that were a certificate for any situation requiring character. Morses by the wayside neighed at his approach, and stretched out their velvet muzzles to be stroked. Dogs insisted upon sitting on his knees, unless quite prevented by their ^ize, and then they put their paws on his chest. Hillocks was utterly scandalised by his collie's fimiliarity with tiie minister, and brought him to his senses by the application of a boot, but Car- michael w^iived all apologies. '' Rover and 1 made friends two days ago on the road, and my clothes will take no injury." And indeed they could not, for Car- michael, except on Sundays and at funerals, wore a soft hat and suit of threadbare tweeds, on which a micro- scopist could have found traces of a peat bog, moss of dykes, the scale of a trout, and a tiny bit of heather. u^jitM-7,!wr^m-jrrm>mM:ti^,Uu'Simi&SS^SfSfiS9lti PANDKMONir.M. '3 ss ir n ; le '^Q ill r- . a of His usual fortune iK-ffU hiin that day iu Muirtosvn Station, for two ri'triewrs, worniiii.n tlicir way through ilu' lnj,%'ij,'<'. rc.K lu'd him. and nvAdc known their wants. "'I'hirsty? 1 hclicvi' you. All the way from Kngland, nnd heat enough to roast you alive. I 'vc got no dish, else I M soon get water. " Inverness? I'oor chaijs, that's too far to go with your tongues like a lime-kiln. Down, good dogs; 1 11 hi' back in a minute." \()U can have no idea, unless you have tried it, how uuich water a soft clerical hat ran hold — if you turn up the edges and bash down the inside with your fist, and fill the space to the brim. Hut it is difficult to con- vey such a vessel with undiiuinished content through a crowd, and altogether impossible to lift one's eyes. C'armichael was therefore (juile unconscious that two new-comers to the slielter were watching him with keen delight as he came in bareheaded, flushed, triumj)hant — amid howls of welcome — and knelt down to hold the cup till — drinking time about in strict honour — the retrievers had reached the maker's name. "Do you think they would like a biscuit?" said a clear, sweet, low voice, with an accent of pride and just a flavour of amusement in its tone. Carmichael ros(,' in much embarrassment, and was quite confounded. They were standing together — father and daughter, evidently — and there .was no manner of doubt about him. A spare man, without an ounce of superfluous flesh, straight as a rod, and having an air of command, with keen grey eyes, close-cropped hair turning white, a clean-shaven face except where a heavy moustache covered a firm-set mouth — one recognised in him a retired army man of rank, a colonel at least, it might be roSifl'S*!? 14 K.vir: car\I':gik. i;t ; " Hi a general ; and the bronze on his face suggested long Indian service. lUit he might have been dressed in Rob Roy tcT-tan, or been a nava! officer in full unifc^rni, for all Carmichael knew. A hundred thousand faces pass before your eyes and are forgotten, mere physical ' npressions ; you see one, and it is in yom- heart for ever, as you saw it the first time. Wavy black hair, a low, straight forehead, hazel eyes widi long eyelashes, a perfectly-shaped Grecian nose, a strong mouth, whose upper lip had a curve of softness, a clear-cut chin with one dimple, small ears set high in the head, and a rich creamy comi)lexion — that was what flashed upon Car- michael as he turned from the retrievers. He was a man so unobservant of women that he could not have described a woman's dress to save his life or any other person's ; and now tiiat he is married — lie is a middle- aged man now and threatened with stoutness — it is his wife's reproach that he does not know when she wears her new spring bonnet for the first time. Yet he took in this young woman's dress, from the smart hat, with a v'hite bird's wing on the side, and tiie close-fitting t'dlor made jacket, to the small, well-gloved hand in dogskin, the grey tweed skirt, and one shoe, with a tip on it, that peeped out below her frock. Critics might iiave hinted that her shoulders were too square, and that her figure wanted somewhat in sot"tness of outline ; but it seemed to Carmichael that he had never seen so winsome or high-bred a woman ; and so it has also seemed to many who have gone flirther afield in the world than the young minister of Drumtochty. Carmichael was at that age when a man prides him- self on dressing and thinking as he pleases, and had quite scandalised a Muirtown elder — a stout gentleman, •:f^il.hmmvtsv PANDKMOXIUM. IS at ,"d ire ,ed or .11 y ing m- lad an, who had come out in '43, and could with difficulty be weaned from Dr. Chahners — by making his appearance on the preceding evening in amazing tweeds and a grey flannel shirt. He explained casually that for a fifteen- mile walk flannels were absolutely necessary, and that he was rather pleased to find that he had come from door to door in four hours and two minutes exactly. His host was at a loss for words, because he was comparing this unconventional youth with the fathers, who wore large white stocks and ambled rlong at about two and a half miles an hour, clearing their throats also in a very impressive way, and seasoning the principles of the Free Kirk with snuff of an excellent fragrance. It was hard even for the most generous charity to identify the si)irit of the Disruption in such a figure, and the good eliler grew so proper and so didactic that Carmichael went from bad to worse. " Well, you would find the congregation in excellent order. The Professor was a most ])ainstaking man, though retiring in disposition, and his sermons were thoroughly solid and edifying. They were possibly just a litUe above the heads of Drumtochty. but I always enjoyed Mr. Cunningham myself," nodding his head as one who understood all mysteries. " Did you ever happen to hear the advice Jamie Soutar gave the deputation from Muirtown when they came up to see whether Cunningham would be fit for the North Kirk, where two Dailies stand at the plate every day, and the Provost did not think himself good enough to be an elder?" for Carmichael was full of wickedness that day, and earning a judgment. His host indicated that the ileputation had given in a very full and satibfactory report — he was, in fact, on the ■tv- r r i ' ^•S^B'SI x6 KATE CARNEGIE. li ii Session of the North himself — but that no reference had been made to Jamie. " Well, you nuist know," and Carmichael laid himself out for narration, " the people were harassed with raids from the T )wlands during Cunningham's time, and did their best in self-defence. Spying makes men cunning, and it was wonderful how many subterfuges the deputa- tions used to practise. They would walk from Kildrum- mie as if thoy were staying in the district, and one retired tradesman talked about the crops as if he was a farmer, but it was a pity that he did n't know the differ- ence between the cereals. "■ * Yon man that wes up aifter yir minister, Elsp?th,' Hillocks said to Mrs. Macfadyen, * hcsna hed muckle money spent on his eddication. " A graund field o' barley," he says, and as sure as a 'm stannin' here, it wes the haugh field o' aits.' "'He's frae Cilaisgie,' was all Elspeth answered, 'and by next Friday we '11 hae his name an' kirk. He said he wes up for a walk an' juist dropped in, the wratch.' •' Some drove from Muirtown, giving out that they were English tourists, speaking with a fine East Coast accent, and were rebuked by Lachlan Campbell for breaking the Sabbath. Your men put up their trap at the last form in Netheraird — which always has grudged Drumtochty its ministers and borne their removal with resignation — and came up in pairs, who pretended they did not know one another. "Jamie was hearing the Professor's last lecture on Justification, and our people asked him to take charge of the strangers. He found out the town from their hats, and escorted them to the boundaries of the parish, assisting their confidences till one of your men — I PANDEMONIUM. 17 on irge Iheir rish, I think it was the Provost — admitted that it had taken them all their time to follow the sermon. " * A 'm astonished at ye,' said Jamie, for the Nether- aird man let it out ; * yon wes a sermon for young fouk, juist milk, ye ken, tae the ordinar' discoorses. Surely,' as if the thought had just struck him, ' ye werena thinkin' o' callin' Maister Cunningham tae Muirtown. " * Edinboorgh, noo ; that micht dae gin the feck o' the members be professors, but Muirtown wud be clean havers. There 's times when the Drumtochty fouk themsels canna understand the cratur, he 's that deep. As for Muirtown' — here Jamie allowed himself a brief rest of enjoyment; 'but ye 've hed a fine drive, tae say naethin' o' the traivel.' " Then, having begun, Carmichael retailed so many of Jamie's most wicked sayings, and so exalted the Glen as a place " where you can go up one s'de and down the other with your dogs, and every second man you meet will give you something to remember," that the city dignitary doubted afterwards to his wife *' whether this young man was . . . quite what we have been accus- tomed to in a Free Church minister." Carmichael ought to have had repentances for shocking a worthy man, but instead thereof laughed in his room and slept soundly, not knowing that he would be humbled in the dust by mid-day to-morrow. It seemed to him on the platform as if an hour passed while he, who had played with a city father, stood, clothed with shame, before this commanding young woman. Had she ever looked upon a more abject wretch? and Carmichael photographed himself with merciless accu- racy, from his hair that he had not thrown back to an impress of dust which one knee had taken from the ■'m 'f i8 KATK CARNEGIE. (ii-' :! ! ^! platform, and he registered a resolution that he would never be again boastfully indifferent to the loss of a button on his coat. She stooped and fed the dops, who (lid her homage, and he marked that her profile was even finer — more delicate, more perfect, more bewitch- ing — than her front face ; but he still stood holding his shapeless hat in his hand, and for the first time in his life had no words to say. " They are very polite dogs," and Miss Carnegie gave Carmichael one more chance ; " they make as much of a biscuit as if it were a feast ; but I do think dogs have such excellent manners, they are always so un-self-conscious." *' I v^'ish I were a dog," said Carmichael, with much solemnity, and afterwards was filled with tnankfulness that the baggage behind gave way at that moment, and that an exasperated porter was able to express his mind freely. *' Dinna try tae lift that box for ony sake, man. Sail, ye 're no' feared," as Carmichael, thirsting for action, swung it up unaided ; and then, catching sight of the merest wisp of white, " A' didna see ye were a minister, an' the word cam oot sudden." '• You woul 1 find it a help to say Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Durham," and with a smile to Carmichael, still bareheaded and now redder than ever. Miss Carnegie went along the platform to see the Hielant train depart. It was worth wailing to watch the two minutes' scrimmage, and to hear the great man say, as he took off his cap with deliberation and wiped his brow, " That 's anither year ower; some o' you lads see tae that Dunleith train." There was a day when Car- michael would have enjoyed the scene to the full, but now he had eyes for nothing but that tall, slim figure and the white bird's wing. PAN.'EMONIUM. ^yhm they disappeared into the D.mleith triin C. -- .»• .e ;..:;;:' r ;::^ ;r :;;r. ':;- people and eve.y one of the Drun«„ch,y men He ^ so mnch engaged witi, his own tho„ehts 2, K two K„g,„ ,„,, ,„ ,,„^,^^^^^,_^^, Zf 1 Kktr: casde, stan.hng amid its woods on the bank o the Tny i a^n the North trunk Hue for Dunleith they might at any moment enter the pas. of Killiecrankie. i-t CHAPTER II. .^jum^-^tilftf -*■ ^.- ^ a"' PEACE. ^HP^ last stage now, Kit ; \^ in less th::n two hours we'll see Tochty woods. The very thought makes me a boy again, and it seems yesterday that 1 kissed your mother on the door-step of the old lodge and went off to tiie Crimean u'ar. ** That 's Muirtown Castle over there in the wood — a grand place in its way, but nothing to our home, lassie. Kilspindie — he was Viscount Hay then — joined me at Muirtown, and we fought through the weary winter. He left the army after the war, with lots of honour. A good fellow was Hay, both in the trenches and the messroom. '* I 've never seen him since, and I dare say he 's for- gotten a battered old Indian. Besides, he 's the big swell in this district, and I'm only a poor Hielant laird, with a wood and a tumble- down house and a couple of farms." PEACE. 21 " ^'()^ are also a shameless hypocrite and deceiver, for you believe that the Carnegies arc as old as the Hays, and yon know that,, though you have only two farms, you have twelve medals and seven wounds. What does money matter? it simply makes people vulgar." " Nonsense, lassie ; if a Carnegie runs down money, it 's because he has got none and wishes he had. If you anil 1 had only a few hundreds a year over the half- pay to rattle in our pockets, we should have lots of lit- tle pleasures, and you might have lived in England, with all sorts of variety and comfort, instead of wandering about India with a gang of stupid old chaps who have been so busy fighting that they never had time to read a book." " You mean like yourself, dad, and V. C. and Colonel Kinloch ? Where could a girl have found finer company than with my Knights of King Arthur? And do you dare to insinuate tnat I could have been content away from the regiment, that made me their daughter after mother died, and the army? " Pleasure ! " and Kate's cheek flushed. " I 've had it since I was a little tot and could remember anything — the bugles sounding reveille in the clear air, and the sergeants drilling the new drafts in the morning, and the regiment coming out with the band before and you at its head, and hearing ' (lod save the Queen ' at a review, and seeing the companies passing like one man before the General. " Don't you think that 's better than tea-drinking, and gossiping, and sewing meetings, and going for walks in some stupid little hole of a country town? Oh, you wicked, aggravating dad. Now, what more will money do?" Hi ,\ r. ■i ' * "'"^ "-"■"---"-'■ ■(' 1 II III I- ■MMHMH it KATi: (WRNrXUE. Ill ;i u m *' Well," said the Cicm:;ral, with much gravity, " if you were even a moderate heiress there is no saying but that we might ])ick up a presentable husband for you among the lairds. As it is, I fancy a country minister is all you could expect. " Don't ... my ears will come off some day ; one was loosened by a cut in the Mutiny. No, 1 '11 never do the like again. I>ut some day you will marry, all the same," and Kate's father rubbed his ears. " No, I 'm not going to leave you, for nobody else could ever make a curry to please ; and if I do, it will not be a Scotch minister — horrid, bigoted wretches, V. C. says. Am I like a minister's wife, to address mothers' meetings and write out sermons? V>y the way, is there a kirk at Drumtochty, or will you read prayers to Janet and Donald and me?" " When I was a lad there was just one minister in Drumtochty, Mr. Davidson, a splendid specimen of the old school, who, on great occasions, wore gaiters and a frill with a diamond in the centre ; he carried a gold- headed stick, and took snufil out of a presentation box. " His son Sandie was my age to a year, and many a ploy we had together ; there was the jackdaw's nest in the ivy on the old tower we harried together," and the General could only indicate the delightful risk of the exploit. " My father and the minister were pacing the avenue at the time, and caught sight of us against the sky. ' IL 's your rascal and mine, Laird,' we heard the minister say, and they waited till we got down, and then each did his duty by his own for trying to break his neck ; but they were secretly proud of the exploit, for I caught my father showing old Lord Kilspindie ritajmiavKHi. I'MAcr: iIk- spot, and next time I lay was u|) he tried to reach the place, and stuck wlicrc the wall hangs over. I'll point out the hole this evenint,' ; you can see it from the other side of tlie den quite jjlain. f, " Sandie went to the church — I wish every parson were as i^r "m ■•'' ^'^f^^i /A' 'M' y !' m .s ^'^fM^'r ^\ straigh . — and Kilspindie ap- pointed him to succeed the old gentleman, and when I saw him in his study last month, it seemed as if his father stood before you, except the breeches and the frill ; but Sandie has a marvellous ' — ^•■■'■■■^^=»f^.,. ^ stock — what havers 1 'm deivin' you wiih, lassie." "Tell me about Sandie this minute — did he remem- ber the raiding of the j a c k- daws?" " He did," cried the Gen- eral, in greit spirits ; " he just looked at mo for an instant — no one knew of my visit — and then he gripped my hands, and do you know. Kit, he was . . . well, and there was a lump in my throat too ; it would be about thirty years, for one reason and another, since we met." Ik^P' " MANY A PLOY WE HAD TOGETHER. ! - ' mmmmmm "'■'" "jmi w mmmmm mm H KATK CARNEr.IF!. I! r 111 I "What (lid he say? the very words, chid," and Kate held up her finger in command. "'Jack, old man, is this really you ? ' — he held me at arm's length — 'man, div ye mind the jackdaw's nest?'" "Did he? And he's to be our padre. I know I'll love him at once. Go on, everything, for you 've never told me anything about Drumtochty." " We had a glorious time going over old times. We fished up every trout again, and we shot our first day on the moor again with Peter Stewart, Kilspindie's head keeper, as fine an old Highlander as ever lived. Stewart said in the evening, ' You 're a pair of prave boys, as becometh your fathers' sons,' and Sandie gave him two and fourpence he had scraped for a tip, but I had only one and elevenpence — we were both kept bare. Hut he knew better than to refuse our offerings, though he never saw less than gold or notes from the men that shot at the lodge, and Sandie remembered how he touched his Highland bonnet and said, ' I will be much obliged to you both ; and you will be coming to the moor another day, for I hef his lordship's orders.' " Boys are (}ueer animals, lassie ; we were prouder that Peter accepted our poor little tip than about the muirfowl we shot, though I had three brace and Sandie four. Highlanders are all gentlemen by birth, and be sure of this. Kit, it 's only that breed which can manage boys and soldiers. But where am I now? " " With Sandie — I beg his reverence's pardon — with the Rev. the padre of Drumtochty," and Kate went over and- sat down beside the General to anticipate any re- bellion, for it was a joy to see the warrior turning into a boy before her eyes. " Well? " PEACE. (( We had a royal dinner, as it seemed to mc. Sandio has a couple ot servants, man and wife, who rule him with a rod of iron, but 1 would forgive that for the cook- ing and the loyalty. After dinner he disajjpeared with a look of mystery, and came back with a cobwebbed bottle of the old shape, short and bunchy, which he carried as if it were a baby. " * Just two bottles of my father's port left , we Ml have one to-day to welcome you back, and we '11 keep the other to celebrate your daughter's marriage.' He had one sister, younger by ten years, and her death in girl- hood nearly broke his heart. It struck me from some- thing he said that his love is with her ; at any rate, he has never married. S.mdie has just one fault — he would not touch a cheroot ; but he snuffs- handsomely out of his father's box. "Of course, I crn't say anything about his preaching, but it's bound to be sensible stuff." " Bother the sermons ; he 's an old dear himself, and I know we shall be great friends. We '11 flirt together, and you will not have one word to say, so make up your mind to submit." " We shall have good days in the old place, lassie ; but you know we are poor, and must live quietly. What I have planned is a couple of handy women or so in the house with Donald. Janet is going to live at the gate where she was brought up, but she will look after you well, and we '11 always have a bed and a glass of wine for a friend. Then you can have a run up to London and get your things, Kit," and the General looked wistfully at his daughter, as one who would have given her a kingdom. " ^ .,. .. . .-^ -- " Do you think your girl cares so much about luxuries i;. hi IHr>U«4MHMt)i»)4ttI M MMMPMH 2S KATE CARNEGIE. reluctance thfit " thero 's h stranger in the second T rnnna male oot," but it is understood that he solved the problem before the man got his luggage at Kildrummie. Perhaps Peter's most famous achievement was iiis demolition of a south country bagman, who had made himself unpleasant, and the story was much tastetl by our guard's admirers. This self-important and vivacious gentleman, seated in the first, was watching Peter's leisurely movements on the Kildrummie platform with much impatience, and lost all self-control on Peter going outside to examine the road for any distant passenger. " Look here, guard, this train ought to have left five minutes ago, and I give you notice that if we miss our connection I '11 hold your company responsible." At the sound of this foreign voice with its indecent clamour, Peter returned and took up his position oppo- site the speaker, while the staff and the whole body of passengers — four Kildrummie and three Drumtocht}', quite sufficient for the situation — waited the issue. Not one word did Peter deign to reply, but he fixed the irate traveller with a gaze so searching, so awful, so irresistible, that the poor man fell back into his seat and pretended to look out at the opposite window. After a pause of thirty seconds, Peter turned to the engine-driver. "They're a' here noo, an' there's nae use waitin' langer ; ca' awa', but ye needna distress the engine." It was noticed that the foolhardy traveller kept the full length of the junction between himself and Peter till the Dunleith train came in, while his very back was elo- quent of humiliation, and Hillocks offered his snuff-box ostentatiously to Peter, which that worthy accepted as a public tribute of admiration. t >■ ; PETER WAS STANDING IN HIS FAVOURITE AHTIUDE, mmmmmmm mm mm 30 KATE CARNEGIE. !!;3 " Look, Kate, there he is ; " and there Peter was, standing in his favourite attitude, his legs wide apart and his thumbs in liis armholes, superior, abstracted, motionless till the train stopped, when he came forward. " Trood tae see ye, General, coming back at laist, an' the Miss wi' ye ; it Ml no be the blame o' the fouk up by gin ye bena happy. Drumtochty hes an idea o' itsel', and peety the man 'at tries tae drive them, but they 're couthy. " 'I'his wy, an' a '11 see tae yir luggage," and before Peter made for the Dunleith van it is said that he took off his cap to Kate ; but if so, this was the only time he had ever shown such gallantry to a lady. Certainly he must have been flustered by something, for he did not notice that Carmichael, overcome by shyness at the sight of the Carnegies in the first, had hid himself in the second, till he closed the doors ; then the Carnegies heard it all. "It's I, Peter," very quietly; "your first has passen- gers to-day, and ... I '11 just sit here." " Come oot o' that," after a moment, during which Peter had simply looked ; then the hat and the tweeds came stumbling into the first, making some sort of a bow and muttering an apology. "A '11 tak' yir ticket, Maister Carmichael," with severity. " General," suddenly relaxing, " this is the Free Kirk minister of yir pairish, an' a 'm jidgin' he 'U no try the second again." Carmichael lifted his head and caught Kate's eye, and at the meeting of humour they laughed aloud. Where- upon the (ieneral said, " My daughter. Miss Carnegie," and they became so friendly before they reached Kil- drurnmie that Carmichael forgot his disgraceful appear- PEACE. 3' ance, and when the (]eneral offered him a lift up, simply clutched at the opportunity. 'I'he trap was a four-wheeled dog-cart. Kate drove with her f .ther by her side and Carmichael behind, buj he found It necessary to turn round to give information of names ^.nd places, and he so managed that he could catch Kate's profile half the time. When he got down at the foot of the hill by Hillocks' farm, to go up the near road, instead thereof he scram- bled along the ridge, and looked through the trees as the carriage passed below; but he did not escape. "What's he glowerin' at doon there?" Hillocks in- qinred of Jamie Soutar, to whom he was giving some directions about a dyke, and Hillocks made a reconnais- sance. " A '11 warrant that 's the General and his doch- •ier. She 's a weel-faured lassie an' speerity-lookin'." "It cowesa'," said Jamie to himself ; - the first day he ever saw her; but it's a>^ the way, aince an' ever, or . . . never." "What's the Free Kirk, dad?" when Carmichael. had gone. " Is It the same as the Methodists? " " No, no, quite different. I 'm not up in those things but I 've heard it was a lot of fellows who would not obey the laws, and so they left and made a kirk for themselves, where they do whatever thev like. By the way, that was the young fellow we saw giving the'do^rs water at Muirtown. I rather like him ; i)t,t why did he look such a fool, and try to escape us at the junction ^" "How should I know? I suppose because he is a . . .foolish boy. And now, dad, for the Lodge and lochty woods." I ■ nminmiiiinimir.,i*t-iH CHAPTER III. A HOME OF MANY GENERATIONS. :!^ I I was the custom of the former tmie to construct roads on a straight Hne, with a preference for uphill iind down, and engi- neers refused to make a circuit of twenty yards to secure level ground. There were two advantages in this uncompromising prin- ciple of construction, and it may be doubt- ful which commended itse'.j" most to the mind of our fathers. Roads were drained after the simplest fashion, because a stand- ing pool in the hollow had more than a comjjensation in the dryness of the ascent and descent, while the neces- sity of sliddering down one side and scrambling up the other reduced driving to the safe average of four miles an hour — horse-doctors forming a class by themselves, and being preserved in their headlong career by the r m A HOME OF MANY GENERATIONS. s^ particular Providence which has a genial rccjard for per- sons who have too little sense or have taken too much liquor. Degenerate descendants, anxious to obtain the maximum of speed with the minimum of exertion, have shown a quite wonderful ingenuity in circumventing hills, so the road between Drumtochty Manse and '1 bchty Lodge gate was duplicated, and the track that plunged into the hollow was now forsaken of wheeled traffic and over- grown with grass. " This way, Kate ; it 's the old road, and the way I came to kirk with my mother. Yes, it 's narrow, but we '11 get through and down below — it is worth the seeing." So they forced a passage where the overgrown hedges resisted the wheels, and the trees, wet with a morning shower, dashed Kate's jacket with a pleasant spray, and the rail of the dog-cart was festooned with tendrils of honeysuckle and wild geranium. "There is the parish kirk of Drumtochty," as they came out and halted on the crest of 'he hill, " and though it be not much to look at after the Norman churches of the south, it 's a brave old kirk in our fashion, and well set in the Glen." For it stood on a knoll, whence the ground sloped down to the Tochty, and it lay with God's acre round it in the shining of the sun. Half a dozen old beeches made a shadow in the summer-time, and beat off the winter's storms. One standing at the west corner of the kirkyard had a fuller and sweeter view of the Glen than could be got anywhere save from the beeches at the Lodge ; but then nothing like unto that can be seen far or near, and I have marvelled why painting men have never had it on their canvas. mmmmmm 34 KATE CARNEGIE. " Our vault is at the east end, v. here the altar was in the old days, and there our dead of many generations lie. A Carnegie always prayed to be buried with his people in Drumtochty, but as it happened, two out of three of our house have fallen on the field, and so most of us have not had our wish. "Black John, my great-grandfather, was out in '45, and escaped to France. He married a Highland lassie orphaned there, and entered the French service, as many a Scot did before him since the days of the Scots Guards. But when he felt himself a-dying, he asked leave of the English government to come home, and he would not die till he laid himself down in his room in the tower. Then he gave directions for his funeral, how none were to be asked of the county folk but Drummonds and Hays and Stewarts from Blair Athole and such like that had been out with the Prince. And he made his wife promise that she would have him dressed for his coffin as he fought on CuUoden field, for he had kept the clothes. "Then he asked that the window should be opened that he might hear the lilting of the burn below ; and he called for my grandfather, who was only a young lad, and commanded him to enter one of the Scottish regi- ments and be a loyal kingsman, since all was over with the Stewarts. " He said a prayer and kissed his wife's hand, being a courtly gentleman, and died listening to the sound of the water running over the stones in the den below." "It was as good as dying on the field," said Kate, her face fiusMng with pride ; " that is an ancestor worth reinenribering ; and did he get a worthy funeral? " " More than he asked for ; his old comrades gathered a le IT th A HOME OF MANY GKNKRATIOXS. 35 from far and near, and some of the chiefs that were out (jf hidinj( came down, and they brought him up this very road, with the pipers playing before the coffin. Fifty gentlemen buried John Carnegie, and every man of them had been out with the Prince. *• When they gathered m the stone hall you '11 see soon, his friend-in-arms, Patrick Murray, gave three toasts. 'I'he first was ' the king,' and every man bared his head ; the second was " to him that is gone ; ' the third w.'s * to the friends that are flir awa';' and then one of the chiefs proposed another, * to the men of Culloden ; ' and after that every gentleman dashed his glass on the floor. Though he was only a little lad at the time, my grandfather never forgot the sight. " He also told me that his mother never shed a tear, but looked prouder than he ever saw her, and before they left the hall she bade each gentleman good-bye, and to the chief she spoke in Gaelic, being of Cluny's blood and a gallant lady. " Another thing she did a^so which the lad could not forget, for she brought down her husband's sword from the room in the turret, and Patrick Murray, of the House of Athole, fastened it above the big fireplace, where it hangs unto this day, crossed now with my father's, as you vvill see, Kate, unless we stand here all day going over old stories." " Ti\ey 're glorious stories, dad ; why did n't you tell them to me before ? I want to get into the spirit of the past and feel the Carnegie blood swinging in my veins before we come to the Lodge. What did they do after- wards, or was that all? " " They mounted their horses in the courtyard, and as each man passed out of the gate he took off his hat and • ' 1 il 3^ KATK CARNEGIE. bowed low to the widow, who stood in a window I will show you, and watched till the last disappeared into the avenue ; but my grandfather ran out and saw them ride down the road in order of threes, a goodly company of gentlemen. But this sight is better the i horsemen and swords." They were now in the hollow between the kirk and the Lodge, a cup of greenery surroumled by wood, liehind, they still saw the belfry through the beeches ; before, away to the right, the grey stone of a turret showed among the trees. 'I he burn that sang to Black John ran beneath them with a pleasant sound, and fifty yards of turf climbed up to the cottage where the old road joined the new and the avenue of the Lodge began. Over this ascent the branches met, through which the sunshine glimmered and flickered, and down the centre came a white and brown cow in charge of an old woman. " It 's Bell Robb, that lives in the cottage there among the bushes. I was at the parish school with her, Kate — she 's just my age — for we were all John ']\amson's bairns in those days, and got our learning and our licks together, laird's son and cottar's daughter. " People would count it a queer mixture nowadays, but there were some advantages in the former parish school idea ; there were lots of cleverer subalterns in the old regiment, but none knew his men so well as I did. I had played and fought with their kind. Would you mind saying a word to Bell . . . just her name or some- thing? " for this was a new life to the pride of the regi- ment, as they called Kate, and Carnegie was not sure how she might take it. Kate was a lovable lass, but like every complete woman, she had a temper and a stock I 'I :i A HOMl-: OF MANY GENKRA IIUNS. 37 of prejudices. She was good comrade with all true men, although her heart was whole, and with a few women that did not mince their words or carry two faces ; but Kate had claws inside the velvet, and once she so handled with her tongue a young fellow who offended her that he sent in his papers. What she said was not much, but it was memorable, and every word drew blood. Her father was never quite certain what she would do, although he was always sure of her love. " Do you suppose, dad, that I 'm to take up with all your friends of the jackdaw days? You seem to have kept fine company." Kate was already out of the dog- cart, and now took Ikll by the hand. "I an^^ the (leneral's daughter, and he was telling me that you and he were playmates long ago. You '11 let me come to see you, and you Ml tell me all his exploits when he was John Carnegie?" "To think he minded me, an' him sae lang awa' at the weary wars." Bell was between the laughing and the crying. *• We 're lifted to know oor laird 's a Cien- eral, and that he 's gotten sic honour. There 's nae bluid like the auld bluid, an' the Carnegies cud aye afford to be hamely. " Ye 're like him," and Bell examined Kate carefullv ; *' but a' can tell yir mither's dochter, a weel-fiiured mettlesome lady as wes ever seen ; wae 's me, wae 's me for the wars," at the sight of Carnegie's face ; " but ye '11 come in to see Marjorie. A '11 mak her ready," and Bell hurried into the cottage. " Marjorie has been blind from her birth. She was the pet of the school, and now Bell takes care of her. Davidson was telling me that she wanted to support Marjorie off the wages she earns as a field hand on the I "1 AM THE general's DAUGHTER." A HOME OF MANY GENKRAHONS. 39 farms, and the parish had to force half-a-crown a week on them ; but hear this." " Never mind hoo ye look," Bell was speaking. ** A' canna keep them waitin' till ye be snoddil." "Gie me ma kep, at ony rate, that the minister brocht frae Muirtown, and Drtmisheugh's shawl ; it wudna be respectfu' to oor Laird, an' it his first veesit ; " and there wa^: a note of refinement in the voice, as of one living apart. "Yes, I'm here, Mnrjorie," and the General stooped over the low bed where the old woman was lying, •' and this is my daughter, the only child left me ; you would hear that all my boys were killed." " We did that, and we were a' wae for ye ; a' thccht o' ye and a' saw ye in yir sorrow, for them 'at canna see ootside see the better inside. But it '11 be some com- fort to be in the hame o' yir people aince mair, and to ken ye 've dune yir wark weel. It 's pleasant for us to think the licht '11 be burnin' in the windows o' the Lodge again, and that ye 're come back aifter the wars. •' Miss Kate, wull ye kit me pass ma hand ower yir face, an' then a '11 ken what like ye are better nor some 'at hes the joy o' seein' ye wi' their een. . . . The Glen '11 be the happier for the sicht o' ye ; a' thank ye for yir kindness to a puir woman." " If you begin to pay compliments, Marjorie, I '11 tell you what I think of that cap ; for the pink is just the very shade for your complexion, and it 's a perfect shape." " Ma young minister, Maister Carmichael, seleckit it in Miirtown, an' a' heard that he ^^ent ower sax shops to find one to his fancy ; he never forgets me, an' he wrote me a letter on his holiday. A'body likes him for his bonnie face an' honest ways." Il •l 1 \ 1 40 KAIK CARNK(;iK. "Oh, I kiunv him already, Marjoric, for he drove iij) with us, and I th(night him very nice ; but we must go. for you know I 've not yet seen our home, and I 'm just tingling with curiosity." '• Vou '11 not leave without breakin' bread ; it 's little we hae, but we can offer ye oat-cake an' milk in token o' oor loyalty;" and then Bell brought the elements of Scottish food ; and when Marjorie's lips moved in i)rayer as they ate, it seemed to Carnegie and his daughter like a sacrament. So the two went from the fellowship of the poor to their ancient house. They drove along the avenue between the stately beeches that stood on either side and reached out their branches, almost but not quite unto meeting, so that the sini, now in the south, made a train of light down which the (ieneral and Kate came home. At the end of the beeches the road wheeled to the right, and Kate saw for the first time the dwelling-place of her people. Tochty Lodge was of the fourth period of Scottish castellated architecture, and till it fell into disrepair was a very per- fect example of the sixteenth century mansion-hoiise, where strength of defence could not yet be dispensed with, for the Carnegies were too near the Highland bor- der to do without thick walls or to risk habitation on the ground floor. The buildings had first been erected on the L plan, and then had been made into a quadrangle, so that on the left was the main part, with a tower at the south-west corner over the den, and a wing at the south- east coming out to meet the gate. On the north-east and north were a tower and rooms now in ruins, and along the west ran a wall some six feet high with a stone walk three feet from the top, whence you could look down on the burn, A big gateway, whose doors were of ^' I A HcniK OF MANY GKNKRA TIOXS. 41 l^ oak siuddccl with nails, with a grated lattice for observa- tion, gave entrance to the courtyard. In the centre of the yard there was an ancient oak and a draw well whose water never failed. The eastern face was bare of ivy, except at the north corner, where stood the jackdaws' tower; but the rough grey stone was relieved by the tendrils and red blossoms of the hardy tropjcoluni which despises the rich soil of the south and the softer air, and grows luxuriantly on our homely northern houses. As they came to the gateway, the (General bade Katj pull up and read the scroll above, which ran in clear-cut letters — TRY AND TIIKN TRVST • IJKTTKR (iVI)E ASSVRANCH HOT TRUST NOT OR • YE • TRY • FOR • FEAR OF • REPENTANCE. ^:i " We 've been a slow dour race, Kit, who never gave cur heart Hghlly, but having given it, never ])layed the traitor. Fortune has not favoured us, for acre after acre has gone from our hands, but, thank (lod, we 've never had dishonour." " .And never will, dad, for we are the last of the race." Janet Macjjherson was waiting in the deep doorway of the tower, and gave Kate welcome as one whose ances- tors had for four generations served the Carnegies, since the day Black John had married a IVIacpherson. "Calf of my heart," she cried, and took Kate in her arms. " It is your foster-mother that will be glad to see you in the home of your people, and will be praying that God will give you peace and good days." '/ : 11 ' ( f < \ ( : l! r.M wssBSBassBBsmsmmmm ^^^f^^swn ' "Wfiiii JANKT MACPHKRSON WAS WAITING IN 'IriE DEEP DOORWAY. m A HOME OF MANY CJENERATIONS. 43 Then they went up the winding stone stair, with deep, narrow windows, and came into the dining-hall where the fifty Jacobites toasted the king and many a gathering had taken place in the olden time. It was thirty- five feet long by fifteen broad, and twenty-two feet high. The floor was of flags over arches below, and the bare stone walls showed at the windows and above the black oak panelling which reached ten feet from the ground. The fireplace was six feet high, and so wide that two could sit on either side within. Upon the mantelpiece the Carnegie arms stood out in bold relief under the two crossed swords. One or two portraits of dead Carnegies and some curious weapons broke the monotony of the walls, and from the roof hung a finely wrought iron can- delabra. The western portion of the hall was separated by a screen of open woodwork, and made a pleasant (lining- room. A door in the corner led into the tower, which had a library, with Carnegie's bedroom above, and higher still Kate's room, each with a tiny dressing closet. For the Carnegies always lived together in this tower, and their guests at the other end of the hall. The library had two windows. From one you could look down and see nothing but the foliage of the den, with a gleam of water where the burn made a pool, and from the other you looked over a meadow vv'ith big trees to the Tochty sweeping round a bend, and across to the h.^!; opposite banks covered with brush-wood. First they visited Carnegie's room. " Here have we been born, and died if we did not fall in battle, and it 's not a bad billet after all for an old soldier. Yes, that v.i your mother when we were married, but I like this one better," and the General touched his breast, for he carried his love next his heart in a silver locket of Indian workmanship. ^mmmmasfs 44 KATE CARNEGIE. Three fine deerskins lay on the floor, and one side of" the room was hung with tapestry ; but the most striking piece of furnishing in the room was an oak cupboard, sunk a foot into the wall. " I 'II show you something in that cabinet after luncheon, Kate ; but now let 's see your room." " How beautiful, and how cunning you have been," and then she took an inventory of the furniture, all new, but all in keeping with the age of the room. " You have spent far too much on a very self-willed and bad- tempered girl, and all I can do is to make you promise that you will come up here sometimes and let me give you tea in this window-seat, where we can see the woods and the Tochty." "Well, Donald," said the General at table to his faithful servant, " how do you think Drumtochty will suit you ? " " Any place where you and Miss Kate will be living iss a good place for me, and there are six or maybe four men I hef been meeting that hef the language, but not good Gaelic — just poor Perthshire talk," for Donald was a West Highlander, and prided himself on his better speech. "And what about a kirk, Donald? Aren't you Free like Janet?" " Oh, yes, I am Free ; but it iss not to that kirk I will be going most here, and I am telling Janet that she will be caring more about a man that hass a pleasant way with him than about the truth." "What's wrong with things, Donald, since we lay in Edinburgh twenty years ago, and you used to give me bits of the Free Kirk sermons?" *' It iss all wrong that they hef been going these last A HOME OF MANY GENERATIONS. 45 years, for they stand to sing and they sit to pray, and they will be using human himes. And it iss great pieces of the Bible they hef cut out, and I am told that they are not done yet, but are going from bad to worse," and Donald invited questioning. " What more are they after, man? " " It will be myself that has found it out, and it iss only what might be expected, but I am not saying that you will be believing me." " Out with it, Donald ; let 's hear what kind of people we Ve come amongst." " They 've been just foirly left to themselves, and the godless bodies hef taken to watering the whisky." ii^ .,...u^tjip'ffy CHAPTER IV. A SECRET CHAM HER. HE cabinet now, dad, '^' and at once," when they rent up the stairs and were mding in the room. " Just give me three guesses about the mystery ; but first let me examine." It was pretty to see Kate opening the doors, curiously carved with hunting scenes, and searching the interior, tapping with her knuckles and listening for a hollow sound. " Is it a treasure we are to find ? Then that 's one point. Not in the cabinet? I have it; there is a door into some other place ; am n't I right?" "Where could it be? We're in a tower cut off from the body of the Lodge, with a room above and a room below ;" and the General sat down to allow full investigation. After many journeys up and down the stair, and many questions that brought no light, Kate played a woman's trick up in her room. A SP:CRET CH.UtRKR. 47 *' The (iener.il wishes to show me the concealed room in this tower, Janet, or wliatever you call it. Would you kindly tell us how to get entrance? You need n't come down ; just explain to me ; " and Kate was very pleasant indeed. *' Yes, I am hearing there iss a room in the tower, Miss Kate, that strangers will not be able to find ; and it would be very curious if the Carnegies did not have a safe place for an honest gentleman when he wass in a little trouble. .All the good houses will have their secret places, and it will not be easy to find some of them. Oh no ; now I will remember one at Glamis Castle. ..." " Never mind Glamis, nurse, for the General is waiting. Where is the spring? is it in the oak cabinet?" " It will be good for the General to be resting himself after his luncheon, and he will be thinking many things in his room. Oh yes," continued Janet, settling herself down to narrative, and giving no heed to Kate's beguil- ing ways, " old Mary that died near a hundred would be often telling me stories of the old days when I wass a little girl, and the one I liked best wass about the hiding of the Duke of Perth." " You will tell me that to-morrow, when I come down to see your house, Janet, and to-day you '11 tell me how to open the spring," " But it would be a pity not to finish the story about the Duke of Perth, for it goes weil, and it will be good for a Carnegie to hear it." And Kate flung herself into the window-seat, but was hugely interested all the same. " Mary wass sitting at her door in the evening, and that would be three days after Culloden, for the news had been sent by a sure hand from the Laird, when a man came riding along the road, and as soon as Mary 48 KATE CARNKGIE. saw him she knew he wass somebody ; but perhaps it will be too long a story," and Janet began to arrange dresses in a wardrobe. " No, no ; as y(ni have begun it, I want to hear the end ; but ([uick, for there 's the room to see and the rest of the Lodge before it grows dark. What like was he?" " He wass a man that lG(^ked as if he would be com- manding, but his clothes were common grey, and stained with the road. He wass very tired, and could hartUy hold himself up in the saddle, ami his horse wass covered with foam. * Is this I'ochty Lodge?' he as'.ed, soft- ening his voict; as one trying to speak humbly. ' 1 am passing this way, and have a message for Mistress Car- negie ; think you that I can have speech of her cpiietly ? ' " So Mary will go up and tell the lady that one wass waiting to see her, and that he seemed a noble gentle- man. When they came down to the courtyard he had drawn water for his horse from the well, and wass giv- ing him to drink, thinking more of the beast that had borne him than of his own need, as became a man of birth. " At the sight of the lady he took off his bonnet and bowed low, and asked if he might hef a private audi- ence, to which Mistress Carnegie replied, ' We are private here,' and asked, ' Have you been with my son ? ' " ' We fought together for the Prince three days since — m; name is Perth. I am escaping for my life, and desirf a brief rest, if it please you, and bring no danger to your house.' " * Ye had been welcome, my Lord T)uke,' and Mary used to show how her mistress straightened herself, A SECRET ClIAMIJER. 49 • thoun^h you were the poorest soldier that JiacI drawn his su'ord for the good cause, and ye will .tay here till it be safe for you to escape to France.' " He vvass four weeks hidden in the room, and although the soldiers searched all the house, they could never find the place, and Mrs. Carnegie put scorn upon them, asking why they did her so much honour and whom they sought. Oh yes, it wass a ctmning place for the bad times, and you will be pleased to see i: " "And the secret, Janet," cried Kate, her hand upon the door; "you know it quite well." " So does the Ceneral, Catherine of my heart," said Janet, '^'^nd he will be liking to show it himself." So Kate departed in a rage, and gave orders that there be no more delay, for she would not spend an atternoon seeking for rat-holes. ^ - No rat-hole, Kit, but a very fair chamber for a nunted man ; it is twenty years and more since this door opened last, for none knows the trick of it save Janet and myself. There it goes." A panel in the back of the cabinet slid aside behind Its neighbour and left a passage through which one could squeeze himself with an effort. " VVe go up a stair now, and must have light • a candle will do ; the air is perfectly pure, for there 's plenty of ventilation ; " and then they crept up by steps in the thickness of the walls, till they stood in a chamber under six feet high, but otherwise as large as the bed- room below. I'he walls were lined with wood, and there were two tiny slits that gave air, but hardly any hght. The only furniture in the room was an oaken chest, clasped with iron and curiously locked. "Our plate chest, Kit; but there 's not much silver and 4 'ft. iir 50 KATK CARNKC.IE. I gold in it, worse liuk for you, lassie ; in fact, we're a pack of fools to set store by it. There 's nothing in the kist but some okl clothes, and ])erhaps some buckles and such like. I dare say there is a lock of hair also. Some day we will have a hjok inside." "it's a difficult key to turn." "To-day, instantly," and Kate shook her father. " Vou are a dreadful hypocrite, for I can see that you would rather Tochty were burned down than this box be lost. Are there any relics of Prince Charlie in it? Quick." " Be patient ; it 's a difficult key to turn ; there now ; " but there was not much to see — only pieces of woollen cloth tightly folded down. * : A SECRirr CHAMBER. Si " Call Janet, Kate, for she ought to see this opening, and we '11 curry everything down to my room, for no one could tell what like things are in this gloom. Yes, Perth lived here for weeks, and used to go up to the gallery where Black John's mother sat with her maid ; but the son was hiding in the North, and never reached his house till he came to die." First of all they came upon a ball dress of the former time, of white silk, with a sash of Maci)herson tartan, besides much fine lace. " That is the dress your great-grandmother wore as a bruie at the Court of Versailles in the fifties. She was only a lassie, and seemed like her husband's daughter. The Prince danced with her, and they counted the dress something to be kept, and that night Locheil and Cluny also had a reel with Sheena Carnegie, while Black John looked like a young man, for he had been too sorely wounded to be able to dance with her himself." And then the General carried ilown with his own hands a Highland gentleman's evening dress, trews of the Royal tartan, and a velvet coat with silver buttons, and a light plaid of fine cloth. *' And this was her husband's dress that night ; but why the Stewart tartan?" " No, lassie, that is the suit the Prince wore at Holy- rood, where he gave a great ball after Prestonpans, and danced with the Edinburgh ladies. It was smuggled across to France at last with other things of the Prince's, and he gave it to Carnegie. * It will remind you of our great days,' he said, * when the Stewarts saw their friends in Mary's Palace.' " Last of all, the General lifted out a casket and laid it on his table. Within it was a brooch, such as might once Sa KATK CARNKCilK. have been worn either by a man or a woman ;. diamonds set in gold, and in the midst a lock of fair hair. "Is it really, father? ..." And Kate took the jewel in her hand. " Yes, the I'rince's hair — his wedding present to Sheena iMacpherson." Kate kissed it fervently, and passed it to Janet, who placed it carefully in the box, while the (leneral made believe to laugh. " Your mother wore the brooch on great occasions, and you will do the same, Kit, for auld lang syne. There are two or three families left in Perthshire that will like to see it on your breast." " Yes, and there will maybe be more than two or three that will like to see the lady that wears it." This from Janet. " Your compliments are a little late, and you may keep them to yourself, Janet ; it would have been kinder to tell me. ..." "Tell you what?" And the General looked very provoking. " I hate to be beaten." Kate first looked angry, and then laughed. " What else is there to see ? " " There is the gallery, which is the one feature in our poor house, and we will try to reach it from the Duke's hiding-place, for it was a cleverly designed hole, and had its stair up as well as down." And then they all came out into one of the strangest rooms you could find in Scotland, and one that left a pleasant picture in their minds who had seen it lit of a winter night, and the wood burning on the hearth, and Kate dancing a reel with Lord Hay or some other brisk young man, while the General looked on from one of the deep window recesses. A SKCRirr CHAMHKR. 5S 'I'he gallery extendt'd over the hall and Kate's draw- ing-room, and measured fifty feet long from end to end. The ui)pcr part of the walls was divided into compart- ments by an arrading, made of painted i)ilasters and flat arches. Kach compartment had a motto, and this was on one side of the fireplace : A • nice • wyfe • and A • hack • (loorc Oft • makctli • a rich Man • poore. * And on the other : — Give liberalye To neidfrl • folke • Denye • nane • of • Tlieni • a! • for • litle Thow • knawest • licir In ■ this lyfe • of wliat Chaiince • mav • tiie Befall. 11ic glory of the gallery, however, was its ceiling, which was of the seventeenth century work, and so won- derful that many learned persons used to come and study it. After the great disaster when the J.odge was sold and allowed to fall to pieces, this fine work went first, and now no one examining its remains could have imag- inerl how wonderful it was, and in its own way how beautiful. This ceiling was of wood, painted, and semi- elliptical in form, and one wet day, when we knew not what else to do, Kate and I counted more than three hundred panels. It was an arduous labour for the neck, and the General refused to help us ; but I am sure that we did not make too many, for we worked time about, while the General took note of the figures, and our plan 54 KATF, CAKM.CIK. IM was that each finished his tak' of work at some ama/iiig beast, so that we couM make no mistake. Some of the panels were circles, and they were filled in with coats-of- arms ; some were s(inares and they contained a bestiary of that day. It was hard imleed to decide whether the circles or the squares were more interesting. 'Ihe former had the arms of every family in Scotland that had the remotest connection with the Carnegies, and besides swept in a wider field, comprising David, King of Israel, who was placed near Hector of 'IVoy, and Arthur of Brittany not far from Moses — all of whom had appro- priate crests and mottoes. In the centre were the arms of our Lord Christ as Kmpeior of Judea, and the chief part of them was the Cross. Hut it came upon one with a curious shock to see this coat among the shields of Scottish nobles. There were beasts that could be recog- nised at once, and these we; sparingly named; but others were astciunding, and above them were inscribed titles such as these : Shoe-lyon, Musket, Ostray ; and one fearsome animal in the centre was designated the Ram of Arabia. This display ot heraldry and natural history was reinforced by the cardinal virtues in seven- teenth century dress : Charitas as an elderly female of extremely forbidding aspect, receiving two very imper- fectly clad children ; and Temperantia as a furious- looking person — male on the whole rather than female — pouring some liquor — surely water — from a jug into a cup, with averted face, and leaving little to be desired. The afternoon sun shining in through a western window and lingering among the black and white tracery, so that the marking of a shield came into relief or a beast suddenly glared down on one, had a weird, old-world effect. A srx'RKT cirANrniiK. 55 " It 's half ail ariMoiiry and half a mcnngorie," said Kalf, " and I think we 'II ha\ r ti-a in the library with the windows open to tht..- (ilcn." And so they sat together in ([uietness, with books of heraldry and sjujrt and ancient Scottish ( lassies and snrh like roinid them, while Janet went out and in. "So Donald has been obliged to leave his kirk ; " for Kate had not yet forgiven Janet. "He says it's very bad here ; I hoi)e you won't go to such a place." " What would Donald iMacdonald be saying against it?" inquired Janet, severely. " Oh, 1 don't remember — lots of things. I le thought you were making too much of the minister." "The minister iss a good man, and hass some High- land blood in him, though he hass lost his Ciaclic, and he will be very pleasant in the house. l( 1 wass seeing a sheep, and it will be putting on this side and that, and quarrelling with everybody, do you know what 1 will be thinking?" "That's Donald, I supi)0se; well?' " I will say to myself, that sheep iss a goat." And Janet left the room with the laurels of victory. I CHAPTER V. CONCERNING BESOMS. :;i;: il T is one of the miseries of modern life, for which telephones are less than compel "ation, that ninety out of a hundred citv folk have never known the comfort and satisfaction of dwelling in a house. When the sashes are flying away from the windows and the skirt- ing boards from the floor, and the planks below your feet are a finger breadth apart, and the pipes are death-traps, it does not matter that the walls are cov- ered by art papers and plastered over with china dishes. This erection, wherein human bemgs have to live and work and fight their sins and prepare for eternity, is a fraud and a lie. No man compelled to exist in such an environment of unreality can respect himself or other people ; and if it come to pass that he holds cheap views of life, and reads smart papers, and does sharp things in business, and that his talk be only a clever jingle, then a plea in extenuation will be lodged for him at the Great Assize. Small wonder that he comes to regard the world of men as an empty show and is full of cynicism, who has shifted at brief intervals from one shanty to an- 1 ■ t I CONCERNING BESOMS. 57 other and never had a fit dvvelhng-place all his years. When a prophet cometh from the Eternal to speak unto modern times as Dante did unto the Middle Ages, and constructs the other world before our eyes, he will have one circle in his hell for the builders of rotten houses, and doubtless it will be a collection of their own works, so that their sin will be its punishment, as is most fitting and the way of things. Surely there will also be some corner of heaven kept for the man who, having received a charge to build the shell wherein two people were to make a home, laid its foundations deep and raiserl strong walls that nothing but gunpowder could rend in pieces, and roofed it over with oaken timber and lined it with the same, so that many generations might live therein in peace and honour. Such a house was the Lodge in those days, although at last beginning to show signs of decay, and it somehow stirred up the heroic spirit of the former time within a man to sit before the big fire in the hall, with grim Carnegies looking down from the walls and daring you to do any meanness, while the light blazing out from a log was flung back from a sword that had been drawn in the '15. (^ne was unconsciously reii^forced in the secret place of his manhood, and inwardly convinced that what concerneth every man is not whether he fail or succeed, but that he do his duty according 10 the light which may have been given him imtil he die. It was also a regeneration of the soul to awake in a room of the east- ern tower, where the Carnegies' guests slept, and fling up tlie window, with its small square panes, to fill one's lungs with the snell northern air, and look down on the woods glistening in every leaf, and the silver Tochty just touched by the full risen sun. Miracle? Vilvc been i i 'I w 58 KATE CARNEGIE. wrought in that tower, for it happened once that an Edinburgh advocate came to stay at the Lodge, who spake after a quite marvellous fashion, known neither in England nor Scotland ; and being himself of pure bour- geois blood, the fifth son of a f^ictor, felt it necessary to despise his land, from its kirk downwards, and had a collection of japes at Scottish ways, which in his provin- cial simplicity he offered to the Carnegies. It seemed to him certain that people of Jacobite blood and many travels would have relished his clever talk, for it is not given to a national decadent to understand either the people he has deserted or the ancient houses at whose door he stands. Carnegie was the dullest man living in the matter of sneering, and Kate^ took an instant dislike to the mincing little man, whom she ever afterwards called the Popinjay, and so handled him with her tongue that his superiority was mightily shaken. But there was good stuff in the advocate, besides some brains, and after a week's living in the Lodge, he forgot to wear his eye- glass, and let his r's out of c?ptivity, and attempted to make love to Kate, which foc'ishness that masterful damsel brought to speedy confusion. It was also said that when he went back to the Parliament House, every one could understand what he said, and that he got two briefs in one week, which shows how good it is to live in an ancient house with honest people. "Is there a ghost, dad?" They were sitting before the fire in the hall after dinner — Kate in her favourite posture, leaning forward and nursing her knee. The veterans and I thought that she always looked at her best so, with h(M- fine eyes fixed on the fire, and the light bringing her face into relief against the shadow. We saw her feet then — one lif ed a little from the ground — CONCERNING BESOMS. 59 i and V. C. declared they were the smallest you could find for a woman of her si/e. "She knows it, too," he used to say, "for when a KATE IN HER FAVOfRrFE POSITION. woman has big feet she always keeps them tucked in below her gown. A woman with an eight-size glove and feet to correspond is usually a paragon of modesty, and strong on women's rights." f 60 KATE CARNEGIE. 11 ■|i ml " Kate's glove is number six, and I think it 's a size too big," broke in the Colonel — we were all lying in the sun on a bank below the beeches at the time, and the Colonel was understood to be preparing a sermon for some meeting — " but it 's a strong little hand, and a steady ; she used to be able to strike a shilling in the air at revolver practice." " Cihost, lassie. Oh, in the Lodge, a Carnegie ghost — not one I've ever heard of; so you may sleep in peace, and I 'm below if you feel lonely the first night." " You are most insulting ; one would think 1 were a milksop. I was hoping for a ghost — a white lady by choice. Did no Carnegie murder his wife, for instance, through jealousy or quarrelling?" " The Carnegies have never quarrelled," said the General, with much simplicity ; " you see the men have generally been away fighting, and the women had never time to weary of them." " No woman ever wearies of a man unless he be a fool and gives in to her — then she grows sick of him. Life might be wholesome, but it would have no smack ; it would be like meat without mustard. If a man cannot rule, he ought not to marry, for his wife will play the fool in some fashion or other like a runaway horse, and he has half the blame. Why did he take the box-seat?" and Kate nodded to the fire. " What are you laughing at?" " Perhaps I ought to be shocked, but the thought of any one trying to rule you, Kit, tickles me immensely. I have had the reifis since you were a bairn, and you have been a handful. You were a 'smatchit ' at six years old, and a ' trimmie ' at twelve, and you are qualifying for the highest rank in your class." CONCERNING BESOMS. 6i "What may that be, pray? it seems to me that the Scottish tongue is a perfect treasure-house for imperti- nent people. How Scots must congratulate themselves that they need never be at a loss when they are angry or even simply frank." " If it comes to downright swearing, you must go to Gaelic," said the (ieneral, branching off. " Donald used to be quite contemptuous of any slight efforts at pro- fanity in the barrack yard, although they sickened me. ' Toots, Colonel ; ye do not need to be troubling your- self with such poor little words, for they are just nothing at all, and yet the bodies will be saying them over and over again like parrots. Now a Lochaber man coukl hef been saying what he wass wanting for fifteen minutes, and nefer hef used the same word twice, unless he had been forgetting his Gaelic. It 's a peautiful lan- guage, the Gaelic, when you will not be fery well pleased with a man.' " " That is very good, dad, but I think we were speak- ing in Scotch, and you have not told me that nice com- plimentary title I am living to deserve. Is ' cutty ' the disreputable word? for I think I've passed that rank already ; it sounds quite familiar." " No, it 's a (ixv more fetching word than * cutty,' or even than 'randy' (scold), which you may have heard." " I have," replied Kate instantly, " more than once, and especially after I had a difference in opinion with Lieutenant Strange. You called me one or two names then, dad — in fact you were quite eloquent ; but you know that he was a bad fellow, and that the regiment was well rid of him ; but I 'm older now, and I have not heard my promotion," I y- rspmmmmm 62 KATE CARNEGIE. " It 's the most vigorous word that ScOvS have for a particular kind of woman." " Describe her," demanded Kate. " One who has a mind of her own," began the General, carefully, " and a way, too, who is not easily cowed or managed, who is not . . ." '• A fool," suggested Kate. " Who is not conspicuously soft in manner," pursued the General, with discretion, *' who might even have a temper." " Not a tame rabbit, in fact. I understand what you are driving at, and I Icnow what a model must feel when she is being painted. And now kindly pluck uj) courage and name the picture." And Kate leant back, with her hand behind her head, challenging the General — if he dared. "Well?" " Besom." And he was not at all ashamed, for a Scot never uses this word without a ring of fondness and admiration in his voice, as of one who gives the world to understand that he quite disapproves of this audacious woman, wife or daughter of his, but is proud of her'all the time. It is indeed a necessity of his nature for a Scot to have husks of reproach containing kernels of compli- ment, so that he may let out his heart and yet preserve his character as an austere person, destitute of vanity and sentiment. "Accept your servant's thanks, my General. I am highly honoured." And Kate made a sweeping courtesy, whereupon they both laughed merrily ; and a log blazing up suddenly made an old Carnegie smile who had taken the field for Queen Mary, and was the very man to have delighted in a besom. "When 1 was here in June" — and the General CONCERNING BESOMS. 63 stretched himself in a deep red leather chair — "I stood a while one evening watching a fiiir-haired, blue-eyed little maid who was making a daisy chain and singing to herself in a garden. Her mother came out from the cottage, and, since she did not see me, devoured the child with eyes of love. Then something came into her mind — perhaps that the good man would soon be home for supper ; she rushed forward and seized the child, as if it had been caught in some act of mischief. ' Come into the hoose, this meenut, ye little bcesom, an' say yir carritches. What 's the chief end o' man? ' " "Could she have been so accomplished at that age?" Kate inquired, with interest. ''Are you sure about the term of endearment? Was the child visibly flattered ? " " She caught my eye as they passed in, and flung me a smile like one excusing her mother's fondness. But Davidson hears better things, for as soon as he appears the younger members of a family are taken from their porridge and set to their devotions. "'What are ye glowerin' at there, ye litUe cutty? Toom (empty) yir mooth this meenut and say the twenty-third Psalm to the minister.' " " Life seems full of incident, and the women make the play. What about the men? Are they merely a chorus?" " A stranger spending a week in one of our farm-houses would be ready to give evidence in a court of justice that he had never seen women so domineering or men so submissive as in Drumtochty. "And why? Because the housewife who sits in church as if butter would n't melt in her mouth speaks with much fluency and vigour at home, and the man i.i i: l;i ^^ 64 KATE CARNEGIE. says nothing. His normal state is doing wrong and being scolded from morning till night — for going out without his breakfast, for not cleaning his boots when he comes in, for spoiling chairs by sitting on them with wet clothes, for spilling his tea on the tablecloth, for going away to market with a dusty coat, for visiting the stable with his Sunday coat, for not speaking at all to visitors, for saying things he ought n't when he does speak — till the long- suffering man, raked fore and aft, rushes from the house in desperation, and outside remarks to himself, by way of consolation, ' Losh keep 's ! there 's nae livin' wi' her the day ; her tongue 's little better than a threshing-mill.' His confusion, however, is neither deep nor lasting, and in a few minutes he has started for a round of the farm in good heart, once or twice saying ' Sail ' in a way that shows a lively recollection of his wife's gifts." *' Then the men love to be ruled," began Kate, with some contempt ; " it does not give me a higher idea of the district. ** Wait a moment, young woman, for all that goes for' nothing except to show that the men allow the women to be supreme in one sphere." " In the dairy, I suppose? " "Perhaps; and a very pleasant kingdom, too, as I re- member it, when a hot, thirsty, tired laddie, who had been fishing or ferreting, was taken into the cool, moist, darkened place, and saw a dish of milk creamed for his benefit by some sonsy housewife, Sandie and I used to think her omnipotent, and heard her put the gude man through his facings with awe, but by-and-by we noticed that her power had limits. When the matter had to do with anything serious, sowing or reaping or kirk or market, his word was law. I !': , ( »> CONCERNING BKSOMS. 65 " He said little, but it was final, and she never con- tradicted ; it was rare to hear a man call his wife by name ; it was usually giide wife,' and she always referred to him as the ' maister.' And without any exception, these silent, reserved men were 'maister;' they had a look of authority." "They gave way in trifles, to rule in a crisis, which is just my idea of masculine government," expatiated Kate. " A woman likes to say what she pleases and have her will in little things ; she has her way, and if a man corrects her because she is inaccurate, and nags at her when she does anything he does not approve, then he is very foolish and very trying, and if she is not quite a saint, she will make him suffer. "Do you remember Dr. Pettigrew, that prim lit- tle effigy of a man, and his delightful Irish wife, and how conversation used to run when he was within hearing?" "Glad to have a tasting, Kit," and the General lay back in expectation. " ' Oi remember him, as foine an upstanding young officer as ye would wish to see, six feet in his boots.' "'About five feet ten, I believe, was his exact height, my dear.' " ' Maybe he was n't full grown then, but he was a good- looking man, and as pretty a rider as ever sat on a horse. Well, he was a Warwickshire man . . .' " * Bucks, he said himself.' *' ' He was maybe born in both counties for all you know.' " * Alethea,' with a cough and reproving look. " * At any rate Oi saw him riding in a steeplechase in the spring of '67, at Aldershot.' f ' ^ 66 KA'l'E CARXEGIE. " ' It must, T think, have ]H'Qn '66. \\V were at (libraltar in '67. I'lease be accurate.' " ' P.other your accuracy, ft)r ye are driving the pigs through my story. Well, ()i was telUng ye about tiie stee|)lechase Jimmy Brook rode. It was a mile, and he had led for half, and so he was just four hundred yards from the post.' " * A half would be eight himdred and eighty yards.' " ' Oi wish from my heart that geograjthy, arithmetic, memory, and accuracy, and every other work of Satan were drowned with Moses in the jd Sea. (lo, for any sake, and bring me a glass of irritated water.'" "Capital," cried the (General. "I heard that myself, or something like it. Pettigrew was a tiresome wretch, but he was devoted to his wife in his own way." " Which was enough to make a woman throw things at him, as very likely Alethea did when they were alone. What a fool he was to bother about facts ; the charm of Lithy was that she had none — dates anmm CHAPTI'lR Vr. A PLEASAUNCE. 1^1 HE General read Morning Pray- v«-i^^ov ^""^ "^ ^"^^f» omitting the Psalms j[\» W/ and lessons, and then after ^ '"' breakfast, with much gossip and ancient stories from Donald, the f:ither and daughter went out to survey their domain, and though there be many larger, yet there can be few more romantic in the north. That Carnegie had a fine eye and a sense of things who, out of all the Glen — for the Hays had little in Drumtochty in those days — fastened on the site of the Lodge and planted three miles of wood, birch and oak, and beech and ash, with the rowan tree, along the river that goes out and in seven times in that distance, so that his descendants might have a fastness for their habitation and their children might grow up in kindly woods on which the south sun beats from early spring till late autumn, and within the sight and sound of clean, running water. No wonder they loved their lonely home with tenacious hearts, and left it only because it was In their blood to be fighting. ul A PLEASAUNCE. 71 They had been out at Langside and Philiphaugh, in the '[5 and the '45, and ahvays on the losing side. The Lodge had never been long without a young widow and a fatherless lad, but family history had no warning for him — in fact, seemed ii'her to be an inspiration in the old way — for no sooner had t'v young laird loved and married than he would hear o^ ither rebellion, and ride off some morning to fight for that ill-fated dynasty whose love was ever another name for death. There was always a Carnegie ready as soon as the white cockade appeared anywhere in Scotland, and each of the house fought like the men before him, save that he brought fewer at his back and had less in his pocket. Little was left to the General and our Kate, and then came the great catas- trophe that lost them the Lodge, and so the race has now neither name nor house in Scotland, save in the vault in Drumtochty Kirk. It is a question whether one is wise to revisit any place whevQ he has often been in happier times and see it desolate. For me, at least, it was a mis- take, and the melancholy is still ui)on me. The deserted house falling at last to pieces, the over-grown garden, the crumbling paths, the gaping bridges over the little burns, and the loneliness, chilled one's soul. There was no money to spare in the General's time, but it is wonderful what one gardener, who has no hours, and works for love's sake, can do, even in a place that needed half a dozen. Then he was assisted unofficially by Donald, v.ho declared that working in the woods was " fery healthy and good for one or two small cuts I happened to ge in India," and Kate gave herself to the garden. The path by the river was kept in repair, and one never kn 'v when Kate might appear round the corner. Once I had come down from the cottage on a fine February day lo Wr wmmg^Bosammm sran 72 KATE CARNEGIE. ONE GARDENI'.R WHO . WORKS FOR I.OVE S SAKF. see the snowdrops in the sheltered nooks, for there were Httle dells white as snow at that season in Tochty woods, and Kate, hearing that 1 had passed, came of her kind- ness to take me back to luncheon. She had on a jacket i: A PLEASAUNCE. 73 of sealskin that we greatly admired, and a felt hat with three grouse feathers on the side, and round l-er throat a red satin scarf. The sun was shining on the bend of the path, and she came into the light singing " Jack o' Hazeldean," walking, as Kate ever did in song, with a swinging step like soldiers on a march. It seemed to me that day that she was Oorn to be the wife either of a noble or a soldier, and 1 still wish at times within my heart she were Countess of Kilspindie, for then the Lodge had been a fair sight to-day, and her father had died in his own room. And other times I have imagined myself Kilspin.lie, who was then Lord Hay, and ques- tioned whether I should have ordered Tochty to be dis- mantled and left a waste as it is this day, and would have gone away to the wars, or would not h ive loved to keep it in order for her sake, and visited it in the spring- time when the primroses are out, and the autumn when the leaves are blood-red. Then 1 declare that Hay, being of a brave stock, and having acted as a man of honour— for that is known to all now — ought to have put a good flice on his disappointment : but all the time I know one man who would have followed Lord Hay's suit, and who regrets that he ever again saw Tochty Lodge. " First of all," said the General as they sallied forth, " we shall go to the Beeches, and see a view for which one might travel many days, and pay a ransom." So they went out into the court with its draw-well, from which they must needs have a draught. Suddenly the General laid down the cup like a man in sudden i)ain, for he was thinking of Cawnpore, and they passed quickly through the gateway and turned into a path that wound among great trees that had been planted, it was said, by the Carnegie who rode with Montrose. They nwnBWBiw Pi 74 KATE CARNEGIE. were walking on a plateau stretching out beyond the line of the Lodge, and therefore commanding the Glen, if one had eyes to see and the trees were not in the way. Kate laid her hand on the General's arm beneath an ancient beech, and they stood in silence to receive the blessing of the place, for surely never is the soul so open to the voice of nature as by the side of running water and in the heart of a wood. The fretted sunlight made shifting figures of brightness on the i_,round ; above the innumerable leaves rustled and whispered ; a squirrel darted along a branch and watched the int»"-.' j with bright, curious eyes ; the rooks cawed from tu- distance ; the pigeons cooed in sweet, sad cadence close at hand. They sat down on the bare roots at their feet and yielded themselves to the genius of the forest — the god who will receive the heart torn and distracted by the fierce haste and unfinished labours and vain ambitions of life, and will lay its fever to rest and encompass it with the quietness of eternity. " Father," whispered Kate, after a while, as one wish- ing to share confidences, for there must be something to tell, " where are you? " "You wish to know? Well, all day I 've been fishing down the stream, and am coming home, very tired, very dirtV; very happy, and I meet m)' mother just outside those trees. I am boasting of the fish that I have caught, none of which, I'm sure, can be less than half a pound. She is r.iting me for my appearance and beseeching me to keep at a distance. Then 1 go liome and don;-? irtto the vaulted kitchen, where Janet's mother gives me joy- ous welcome, and produces dainties sav.^d .Uin din'.-:" for my eating. The trouts are now at biggest only a quarter of a pound, for they have to be cooked as a final A PLEASAUNCE. 75 . course, but those that were hooked and escaped are each a pound, except one in the hole below Lynedoch Bridge, which was two pounds to an ounce. Afterwards I make a brave attempt to rehearse the day in the gun- room to Sandie, who first taught me to cast a line, and fall fast asleep, and, being shaken up, sneak off to bed, creeping slowly up the stair, where the light is falling, to the little room above yours, where, as I am falling over, I seem to hear my mother's voice as in this sighing of the wind. Ah me, what a day it was ! And you, Kit?" " Oh, I was back in the convent with my nuns, and Sister Flora was trying to teach me English grammar in good French, and I was correcting her in bad French, and she begins to laugh because it is all so droll. ' I am Scotch, and I teach you English all wrong, and you tell me what I ought to say in French which is all wrong ; let us go into the garden,' for she was a perfect love, and always covered my fiiults. I am sitting in the arbour, and the Sister brings a pear that has fallen. ' I do not think it is wicked,' she says, and I say it is simply a duty to eat up fallen pears, and we laugh again. As we sit, they are singing in the chapel, and I hear 'Ave Maria, ora pro nobis.' Then I think of you, and the tears will come to my eyes, and I try to hide my fiice, but the Sister understands and comforts me. 'Your father is a gallant gentleman, and the good God pities you, and will keep him in danger,' and I fondle the Sister, and wonder whether any more pears have fallen. How peaceful it is within that high wall, which is rough and forbidding outside, but inside it is hung with green- ery, and among the leaves I see pears and peaches. Rut I missed you, dad," and Kate touched her father, for ■ ii U '?. t f: TW ^y- ii 76 KAri-: CARi\i«:c;iK. they had a habit of just touching each other gently when together. " Do you really think we have been in India, and that you have a dozen medals, and I am . . . an old maid?" " Certainly not, Kit, a mere invention — we are boy and girl, and . . . we '11 go on to the view." Suddenly they cp.me out from the shade into a narrow lane of light, where some one of the former time, with an eye and a soul, had clenred a passage tnnong the trees, so that one standing at the inner end and looking outwards could see the whole Glen, while the outstretched branches of the beeches shaded his eyes. Morning in the sum- mer-time about five o'clock was a favourable hour, be- cause one might see the last mists lift, and the sun light up the face of TJen Urtach, and evening-tide was better, because the Glen showed wonderfully tender in the soft light, and the Grampians were covered with glory. But it was best to take your first view towards noon, for then you could trace the Tochty upwards as it appeared and reappeared, till it was lost in woods at the foot of Glen Urtach, with every spot of interest on either side. Below the kirk it ran broad and shallow, with a bank of brushwood on one side and a meadow on the other, fringed, with low bushes from behind which it was possible to drop a fly with some prospects of success, while in quite unprotected situations the Drumtochty fish laughed at the tempter, and departed with con- temptuous whisks of the tail. Above the haughs was a little mill, wher** flax was once spun and its iade still remained, running between the Tochty and the steep banks down which the glen descended to the river. (Opposite this mill the Tochty ran with strength, escap- ing from the narrows of the bridge, and there it was that A PLEASAUNCE. 77 VVeelum MrJcLure drove across Sir (leorge in safety, be- cause the l)ridge was not for use that day. Whether that bridge was really built by Marshall Wade in his great work of pacifying the Highlands is very far from certain, but Drumtochty did not relish any trilling with its traditions, and had a wonderful pride in its solitary bridge, as well it might, since from the Beeches nothing could well be more picturesque. Its plan came nearly to an inverted V, and the apex was just long enough to allow the horses to rest after the ascent, before they precipitated themselves down the other side. During that time the driver leant on the ledge, and let his eye run down the river, taking in the Parish Kirk above and settling on the Lodge, just able to be seen among the trees where the 'I'ochty below turned round the bend. What a Drumtochty man thought on such occasions he never told, but you might have seen even Whinnie nod his head with emjjhasis. 'J'he bridge stood up clear of banks and woods, grey, uncompromising, unconventional, yet not without some grace of its own in its hj^h arch and abrupt descents. One with good eyes and a favour- ing sun could see the water running unlace and covered it from every wind except the south, and the sun was ever bless- ing it. 'J'here was one summer-house, a mass of honey- suckle, and there they sat down as those that had come back to Kden from a wander year, 6 ' IMAGE EVALUATrON TEST TARGET (MT-3) «^i # ■% f/j y, 1.0 I.I il.25 u 2.0 1.8 M. IIIIIM Photographic Sciences Corporation ^^ N> V^.. eir leaves. Then the river would make a sweej) and forsake its bank, leaving a peninsula of alluvial land between, where the geranium and the hyacinth ami the iris grew in deep, moist soil. One of these was almost clear of wood and carpeted .vith thick, soft turf, and the river beside it was broad and shining. "We shall go down here," said ihe General, "and I will show you something that I count the finest monn-i ment in Perthshire, or maybe in broad Scotland," A Pr.KASAUXCE. »3 In the centre of the sward, with trees just touching it with the tips of their branches, was a httle scjuare, with a simple weather-beaten raihng. An.l the (;cn- eral led Kate to the spot, and stood for a wiiilc in silence. • "Two young Scottish lassies, Kate, who died two hundred years ago, and were buried here, and this is the ballad — •" Bessie Bell and Mary Grey They wtiie twa bonnie lassies, Tliey i)ig'^nt a hoose on yonder brae And theikit it ower wi' raslies.' " Then the General and Kate sat down by tlie river edge, and he told her the deathless story, — how in the plague of 1666 they fled to this district to escape infec- tion , how a lover came to visit one of them and brought deat'i in his kiss; how they sickened and died; how they were laid to rest beside the Tochty water ; and gen- erations have made their i)iigrimage to the place, so wonderful and beautiful is love. They loved, and their memory is immortal. Kate rested her chin on her hand and gazed at the running water, wh.ich continued while men and women live and love and die. ''He ought not to have C(jme ; it was a cowardly, selfish act, but I suppose," added the General, "he could not keep away.*' " Be sure she thought none the less of him for his com- ing, and I think a woman will count life itself a small sacrifice for love," and Kate went over to the grave. A thrush was singing as they turned to g(?, and noth- ing was said ou the way liome till they came near the Lodge, r wjj^miiuim'immmamamBsmmgHi m 8d K.vrr: carnkgtk. " Who can that be going in, Kate ? He seems a padre." •'* I do not know, luiless it be our fellow traveller from Muirtown ; but he has been redressing himself, and is not imi)rovcd. " Father," and Kate stayed the General, as they crossed the threshold of their home, " we have seen many beautiful things to-day, for which 1 thank you ; but the greatest was love." CHAPTER Vir. A WOMAN OF THE NEW DISPENSATION. '..-■^i^' ■VRMICI IAEi;S aunt, who equip- ^ ped his house, was detcrniincd on one point, and would not hear of a clerical housekeeper for her laddie. Margaret Meik- lewhain — a woman of a severe countenance, and filled with the spirit of the Disruption — who had gov- erned the minister of Titscowrie till his / decease, and had been the terror of callow I young probationers, offered herself, and gave instances of her capability. " Gin ye leave yir nephew in my hands, ye needna hae ony mair concern. A '11 manage him Hne, an' hand him on the richt road. Ye may lippen tae 't, a' wesna five and thirty year wi' Maister MacWheep for naethin'. " He vves a wee fractious and self-willed at the off-jro. an' wud be wantin' this an' that for his denner, but he sune learned tae tak' what wes pit afore him ; an' as for gaein' oot withoot tellin' me, he wud as sune hae thocht o' fleein' ; when he cam' in he keepit naethin' back at his tea. « ft! ' 86 KA'IK ( AKXI'dlE. fii " Preachin' wfs kittU- wark in I'itscoorie, for the fouk were awfu' creetics, though they di(Uia maybe think sae inuckle o' themselves as Drumtochty. A' aye githered their jidgment through the week, an' gin he hed made a slip meddling \vi' warks or sic-like in his sermon, it wes pit richt next Sabbath, and sovereignty whuppit in at the feenish. "Ye ken the Auld Kirk lies tae be watchit like a cat vvi' a moose, an' though a' say it as sudna, Maister Mac- Wheep wud hae made a p'lir job o' the business himsel*. The pairish meenister wes terrible plausible, an' askit oor man tae clenner afore he wes settled in his poopit, an' he wes that simple, he wud hae gaen," and Margaret indi- cated by an uplifting of her eyebrows the i)itiable inno- cence of MacWheep. "Ye guidit him, nae doot?" incjuired Carmichael's aunt, with interest. " ' Maister MacWheep,' says I," and Miss Meikle- wham's lips were very firm, " * a '11 no deny that the Auld Kirk is Christian, an' a've never said that a Mod- erate cudna be savit, but the less trokin' (trafficking) ye hae wi' them the better, 'inhere 's maybe naethin' wrang wi' a denncr, but the next thing '11 be an exchange o' poopits, and the day ye dae that ye may close the Free Kirk.' " And the weemen " — here the housekeeper paused as one still lost in amazement at the audacity with which ihey had waylaid the helpless MacWheep — "there wes ae madam in Muirtown that hed the fiice tae invite her- sel' oot tae tea wi' three dochters, an' the way they wud flatter him on his sermons wes shamefu'. " If they didna begin askin' him tae stay wi' them on Presbytery days, and Mrs. MacOmish hed the face tae I :. A WOMAN OF Tin: \i:\v nispFA'svnoN. ^-j peety him \vi' naebody but a hoosekccpcr. lie lat oot tae nie though that the potatoes were as hard as a stone at (lenner, an' that he hed juist ae blanket on his bed, which wesna great management for four weemen." As Carmichael's aunt seemed to be more and more impressed, Margaret moistened her lips and rose higher. "So the next time ma hidy comes oot tae see the spring flowers," she said, "a' explained that the minister vves sae delicate that a' didna coont it richt for him tae change his bed, and a' thocht it wud be mair comfortable for him tae come hame on the I'resbytery nichts, an' safer. " What said she? No a word," and Miss Meiklewham recalled the ancient victory with relish. " She lookit at me, and a' lookit at her, an' naething passed ; but that wes the laist time a' saw her at the manse. A 've hed experience, and a 'm no feared tae tak' chairge o' yir nephew." Carmichael's aunt was very deferential, comijHmenting the eminent woman on her gifts and achievements, and indicating that it would be hard for a young Free Kirk minister to obtain a better guardian ; but she had already made arrangements with a woman from the south, and could not change. Drumtochty was amazed at her self-will, and declared by the mouth of Kirsty Stewart that Carmichael's aunt had flown in the face of Providence. Below her gentle simplicity she w^^s however a shrewd woman, and was quite determined that her nephew should not be handed over to the tender mercies of a clerical housekeeper, who is said to be a heavier yoke than the Confession of Faith, for there be clever ways of escape from con- fessions, but none from Margaret Meiklewham; and t R5* 88 KATF CARXlXilE. while all the churches are busy every year in explaining that their Articles do not mean what they say, Miss Meiklewham had a snort which was beyond all she said, and that was not by any means rostrictetl. '* John," said Carniichael's aunt, one day after they had been buying carpets, " i 've got a housekeeper for you that will keep you comfortable and can hold her tongue," but neither then nor afterwards, neither to her nephew nor to Drumtochty, did Carmichael's aunt tell where she secured Sarah. " That 's my secret, John," she used to say, with much roguishness, " an' ye maun confess that there 's ae thing ye dinna ken. Ye '11 hae the best-kept manse in the Presbytery, an' ye '11 hae nae concern, sae be content." Which he was, and asked no cjuestions, so that he knew no more of vSarah the day she left than the night she arrived ; and now he sometimes speculates about her history, but he has no clue. She was an event in the life of the parish, and there are those who speak of her unto this day with exaspera- tion. The new housekeeper was a subject of legitimate though ostentatiously veiled curiosity, and it was ex- pected that a full biography by Elspeth Macfadyen would be at the disposal of the kirkyard, as well as the Free Kirk gate, within ten days of her arrival ; it might even be on the following Sabbath, although it was felt that this was asking too much of Elspeth. It vvas on the Friday evening Mrs. Macfadyen called, with gifts of butter and cream for the minister, and was received with grave, silent courtesy. While they played with the weather, the visitor made a swift examination, and she gave the results on Sabbath for what they were worth. A woman: of TFiK \K\V DISPI^XSATIOX. 89 "A tall, black wumiiian, spare an' erect, no ill-faured nor ill-made ; na, na, a '11 alloc that ; a trig, handy cum- mer, wi' an eye like a liawk an' a voice like pussy; nane o' yir gossipin', haverin', stravaigin' kind. He 'II be clever 'at gets onything out o' her or maks much o' a bargain wi' her. " Sail, she 's a madam an' nae mistak'. If that waefu', cunnin', tramping wratch Clockie didna come tae the' door, where I was sittin', an' askit for the new minister. Ye ken he used tae come an' hear Maister Cunningham on the princii)les o' the Disruption for an 'oor, givin' oot that he wes comin' roond tae the Free Kirk view; then he got his denner an' a suit o' claithes." " A' mind o' Clockie gettin' five shillin's ae day," re- marked Jamie Soutar, who was at the Free Kirk that morning ; " he hed started Dr. Chalmers wi' the minis- ter; Dr. Guthrie he coontit to be worth aboot half-a- croon; but he aince hed three shillin's oot o' the Cardross case. He wes graund on the doctrine o' speeritual independence, and terrible drouthy ; but a 'm interruptin' ye, Elspeth." "'The minister is at dinner,' says she, ' and can't be disturbed ; he sees no one at the door.' *'*It's reeligion a 'm come aboot,' says Clockie, stickin' in his foot tae keep the door open, an' a'lljuist wait at the fire.' "'It's more likely to be whisky from your breath, and you will find a public-house in the village ; we give' nothing to vagrants here.' Then she closed the door on his foot, and the language he used in the yard wesna connectit wi' reeligion." Drumtochty admitted that this showed a woman of vigour — although our conventions did not allow us to 1 '!■ 1 4 ; f ) ^ ; • 'r it ■''«' ■PHI 90 KAiK CAkM«:(;ii:. ji If treat Clockie or any known wastrel so masterfully — and there was an evident anxiety to hear more. " Her dress wes black an' fittit like a glove, an' vves set aff wi' a collar an' cuffs, an' a' saw she hedna come frae the country, so that wes ae thing settled ; yt)n 's either a toon dress or maybe her ain makin' frae i)atterns. " It micht be l^dinburgh or (llesgie, but a' began tae jalouse llngland aifter hearin' her hannel Clockie, sae a' watchit for a word tae try her tongue." " Wurk is a gude handy test," suggested Jamie ; " the r'nglish hae barely ae r, and the Scotch hae aboot sax in't." " She wudna sny 't, Jamie, though a' gied her a chance, speakin' aboot ae wumman. daein' a'thing in the inanse, sae a' fell back on church, an' that brocht oot the truth. She didna say * chich,' so she 's no English born, and she didna say * churrrch,' so she 's been oot o' Scotland. It wes half and between, and so a' said it wud be pleas- ant for her tae be in her ain country again, aifter livin' in the sooth." Her hearers indicated that Hlspeth had not fallen be- neath herself, and began to wonder how a woman who had lived in J.ondon would fit into Drumtochty. " What div ye think she said tae me? " Then Drum- tochty understood that there had been an incident, and that Elspeth as a conversationalist, if not as a racon- teur, had found her equal. " ' You are very kind to think of my movements, but' " — and here INTrs. Macfcidyen spoke verv slowly — " ' I'm afraid they don't teach home geography at your school. Paisley is not out of Scotland.' " " Ye 've met yir match, P^lspeth," said Jamie, with a hoarse chuckle, and the situation was apparent to all. A WOMAN OF 'rilK \r:\V DISIM'NSATION. 91 It was evident that the m-w house keeper was iniinled to hide her past, and the ( hoiee of her last residence was a stroke of diabohcal t,'enius. Paisley is an an( iiiit town inhabited l)y a virtuous and inchistrie-is people, wiuj u>ed to make shawls and now spin thread, and the atmosphere is so Uterary that it is beheved every tenth man is a poet. Yet people do not boast of having been born there, and natives will pretend they came frcjm (Jreenock. No one can mention I'aisley without a smile, an of such a place, settle on it every good tale that is goii.g about the world un- provided for and fatherless. So a name comes to be bathed in the ridiculous, and a mere reference to it passes for a stroke of supreme ftlicity. "Paisley" — Jamie again tasted the idea- -"she '11 be an acqueesition tae the (ilen." It was Sarah's first stroke of character to arrive vith- out notice— having ut rly baffled Peter at the Juncticn --and to be in complete i>ossession of the manse on the return of Carmichael and his aunt from ])astoral visits. "Sarah," cried the old lady in amazement at the • sight of the housekeeper in full miiform, calm and self- possessed, as one having been years in this place, " when did ye come? " "Two hours ago, m'am, and I think I understand the house. Shall I bring tea into the dining-room, or would you rather have it in the study? " Hut she did not once glance past his aunt to Carmichael, who was gazing in Si f . f-1 4 r " ■ \ - •"TT- 9« kATK CARNIXHi:. silence at this composed young woman in the door- way. " This is Sarah, John, who hes come to keep yir house," and his aunt stepped back. *• Sarah, this is my dear laddie, the minister." Perhaps because her eyes were of a flashing black that pierced one like a steel blade, Sarah usually looked down in speaking to you, but now shr gave ("armichael one swift, comprehensive look that judged him soul and body, then her eyes fell, and her face, always too hard and keen, softened. " I will try, sir, to make you comfortable, and you will tell me anything that is wrong." " Vou took us by surprise, Sarah," and Carinichael, after his hearty fashion, seized his housekeeper's hand ; " let me bid you welcome to the manse. I hojic yt>u will be happy here, and not feel lonely." liut the housekeeper only bowed, and turned to his aimt. ** Dinner at six? As you were not in, and it did not seem any use consulting the woman that was here, I am preparing for that hour." •' Well, ye see, Sarah, we have just been taking tea, with somethin."' to it, but if — " "Gentlemen prefer evening dinner, ma'am." "Quite right, Sarah," burst in Carmichael in great glee ; " tea-dinner is the most loathsome meal ever in- vented, and we '11 never have it in the Free Manse. " That is an admirable woman, auntie," as Sarah dis- appeared, " with sound views on important subjects. I 'U never ask again wherv) she came from ; she is her own testimonial." " You mauna be extravagant, John ; .Sarah hes never seen a manse before, and I must tell her not to — " J A WOMAN* OK Tin-: NFAV DISIM-XS A'rinX. r,; '• Kuiii me, do you mean, by ten rourses every evening, like the dinners West-end philanthropists used to give our men to show them hcnv to behave at table? We 11 be very economical, only having meat twice a week — salt fi.-ih the other days — but it will always be dinner." •'What ails you at tea-dinner, John? it's very tasty and homely." •' It's wicked, auntie, and has done more injury to re- ligion than drinking. No, I 'm not joking — that is a childish habit — but giving utterance to profound trtith, which ought to be jiroclaimed on the house-tops, or per- haps in the kitchens. "Let nie explain, and I '11 ma!:e it as plain as day — all heresy is just b;:-' thinking, an. I that comes from bad health, and the foundation of hle is a man. When Sarah proposed to Carmichacl that she should prepare breakfast after he rung for his hot water, and when he never caught a hint of reproach on her face though he sat up till three and came down at eleven, he was lifted, hardly believing that such humanity couUl be found among women, who always seem to have a time table they are carrying out the livelong day. "The millennium is near at hand, ' said MacQueen, when the morning arrangements of the Free Kirk manse of Drumtochty were made known to him — MacQueen, who used to arrive without so much as a nightshirt, hav- ing left a trail of luggage behind him at var-ous junc- tions, and has written books so learned that no one dares to say that he has not read them. Then he placed an ounce of shag handy, and Carmichael stoked the fire, and they sat down, with Beaton, who could refer to the Summa of St. Thomas Aquinas from beginning to end, and they discussed the Doctrine of Scripture in the F'athers, and the formation of the Canon, and the author- ship of the Pentateuch till two in the study. Afterwards they went to MacQuecn's room to hear him on the Tal- mud, and next adjourned to Beaton's room, who offered a series of twelve preliminary observations on the Theol- ogy of Rupert of Deutz, whereupon his host promptly put out his candle, leaving that man of supernatural memory to go to bed in the dark ; and as Carmichael I F7f" M lOO KATE CARNEGli:. I; * li • i f i:!| 111* i pulled up the blip'l in his own room, the day was break- ing and a blackhinl had begun to sing. Next afternoon iieaton had resumed his observations on Rui)ert, but now they were lying among the heather on the side of (Jlen Urtach, and Carmichael was asleep, while MacQueen was thinking that they would have a good appetite for dinner that evening. Sarah had only one fault to find with her master, and that was his llohemian dress ; but since it pleased him to go one button less through studied carelessness, she let him have his way ; and as for everything else, she kept her word to his aunt, and saw that he wanted for nothing, serving him with perpetual thoughtfulness and swift capacity. Little passed between them except a good-natured word or two from him and her courteous answer, but she could read him as a book, and when he came home that day from Muirtown she saw he was changed. He was slightly flushed, and he could not sit still, wandering in and out his study till dinner-time. He allowed the soup to cool, and when she came in with sweets he had barely touched his cutlet. " It is the sauce you like, sir," with some reproach in her voice. " So it is, Sarah — and first rate." Then he added suddenly, "Can you put a button on this coat to-night, and give it a good brush?" In the evening Sarah went down to post a letter, and heard the talk, how Miss Carnegie had come home with the Oeneral, and was worthy of her house ; how the minister also had driven up with her from Muirtown ; and on her return she did her best by the coat, handling it very kindly, and singing softly to herself " Robin Adair." i. t A WOMAN UF THE iNKW DiSPK NSAilON. loi Next morning he came down in his blacks — the worst-made suit ever seen on a man, ordered to help a village tailor at his home —■ and announced his mtention of starting after lunch for Saunderson's manse, beyond Tochty woods, where he would stay all night. " He will call on the way tlown, and, if he can, com- ing back," Sarah said to herself, as she watched him go, "but it's a p.ty he should go in such a coat; it might have been put together with a pitchfork. It only makes the difference greater, and 't is wider than he knows already. And yet a woman can marry beneath her with- out loss; but for a man it is ruin." She went up to his room and made it neat, which was ever in disorder on his leaving, and then she went to a western window and looked into the far distance. ii t il h' m |i- I ■■ » •I; I I Lii I CHAFFI-R VTIT. ii 1 1 |U;| i' i' ! A WOMAN OF HIE OLD DlSl'LNSA I'lON. \'1:RV Sabbath at eleven o'clock, or as soon there- after as the people were seated — consideration was always shown to dis- tant figures coming down from the high glen — Car- michael held what might f''3" be called High Mass in the l-'ree Kirk. Nothing was used in ])raise but the Psalms of David, with an occasional Paraphrase sanctioned by usage and sound teaching. The prayers were expected to be elaborate in expression and careful in statement, and it was then that they prayed for the Queen and Houses of Parliament. And the sermon was the event to which the efforts of the minister and the thoughts of the people had been mov- ing for the whole week. No person was absent except through sore sickness or urgent farm duty ; nor did rain or snow reduce the congregation by more than ten people, very old or very young. Carmichael is now minister of a West End kirk, and, it is freely rumoured A WOMAN OF Till': OLD DISPENSATION. 103 in Drumtochty, has preached before Lords of vSession ; but he has never been more nervous than facing that handful of quiet, inii)enclrable, critical faces in his first kirk. When the service v s over, the people broke into little bands that disappeared along the west road, and over the moor, and across the Tochty. Carniichael knew each one was reviewing his sernion head by head, and, pacing his garden, he remembered the missing points with dismay. It was the custom of the Free Kirk minister to go far afield of a smumer evening, and to hold informal ser- vices in distant parts of the parish. This was the joy of the day to him, who was really very young and hate" pleaded Carmichael ; - this is a great grief, but I hope you have consolations." "Yes, I will be having many consolations; they both died like brave men with their face to the enemy 'I'here were six that did not feel fery well before Ian fell • he could do good work with the sword as well as the bayonet, and he wass not bad with the dirk at a time." Neither this woman nor her house were like anything in Drumtochty, for in it there was a buffet for dishes and a carved chest and a large chair, all of old black oak ; and above the mantelpiece two broadswords were crossed, with a circle of war medals beneath on a velvet ground, flanked by two old pistols. " I suppose those arms have belonged to your p ople, Mrs. Macpherson ; may I look at them ? " Hi lid RATE CAkXEC.lK. V i mu " They ?re not anything to he admiring, and it wass not manners that I should hef been boasting of my men. It iss a pleasant evening and good for walking." "You were at the meeting, I think?" and Carmichael tried to got nearer this iron woman. " We were sorrj, you had to go out before the end. Did you not feel at home? " " I will not be accustomed to the theatre, and I am not liking it instead of the church." " But surely there was nothing worse in my singing alone than praying aione?" and Carmichael began to argue like a Scotsman, who always fancies that people can be convinced by logic, and forgets that many people, Celts in especial, are ruled by their heart and not by their head ; " do you see anything w-rong in one praising God aloud in a hymn, as the Virgin Mary did?" " It iss the Virgin Mary you will be coming to next, no doubt, and the Cross and the Mass, like the Catholics, although I am not saying anything against them, for my mother's cousins four times removed were Catholics, and fery good people. But I am a Presbyterian, and do not want the Virgin Mary." Carmichael learned at that moment what it was to argue with a woman, and he was to make more discover- ies in that department before he came to terms with the sex, and would have left in despair had it not been for an inspiration of his good angel. " Well, Mrs. Macpherson, I did n't come to argue about hymns, but to bid you welcome to the Glen and to ask fo • a glass of water, for preaching is thirsty work." " It iss black shame I am crying on myself for sitting here and offering you neither meat nor drink," and she A WOMAN OF THE OLD DISPKXSATION. in was stung with regret in in instant. " It iss a little spirits you will be tasting, and this iss Talisker which I will be keeping for a friend, for whisky iss not for women." She was full of attention, but when Carmichael took milk instead of whisky, her suspicions revived, and she eyed him again. '' You are not one of those new people I am hear- ing of in the Lowlands that are wiser than the ferv Apostles?" ^ "What people?" and Carm;chael trembled for his new position. "'Total abstainers' they will call tliemselves," and the contempt in her accent was wonderful. "No, I am not," Carmichael hastened to reassure his hostess ; '' but there are worse people than abstainers in the world, and it would be better if we had a few more. I will stick to the milk, if you please." " You will take what vou please," and she was again ..iolhfied; ««but the great ministers always had their tasting after preaching; nml I hef hrard one of them say that it was-; a sin to despise the Lord's mercies. You will be taking another glass of milk and resting :i litde." ^ " This hospitality reminds me of my mother, Mrs. Macpherson." Carmichael was still inspired, a-d was* indeed, now in full sail. " She was a Higiiland woman,' and had the Gaelic. She sometimes called me Inn instead of John." "When you wass preaching about the shepherd find- ing the sheep, I wass wondering how you had the way to the heart, and I might have been thinking, oh yes, I might hef known" — all the time Janet was ever bringing something new out of the cupboard, though I 1 $fl n§' i 112 KATK CARNEGIE. Carmichael only sipped the milk. " And what wass vour mother's name?" " Farquharson ; her peoi)le came from Brae mar ; but they are all dead now, and I am the last of the race." "A good clan," cried Janet, in great spirits, " and a loyal ; they were out with the Macphersons in the '45. Will you happen to know whether your ancestor suffered? " " That he did, for he shot an English officer dead on his doorstep, and had to flee the country ; it was not a pretty deed." "Had the officer broken bread with him?" inquired Janet, anxiously. " No, he had come to quarter himself and his men on him, and said something rude about the Prince." " Your ancestor gave him back his word like a gentle- man ; but he would maybe hef to stay away for a while. Wass he of the chief's blood? " " Oh no, just a little laird, and he lost his bit of land, and we never saw the place again." " He would be a Dunniewassal, and proud it iss I am to see you i 1 my house; and the Gaelic, will you hef some words? " " Just the sound of it, Mrs. Macphcrson," and he re- peated his three sentences, all that he had learned of his mother, who had become a Scotswoman in her speech. " Call me Janet, my dear ; and it iss the good Gaelic your mother must have had, and it makes my heart glad to think my minister iss a Farquharson, by the mother's side." " We sing nothing but Psalms at church, Mrs. . . . Janet, so you will be pleased, and we stand to pray and sit to sing." in A WOMAN OF THE OLD DISPENSATION. 113 "Tuts, tuts, I am not minding about a bit hime at a time from a friend, but it iss those Lowlanders meddling with everything I do not \'\ke, and I am hoping to hear you sing again, for it wass a fery pretty tune ; " and the smith, passing along the road when Carmichaal left that evening, heard Janet call him " my dear," and invoke a thousand blessings on his head. When he called again in the end of the week to cement the alliance and secure her presence on Sabbath, Janet was poliphing the swords, and was willing enough to give their history. " This wass my great-grandfather's, and these two nicks in the 'jlade were made on the dragoons at Prestonpans ; and this wass my husband's sword, for he wass sergeant-major before he died, a fery brave man, good at the fighting and the praying too. ** Maybe I am wrong, and I do not know what you may be thinking, but things come into my mind when I am reading the Bible, and I will be considering that it wass maybe not so good that the Apostles were fish- ing people." ' " What ails you at fishermen, Janet? " " Nothing at all but one thing ; they are clever at their nets and at religion, but I am not hearing that they can play with the sword or the dirk. " It wass a fery good intention that Peter had that night, no doubt, and I will be liking him for it wnen he took his sword to the policeman, but it wass a mighty poor blow. If Ian or his father had got as near as that, it would not have been an ear that would have been missing." ** Perhaps his head," suggested Carmichael. " He would not have been putting his nose into honest 8 I m I I ^ pr^ 114 KATE CARNEGIE. I I ' 1 ' * 1 1! ' i ll j 8 i - .1; i , ' 1 i : II ' ; li 1 ,' ■ 1 , 1 « h 1 • ■ f II i Mil people's business agcii ., at any rate," and Janet nodded her head as one who could see a downright blow that left no regrets ; " it hass always made me ashamed to read about that ear. " It wass not possible, and it iss maybe no good speak- ing about it now" — Janet felt she had a minister now she could open her mind to — •' but it would hef been better if our Lord could hef had twelve Macphersons for His Apostles." ^ " You mean they would have been more brave and faithful ? " " There wass a price of six thousand pounds, or it might be four, put on Clnny's head after CuUoden, and the English soldiers were all up and down the country, but I am not hearing that any clansman betrayed his chief. " Thirty pieces of silver wass a fery small reward for such a dirty deed, and him one of the Chief's tail too; it wass a mistake to be trusting to fisher folk instead of Glen's men. "There iss something I hef wished," concluded Janet, who seemed to have given her mind to the whole inci- dent, " that Peter or some other man had drawn his skean-dhu and slippit it quietly into Judas. We would hef been respecting him fery much to-day, and it would hef been a good lesson — oh yes, a fery good lesson — to all traitors." As they got more confidential, Janet began to speak of signs and dreams, and Carmichael asked her if she had the second sight. " No ; it iss not a lie I will be telling you, my dear, nor will I be boasting. 1 have not got it, nor had my mother, but she heard sounds, oh yes, and knew what wass coming to pass. A WOMAN OF THE OLD DISPENSATION. 115 (( ' Janet,' she would say, ' I have heard the knock three times at the head of the beil ; it will be vour Uncle Alister, and I must go to see him before he dies,'" "And was she — "' " Oh yes, she wass in time, and he wass expecting her ; and once she saw the shroud begin to rise on her sister, Imt no more ; it never covered the flice before her eyes ; l)ut the knock, oh yes, many times." " Have you known anv one tiiat could tell what was hai)pening at a distance, and gave warning of danger?" for the latent Celt was awakening in Carmichael, with his love of mystery and his sense of the unseen. '* Listen, my dear " — Janet lowered her voice as one speaking of sacred things — "and I will tell you of Ina Macpherson, who lived to a hundred and two, and had the vision clear and sure. '* In the great war with Russia I wass staying in the clachan of my people, antl then seven lads of our blood were with the Black Watch, and every Sabbath the minister would pray for them and the rest of the lads from Badenoch that were away at tiie fighting. " One day Ina came into my sister's house, and she said, 'It iss danger that I am seeing,' an 1 my heart stood still in my bosom for fear that it wass my own man Hamish. " * No,' and she looked at me, ' not yet, and not to- day,' but more she would not fay about him. * Is it my son Ronald?' my sister cried, and Ina only looked before her. * It's a sore travail, and round a few black tartans I see many men in grey, pressing them hard ; ochone, ochone.' " * It 's time to pray,' I said, and there wass a man in • 4 i ii6 KA'YK CARXi:(]Ii:. the clachan that wass mighty in prayer, and we gathered into his kitchen, four and twenty women and four men, and every one had a kinsman in the field. " It iss this minute that I hear Dugald crying to the Almighty, * Remember our lads, and be their help in the (lay of battle, and give them the necks of their enemies,' and he might be wrestling for half an hour, when Ina rose from her knees and said, • The prayer is answered, for the tartans have the field, and I see blood on Ronald, but it is not his own.'" " And did vou ever hear — " "Wait, my dear, and I will tell you, for the letter came from my ne])hew, and this is what he wrote : " * It wass three to one, and the gloom came on me, for I thought that I would never see Olenfeshie again, nor the water of the loch, nor the deer on the side of the hill. Then I wass suddenly strengthened with all might in the inner man, and it iss five Russians that I hef killed to my own hands.' " And so it wass, and a letter came from his captain, who wass of Cluny's blood, and it will be read in church, and a fery proud woman wass my sister." These were the stories that Janet told to her minister in the days before the Carnegies came home, as well as afterwards, and so she prepared him to be an easier prey to a soldier's daughter. •- f' i , CHAPTKR IX. A DAUGHTKR OF DIIHATF.. IlI'A' nicl under tlic arch of the Ljate, and C'arniichael re- turned with the Carnegies, y Kate making much of him and insisting that he should stay to kmcheon. " Vou are our first visitor, Mr. Carmichael, and the (ieneral savs that we need not expect more than six, so we mean to be very kind to them. Do you hve far from here?" " (^uite near — just two miles west. I hai)i)ened to be passing ; in f ict, I 'm go- ing down to the next parish, and I ... I thought that I would like to call 'xwd . . . and bid you welcome;" for Carmichael had not yet learned the art of conversa- tion, which stands mainly in touching details lightly and avoiding the letter I. " It is very cruel of you to be so honest and dispel our flattering illusions " — Kate marvelled at his mendacity — "we supposed you had come ' anes errand' — I'm picking up Scotch — to call on your new neighbours. Does the high road pass the Lodge?" •^df ' »«- 31 ii8 KA'IK ( AkNIXlIK. . : i 1 .J : n s ^ i\\ * 1 * \l k ■h, "Oh no; the road is fight iiiik-s further; but the l>riimlochty peoplr take tlir near way thrt)Ugh the woods ; it 's also much prettier. 1 hope you will not forbid us, General? two people a week is all the traffic." '* JMjrbid them — not I," said Carnegie, laughing. "A man is not born and bred in this parish without learning some sense. It would be a right of way case, and Drum- tochty would follow me fto.ii court to court, and wcjuld never rest till they had gained or we were all ruined. " Has it ever struck you, Mr. Carmichael, that one of the differences between a Highlander and a Scot is that each has got a pet enjoyment? With the one it 's a feuti, and with the other it 's a lawsuit. A Scot dearly loves a * ganging ])lea.' " No, no ; Tochty woods will be open so long as Kate and I have anything to say in the matter. The Glen and our people have not had the same politics, but we 've lived at peace, as neighbours ought to do, with never a lawsuit even to give a fillij) to life." "So you see, Mr. Carmichael," said Kate, "you may come and go at all times through our territory ; but it would be bare courtesy to call at the Lodge for afternoon tea. "Or tiffin," suggested the General; "and we can always offer curry, as you see. My daughter has a capital recipe she wiled out of an old Hindoo rascal that cooked for our mess. You really need not take it on that account," as Carmichael was do- ing his best in much misery ; " it is only meant to keep old Indians in fair humour — not to be a test of good manners. By the way, Janet has been sounding your praises ; how have you won her heart?" A DAl'dHIKR OF DKBATE. 119 ** Oh, very easily — by having some drops of High- land blood in my veins ; and so 1 am forgiven all my faults, and am credited with all sorts of excellences." "Then the Ilighhuulers are as clannish as ever," cried the (ieneral. "Scotland has changed so much in the last half century that the Highlanders might have become quite unsentimental and matter-of-fact. " Lowland civilisation only crossed the Highland line after '45, and it will take more than a hundred and thirty years to recast a Celt. Scottish education and theology are only a veneer on him, and below he has all his old instincts. " So far as I can make out, a Celt will rather fish than plough, and be a gamekeei)er than a workman ; but if he be free to follow his own way, a genuine Highlander would rather be a soldier than anything else under the sun." "What belter could a man be?" and Kate's eyes sparkled ; " they must envy the old times when their fathers raided the Lowlands and came home with the booty. It 's a pity everybody is so respectable now, don't you think?" " Certainly the police are very meddlesome," and Carmichael now devoted himself to Kate, w'thout pre- tence of including the General ; " but the spirit is not dead. A Celt is the child of generations of cattle- stealers, and the raiding spirit is still in the blood. May I offer an anecdote? " " Six, if you have got so many, and they are all about Highlanders," and Kate leant forward and nursed her knee, for they had gone into the library. " Last week I was passing the cattle market in Edin- burgh, and a big Highland drover stopped me, begging for a little money. '^JH I m : WW 120 KATK ("ARNHGIK. i ■ • ' i ; ■ ; ! ill pi 1 i 1 ' -^ 'il ■ iil " ' It iss from Locluihri I licf conic with sonic bcastics, and to-morrow I will be walking back all the way, and it iss this night I hef no bed. I wnss considering that the gardens would be a good \i\iicM for a night, but they are telling nic that the police will be disturbing me.' " Me looked so simple and honest that I gave him half-a-crown and said that I was half a Highlander. 1 have three (iaelic sentences, and 1 reeled them off with my best accent. " 'Got forgive me,' he said, " for thinking you to be a Sassenach body, and taking your money from you. You are a fery well-made man, and here iss your silver piece, and may you always hef one in your pocket.' " * Hut what about vour bed ? ' " ' 'Tuts, tuts, that will be all right, for I hef maybe got some six or five notes of my own that were profit on the beasties ; b'lt it iss a i)ity not to be taking any- thing that iss handy when a body happens to be in the south.' " " Capital." Kate laughed merrily, and her too rare laugh I used to thi..l. the gayest 1 ever heard. '• It was the only opportuni.y left him of following his fathers. What a fine business it must have been, starting from Braemar one afternoon, a dozen men well armed, and getting down to Strathmore in the morning ; then lying hid in some wood all day, and collecting a herd of fat cattle in the evening, and driving them up Glen Shee, not knowing when there might be a fight." " Hard lines on the Scottish farmers, Kit, who might be very decent fellows, to lose their cattle or get a cut from a broadsword." " Oh, they had plenty left ; and seriously, dad, without joking, you know, what better could a Presbyterian Low- >il "HERE ISS YOUR SILVER PIECE. p I: UH I 'J: •He JS iU 1 V • 1 '' 1 ' k '. 1 1 tf' ' t'^ ■' flF" f ' 1 ' 122 KATE CARNKGIE. lander do than raise good beef for Highland gentlemen? Mr. Carmichael, I beg pardon ; you seem so good a Celt, that I forgot you were not of our faith." " We are not Catholics," the General explained, gravely, *' although many of our blood have been, and my daughter was educ:\ted in a convent. We belong to the Episcopal Church of Scotland, and will go into Muirtown at a time, but mostly we shall attend the kirk of my old friend Dr. Davidson. Every man is entitled to his foith, and Miss Carnegie rather ..." " Forgot herself." Kate came to her father's relief. " She often does ; but one thing Miss Carnegie remem- bers, and that is that General Carnegie likes his cheroot after tiffin. Do you smoke, Mr. Carmichael? Oh, I am allowed to stay, if you don't object, and have for- given my rudeness." '• You make too much of a word, Miss Carnegie." Car- michael was not a man to take offence till his pride was roused. " Very likely my drover was a true blue Presby- terian, and his minister as genuine a cateran as himself. 'Years ago I made the acquaintance of an old High- land minister called MacTavish, and he sometimes stays with me on his way north in the spring. For thirty years he has started at the first sign of snow, and spent winter spoiling the good people of the south. Some years he has gone home with three hundred pounds." "But how does he get the money? " inquired the General, "and what does he use it for?" " He told me the history of his campaigns when he passed in March, and it might interest you ; it 's our modern raid, and although it 's not so picturesque as a foray of the Macphersons, yet it has points, and shows the old spirit lives. A DAUGHTKR OF DEIU'l'l' 123 (( t wi Join le wass a goot woman, Janet Cameron, oh yes, Mr. fei (I and when she dyi exercised she will be saying peautiful things, and one day she will be speaking of a little field she had beside the church. '' ' " What do you think I should be doing with that piece of ground," she will be saying, " for the end iss not far off, and it iss not earth I can be taking with me, oh no, nor cows." " ' "No, Janet," I said, " but it iss a nice field, and lies to the sun. It might be doing good after you are gone, if it wass not wasted on your mother's cousins twice removed in Inverness, who will be drinking every drop of it, and maybe going to the Moderate Kirk." " ' It wass not for two months or maybe six weeks she died, and I will be visiting her every second day. Her experiences were fery good, and I hcf told them at sacraments in the north. The people in the south are free with their money, b-U it iss not the best of my stories that I can give them ; they are too rich for their stomachs. "'Janet will often be saying to me, "Mister Dugald, it iss a thankful woman that 1 ought to be, for though i lost my man in the big storm and two sons in the war, I hef had mercies, oh yes. There wass the Almighiy and my cow, and between them I hcf not wanted, oh no : they just did." " ' " Janet you will be forgetting your field that iss lying next the manse, and the people will be thinking that it iss a glebe; but I am telling them that it iss Janet Cameron's, who iss a fery expCiienced woman, and has? nefer seen the inside of a Moderate Kirk since the Disruption." " ' Maybe you will be aston::,hed, Mister John, but when Janei's will will be read ♦hat piece of ground wass left to the Free Kirk, which wass fery kind and mindful of !■ T24 KATE CARNEGIE. rn i" 1" h 'ii t ^ 1! i i" ii'i i, < ^ ii I ; j' I'j p' ' \ !■ |i J i Janet, and I made a sermon about her from the text of the "elect lady." •* ' It wass a good field, but it ncedi^d a dyke and some drains, and it wass not our people that had the money. So I made another sermon on the text, " The boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth devour it," and went down to the south. It wass not a dyke and some drains, but enough to build a byre and a stable I came back with. That wass in '■^^, and before '60 there will be a new manse with twelve rooms that iss good for letting to the English people. But it wass ten y;.-ars the church needed, and a year for the porch to keep it warm, for I am not liking stoves, and will not hef one in Crianshalloch. " * It iss wonderful how much money the bodies hef in Glasgow, and it iss good for them to be hearing sound doctrine at a time. There will be no Arminianism when I am preaching, and no joking ; but maybe there will be some parables, oh yes, about the sheep coming in at the manse door for want of a fence, and the snow lying in the pulpit.' " There is a cateran for you, and, mind you, a good fellow too. It 's not greed sends him out, but sheer love of spoil. Would you like-; to see AlacTavish next time he passes up with the cattle? " for Carmichael was embold- ened by the reception of his sketch. ** Nothing we should like better, for the General and I want to know all about Scotland ; but don't you think that those ministers have injured the Highlanders? Janet, you know, has such gloomy ideas about religion." " There is no doubt, Miss Carnegie, that a load of Saxon theology has been landed on the Celt, and it has disfigured his religion. Sometimes I have felt that the 3 A DAUGHTKR OF DEBATE. Catholic of the west is a truer type of northern faith than the Presbyterian of Ross-shire." ** I am so glad to hear you say that," said Miss Car- negie, " for we had one or two west Catholics in the old regiment, and their superstitions were lovely. You re- member, dad, the Maclvers." " That was all well enough. Kit, but none of them could get the length of corporal ; they were fearfully ig- norant, and were reported at intervals for not keeping their accoutrements clean." " That only showed how religious they were, did n't it, Mr. Carmichael? Hadn't the early Christians a rooted objection to the bath? I remember our Padre saying that in a lecture." " There are a good many modern Christians of the same mind, Miss Carnegie, and I don't think our poor Highlanders are worse than Lowlanders ; but Catholic or Protestant, they are all subject to the gloom. I can- not give the Gaelic word. ** What is that? Oh, a southerner would call it de- pression, and assign it to the liver, for he traces all t'ou- ble to that source. But there is no word for this mood in English, because it is not an English experience. My mother fell under it at times, and I saw the effect." "Tell us, please, if all this description does not weary you? " and Kate shone on Carmichael, who would have talked on the Council of Nice or the rotation of crops to prolong his privileges. " It comes on quite suddenly, and is quite a spiritual matter — a cloud which descends and envelops the soul. While it lasts a Highlander will not laugh nor sing ; he will hardly speak, and he loses all hope about every- thing. One of our men has the gloom at a time, and r ' , f I T ^m J B 1 ^^Kl f ^^^u 1 ^^^^B J ^ ^V ,1 I WW ■^sam mmm II ir III full I: 1 26 KATE CARNEGIE. damned. I am speak- then he beUeves that he is . ing theologically." *' The regiment must have been fond of theology, dad. Yes, we understand." " Once he went out to the hill, and lay all night wrestling and agonising to be sure whether there was a God. You know he 's just a small farmer, and it seems to me splendid that such a man should give himself to the big problems of the universe. Do you know," and Carmichael turned to the General, who was smoking in great peace, " I believe that is the reason the Highland- ers are such good fighting men. They fear God, and they don't fear any other person." '*! '11 vouch for one tiling," said the veteran with em- phasis ; " our men put off the gloom, or whatever you call it, when they smelt powder ; 1 never saw a panic in a Highland regiment in more than forty years' soldiering." " What 's the reason of the gloom ? I believe that I have V touch of it myself at times — don't stare at me, dad, it 's rude — just a thin mist, you know, but distinctly not indigestion. Is it a matter of race? " " Of course, but that's no explanation." Carmichael had fallen into his debating societ;^ style. " I mean one has to go further back ; all our habits are shaped by environment." " One moment, please. I have always wanted to ask some clever person what environment meant. I asked Colonel MacLeod once, dad, and he said it was out of the new book on tactics, and he was thankful he had re- tired. Now Mr. Carmichael will make it plain," and Kate was very dt'mure. " It is rather stupid to use the word so much as peo- «s n A DAUGHTER OF DEBATE. 127 pie do now," and Carmichael glanced dubiously at Kate ; " scientific men use it for circumstances." " Is that all ? then do pray say environment. Such a word introduces one into good society, and gives one the feeling of being well dressed ; now about a High- lander's environment, is it his kilt you are thinking of, or his house, or what? " " His country " — and Carmichael's tone had a slight note of resentment, as of one ruffled by this frivolity — " with its sea lochs, and glens, and mists. Any one who has been bred and reared at the foot of one of our mountains will have a different nature and religion from one living in Kent or Italy. He has a sense of rever- ence, and surely that >; a gcod thing." ** Nothing more needed nowadays," the General broke in with much spirit ; " it seems to me that i^eople nowa- days respect nobody, neither the Queen nor Almighty God. As for that man Brimstone, he will never cease till he has ruined the Empire. You needn't look at me, Kate, for Mr. . . . Carmichael must know this as well as any other sensible man. " Why, sir," and now the General was on his feet, "I was told on good authority at the club last week by a newspaper man — a monstrously clever man — that Mr. Brimstone, when he is going down to the House of Com- mons to disestablish the Chuich, or the army, or some- thing, will call in at a shop and order two hundred silk hats to be sent to his house. What do you call that, sir? " " I should call it a deliberate — " ''Jeu iVespi-it. Of course it is, dad," and Kate threw an appealing glance to Carmichael, who had sprung to his feet and was standing stiffly behind his chair, for he was a fierce Radical. ffSff W:' ■> r 11 J w H ni I Ir iSii i !/i^->SS>'/Z'//^(L. \VMM **I SHOULD CAJ.L IT A DEURERATE— " A DAUGHTER OF DEBATE. 129 " Perhaps it was, lassie — those war correspondents used to be sad rascals — and, at any rate, politics are bad taste. Another cheroot, iMr. Carmichael? ()h, non- sense ; you must tell my daughter more about your High- landers. They are a loyal set, at any rate, and we all admire that." "Yes, they are," and Carmichael unbent again, "and will stick by their side whether it be right or wrong. They're something like a woman in their disposition," " Indeed," said Kate, who did not think Carmichael had responded very courteously to her lead, " that is very interesting. They are, you mean, full of prejudices and notions." "If a Highlander takes you into his friendship, you may say or do what you like, he will stand by you, and although his views are as different from yours as black from white, will swear he agrees with every one. If he 's not your friend, he can see no good in anything you do, although you be on his own side." " In fact, he has very little judgment and no sense of justice; and I think you said," Kate went on sweetly, " his nature reminded you of a woman's?" "You're sure that you like cheroots?" for the Gen- eral did not wish this lad. Radical though he was, sac- rificed on his first visit ; " some men are afraid of the opium in them." " Please do not interrupt Mr. Carmichael when he is making a capital comparison," and Kate held him to the point. " What I intend is really a compliment," went on Carmichael, "and shows the superior fineness and sensi- tiveness of a woman's mind." 1 t . i 1 • : ^ --« :|f i I 11 ii 130 KATK (WRNKCnn. i< ^ r I Kate indicated that she was sure that was his meaning, but wailed for details. " Voii sec," with the spirit of one still fresh to the ])iil|)it, ** a man is slower, and ^oes by evidence; a W(jman is (jiiicker, and goes by her instincts." '' Like the lower animals," suggested Kate, sweetly, "by scent, j)erhaps. Well? " " You are twisting my words, Miss Carnegie." Car- michael did not like being bantered by this self-possessed young woman. " Let me put it this way. Would a jury of women be as impartial as a jury of men? ^\'hy, a bad- looking man would have no chance, for they would con- demn him at once, not for what he did, but for what they imagined he was." "Which would save a lot of time and rid society of some precious scoundrels," with vivid recollections of her own efforts in this direction. "Then you grant chat women have some intelligence, although no sense of jus- tice, which is a want? " " Far brighter than men," said Carmichael, eagerly ; "just consider the difference between a man's and a woman's speech. A man arranges and'argues from be- ginning to end, and is the slave of connection. He will labour every idea to exhaustion before he allows it to escape, and then will give a solemn cough by way of punctuating with a full stop, before he goes on to his next point. Of course the audience look at their watches and make for the door." "What would a woman do?" Kate inquired with much interest. " A lady was speaking lately at Muirtown for an orphanage at Ballyskiddle, and described how Patsy was rescued from starvation, and greatly affected us. ' Patsy A DAUGHllCR OF DKISA'IE. ■31 m 1 I will never want bread again,' she concliKlcd, and two bailies wept aloud. " Then she went on, and it seemed to me a stroke of ^'oniiis, ' Si).'aking about Fatsy, has any lady present a black dress suitable for a widow woman?' Before we knew that we had left l*atsy, the people were in a widow's home, and the bailies were again overcome. I mention them because it is supposed that a bailie is the most important human being in Scotland, and he feels it his duty not to yield to emotion. " No, a woman speaker never sacrifices her capital ; she carries it with her from I-^ngland to France in her speech, and recognises no channel jjassage. In fact," and Carmichael plunged into new imagery, " ■ man's progress is after the manner of a mole, while a woman Hits from branch to branch like a — " " Squirrel — I know," came in Kate, getting tired. "Bird, I meant. Why do you say squirrel?" and Carmichael looked suspiciously at Kate. " Because it 's such a careless, senseless, irresponsible little beast. Have vou met manv women, Mr. Car- michael? Really they are not all fools, as you have been trying to suggest for the last ten minutes." " Highlanders are a safer subject of conversation than women," said the General, good-naturedly, as he bade Carmichael good-bye. " And you must tell us more about them next time you call, which I hope will be soon." Carmichael halted twice on his way through the woods ; once he stamped his foot and looked like a man whose pride had been ruffled ; the other time he smiled to himself as one who was thinking of a future pleasure. ! ,! I 4 1. m - 1 ■ i m^ ■t I' < PI* m 132 KATK CARNEGIE. It was dusk as he crossed Lynedoch Bridge, and he looked down up(jn the pool below where the trout were leaping. Half an hour passetl, and then he started off at high speed for Kilhogie Manse. " Please God if 1 am worthy," he was saying to himself; "but I fear she is too high above me every way." i IJ I CHAI'I'IIR X. A SLJ'KA-LAI'SAKIAN. KKKMlAir SAUXDERSON had remained ii the low es- tate of a "probationer" for twelve years after he left the Divinity Hall, where he was re- ported so great a scholar that the Professor of Apologetics spoke to him deprecatingly, and the Professor of Dogmatics openly consulted him on obscure writers. He had wooed twenty- three congregations in vain, from churches in the black country where the colliers rose in squares of twenty and went out without ceremony, to suburban places of worship where the beadle, after due considera- tion of the sermon, would take up the afternoon notices and ask that they be read at once for purposes of utility, which that unflinching functionary stated to the minister with accuracy and much faithfulness. Vacant congrega- tions desiring a list of candidates made one exception, 'ind prayed that Jeremiah should not be let loose upon tliem, till at last it came home to the unfortunate scholar hmiself that he was an offence and a byeword. He began ™' If; I 1 I l^ i i ' 134 K.Vn: CARNECilE. I' > II: to dread the ordeal of giving his name, and, as is still told, declared to a household, living in the fat wheat lands and uitlujut any imagination, that he was called Magor Missabil). When a ^)lranger makes a statement of this kind with a sad seriousness, no one judges it expedient to offrr any remark, but it was skilfully ar- ranged that Missabib's door should be locked from the outside, and one member of the hcisehold sat up all night. The sermon next day did not tend to confidence — having seven (juotations in unknown tongues — and the attitude of the congregation was one of alert vigil- ance ; but no one gave any outward sign of uneas' s, and six able-bodied men collected in a pew belo pulpit knew their duty in an emergency. Saunderson's election to the Free Church of Kilbogie wus therefore an event in the ecclesiastical world, and a consistent tradition in the parish explained its inwardness on certain grounds, complimentary both to the judgment of Kilbogie and the gifts of Mr. Saunderson. On Satur- day evening he was removed from the train by the merest accident, and left the railway station in such a maze of meditation that he ignored the road to Kilbogie altogether, although its sign post was staring him in the face, and continued his way to Drumtochty. It was half- past nine when Jamie Soutnr met him on the high road through our (lien, still travelling steadily west, and being arrested by his appearance, beguiled him into conversa- tion, till he elicited that Saunderson was minded to reach Kilbogie. For an hour did the wanderer rest in Jamie's kitchen, during which he put Jamie's ecclesiastical history into a state of thorough repair — making seven distinct parallels between the errors that had afflicted the Scot- tish Church and the early heretical sects — and then n\ A SUl'RA-LAl'SARIAN. US Jamie gave him in charge of a ploughman who was court- ing in Kilbogie and was not averse to a journey that seemed to ilhistrale tjie double meaning of charity. Jere- miah was handed over to his anxious hosts at a quarter to one in the morning, covered with mud, sonK\vh;it fatigued, but in great peace of soul, having settled the place cf election in the propliecy of llabakkuk as he came down with liis silent companion through Tochty woods. Nor was that all he had done. When they came out from the shadow and st' ick into the parish of Kilbogie — whose fields, now yellow unto harvest, shone in the moonlight — his guide broke silence and enlarged on a plague of field-mice which had quite suddenly appeared and had sadly devastated the grain of Kilbogie. Saun- derson awoke from study and became exceedingly curi- ous, first of all demanding a jjarticular account of the coming of the mice, their multitude, their habits, and their determination. Then he asked many questions about the moral conduct and godliness of the inhabitants of Kilbogie, which his companion, as a native of Drum- tochty, ])ainte(l in gloomy colours, although indicating that even in Kilbogie there was a remnant. Next morn- ing the minister rose at daybreak, and was found wander- ing through the fields in such a state of excitement that he could hardly be induced to look at breakfast. When the "books" were placed before him, he turned promptly to the ten plagues of Egypt, which he expounded in order as preliminary to a full treatment of the visitations of l^rovidence. " He cowes (beats) a' ye ever saw or heard," the fiiriner of Mains explained to the elders at the gate. " He gaed tae bed at half twa antl wes oot in the fields U A Si- 'W. ^MMiwasam i 136 KATE CARNEGIE. by four, an' a 'm dootin' he never saw his bed. He 's lifted ab:;ne the body a'thegither, an' can hardly keep liimsel' awa' frae the Hebrew at his breakfast. Ye '11 gel a sermon the day, or ma name is no Peter Pitillo." Mains also declared his conviction that the invasion of mice would be dealt with after a Scriptural and satisfying fashion. The people went in full of expectation, and to this day old people recall Jeremiah Saunderson's trial sermon with lively admiration. Experienced critics were sus[)icious of candidates who read lengthy chapters from both Testaments and prayed at length foi the Houses of Parliament, for it was justly held that no man would take refuge in such obvious devices for filhng up the time unless he was short of sermon material. One unfortu- nate, indeed, ruined his chances at once by a long peti- tion for those in danger on the sea — availing himself with some eloquence of the sympathetic imagery of the 107th Psalm — for this effort was regarded as not only the most barefaced padding, but also as evidence of an almost incredible blindness to circumstances. " Did he think Kilbogie wes a fishing village?" Mains inquired of the elders afterwards, with pointed sarcasm. Kilbogie was not indifferent to a well-ordered prayer — although its palate was coarser in the appreciation of felicitous terms and allusions th?,n that of Drumtochty — and would have been scandalised if the Queen had been omitted ; but it was by the sermon the youug man must stand or fall, and Kilbogie despised a man who post- poned the ordeal. Saunilerson gave double pledges of capacity and ful- ness before he opened his mouth in the sermon, fjr he read no Scripture at all that day, and had only one prayer, which was mainly a statement of the Divine I I A SUPRA-1.APS\RIAN. 137 Decrees and a careful confession of the sins of Kilbogie ; and then, having given out his text from the proi)becy of Joel, he reverently closed the Bible and placed it on the seat behind him. His own reason for this proceeding was a desire for absolute security in enforcing his subject, and a painful remembrance of the disturbance m a south country church when he landed a Bible — with clasps — on the head of the precentor in the heat of a discourse defending the rejection of Esau. Our best and sim- plest actions — and Jeremiah was as simple as a babe — can be misconstrued, and the only dissentient from Saun- derson's election insisted that the Bible had been depos- ited on the floor, and asserted that the object of this profanity was to give the preacher a higher standing in the pulpit. This malignani reading of circumstances might have wrought mischief — for Saunderson's gaunt figure did seem to grow in the pulpit — had it not been for the bold line of defence taken up by Mains. " Gin he wanted tae stand high, wes it no tae preach the word? an' gin he wanted a soond foundation for his feet, what better could he get than the twa Testaments? Answer me that." It was seen at once that no one could answer that, and the captious obiector never quite recovered his posi- tion in the parish, while it is not the least of Kilbogie's boasting, in which the Auld Kirk will even join against Drumtochty, that they have a minister who not only does not read his sermons and does not need to fjuotc his texts, but carries the whole book in at least three lan- guages in his head, and once, as a proof thereof, preached with it below his feet. Much was to be looked for from such a man, but even Mams, whetted by intercourse with Saunderson, was I 11; il 'i J \ , « -<''«y the clerk sitting at the door, and preventing MacWheep escaping. His position in the court was assured from the beginning, and fulfilled the function of an Encyclopaedia with occasional amaz- ing results, as when information was asked about some lOastern sect for whose necessities the Presbytery were asked to collect, and to whose warm piety affecting allusion was made, and Jeremiah showed clearly, with the reporters present, that the Cappadocians were guilty of a heresy beside which Morisonianism wns an un- sullied whiteness. His work as examiner-in-general for the court was a merciful failure, and encouraged the students of the district to return to their district court, who on the rumour of him had transferred themselves in a body to a Highland Presbytery, where the standard (piestion in Philosophy used to be, " How many horns has a dilemma, and distinguish the one from the other." No man knew what the minister of Kilbogie might not ask — he was only perfectly certain that it would be A SUPRA-LAPSARIaN. 141 beyond his knowledge ; but as Saunderson always gave the answe'- himself in the end, and imputed it to the student, anxiety was reduced to a minimum. Saunder- son, indeed, was in the custom of passing all candidates and reporting them as marvels of erudition, whose only fault was a becoming modesty — which, however, had not concealed from his keen eye hidden treasures of learning. Beyond this sphere the good man's services were not used by a body of shrewd ecclesiastics, as the inordinate length of an ordination sermon had ruined a dinner prepared for the court by " one of our intelligent and large-hearted laymen," and it is still pleasantly told how Saunderson was invited to a congregational so/rer — an ancient meeting where the people ate oranges and the speaker rallied the minister on being still unmarried — and discoursed — as a carefully chosen subject — on the Jewish feasts, with illustrations from the Talmud, till some one burst a paper bag and allowed the feelings of the people to escape. When this history was passed round Muirtown Market, Kilbogie thought still more highly of their minister, and indicated their opinion of the other parish in severely theological language. Saunderson's reputation f'^r unfathomable learning' and saintly simplicity was built up out of many incidents, and grew with the lapse of years to a solitary height in the big strath, so that no n)an would have dared to smile had the Free Kirk minister of Kilbogie appeared in Muirtown in his shirt sleeves, and Kilbogie would only have been a trifle more conceited. Truly he was an amazing man, and, now that he is dead and gone, the last of his race, I wish some man of his profession had written his life, for the doctrine he taught and the way he lived will not be believed by the new generation. The arrival u i 1 w^ —^ iiTsmmmm 142 KATK rARNEC'ilK. of his goods was more tlian many sermons to Kilbogie, and I had it from Mains's own lips. It was the kindly fashion of those days that the farmers carted the new minister's furniture from the nearest railway station, antl as the railway to Kildrummie was not yet open, they had to go to Stormont Station on the north line ; and a pleasant procession they made passing through Pits- cowrie, ten carts in their best array, and drivers with a semi-festive air. Mr. Saunderson was at the station, hav- ing reached it by some miracle without mistake, and was in a condition of abject nervousness about the handUng and conveyance of his belongings. " You will be careful — exceeding careful," he im- plored ; " if one of the boxes were allowed to descend hurriedly to the ground, the result to what is within would be disastrous. I am much afraid that the weight is considerable, but I am ready to assist ; " and he got ready. " Dinna pit yirsel' intae a ferry farry (commotion)," but Mains was distinctly pleased to see a little touch f worldliness, just enough to keep the new minister in touch with humanity. " It '11 be queer stuff oor lads canna lift, an' a '11 gie ye a warranty that the' '11 no be a cup o' the cheeny broken ; " and then Saunderson con- ducted his congregation to the siding. " Dod, man," remarked Mains to the station-master, examining a tnick with eight boxes; "the manse '11 no want for dishes at ony rate ; but let 's start on the furni- ture ; whar hae ye got the rest o' the plenishing? " Naething mair? havers, man, ye dinna mean tae say they pack beds an' tables in boxes ; a' doot there 's a truck missin'." Then Mains went over where the minis- ter was fidgeting beside his possessions. ;r; il I r A SUPRA-T-APSARIAN. M3 " No, no," said Saiinderson, when the situation \v;is put before him, " it 's all here. 1 counted the boxes, and I packed every box myself. That top one contains the fathers — deal gently with it ; and the Reformation divines are just below it. Books are easily injured, and they feel it. I do believe there is a certain life in them, and . . . and . . . they don't like being ill-used," and Jeremiah looked wistfully at the ploughmen. " Div ye mean tae say," as soon as Mains had recovered, " that ye 've brocht naethin' for the manse but bukes, naither bed nor bedding? Keep's a'," as the sit- uation grew upon him, " whar are ye tae sleep, and what are ye to sit on? An' div ye never eat? This croons a' ; " and Mains gazed at his new minister as one who supposed that he had taken Jeremiah's measure and had failed utterly. *' Afea culpa — it's . . . my blame," and Saunderson was evidently humbled at this public ejcposure of his in- capacity ; ** some slight furnishing will be expedient, even necessary, and I have a plan for book-shelves in my head ; it is ingenious and convenient, and if there is a worker in wood ..." " Come awa' tae the dog-cart, sir," said Mains, realis- ing that even Kilbogie did not know what a singular gift they had obtained, and that discussion on such sublunary matters as pots and pans was useless, not to say profane. So eight carts got a box each ; one, Jeremiah's ancient kist of moderate dimensions ; and the tenth — that none might be left unrecognised — a handbag that had been on the twelve years' probation with its master. The story grew as it passed westwards, and when it reached us we were given to understand that the Free Kirk minister of Kilbogie had come to his parish with his clothing in a 111 144 KAT1<: CARNKGIK. ii* paper parcel and twenty-four paekinf^ cases filled with books, in as many lanj^iiaKes — half of them dating frum the introduction of printing, and fastened by silver clasps — and that if Drumtochty seriously desired to hear an int(^llectual sernnjn at a time, we must take our way through Tochty woods. Mrs. Pitillo took the minister into her hands, and compelled him to accompany her to Muirtown, where she had him at her will for some time, so that she equipped the kitchen (fully), a dining-room (fairly), a spare bedroom (amply), Mr. Saunderson's own bed- room (miserably), and secured a table and two chairs for the study. This success turned her head. Full of motherly forethought, and having a keen remembrance that probationers always retired in the afternoon at Mains to think over the evening's address, and left an impress of the human form on the bed when they came down to tea, Mrs. Pitillo suggested that a sofa would be an admirable addition to the study. As soon as this piece of furniture, of a size suitable for his six feet, was pointed out to the minister, he took fright, and became cjuite unmanageable. He would not have such an article in his study on any account, partly because it would only feed a tendency to sloth — which, he explained, was one of his besetting sins — and partly because it would curtail the space available for books, which, he indicated, were the proper furniture of any room, but chiefly of a study. So great was his alarm that he repented of too early con- cessions about the other rooms, and explained to Mrs. Pitillo that every inch of space must be rigidly kept for the overflow from the study, which he expected — if he were spared — would reach the garrets. Several times on their way back tc Kilbogie, Saunderson looked wistfully A SUPRA-LAPSARIAX. M5 at Mrs. Pitillo, and once opened his mouth as if to speak, froM) which she gathered that he Was grateful for her kindness, but dared not yield any farther to the luxuries of the flchh. What this worthy woman entlured in securing a suc- cession of reliable housekeepers for Mr. Saunderson and overseeing the interior of that remarkable iiome, she was never able to explain to her own satisfaction, though she made many honest efforts, and one of her last intel- ligible utterances was a lamentable prophecy of the final estate of the Free Ciuirch manse of Kilbogie. Mr. Saunderson himself seemed at times to have some vague idea of her painful services, and once mentioned her name to Carmichael in feeling terms. There had been some delay in jiroviding for the bodily wants of the visitor after his eight miles' walk from Drumtochty, and it seemed likely that he would be obliged to take his meal standing for want of a chair. "While Mrs. Pilillo lived, I have a strong impression, almost amounting to certainty, that the ilomestic arrange- ments of the manse were better ordered ; she had the episcoi)al fliculty in (]uite a conspicuous degree, and was, I have often thought, a woman of sound judgment, " We were not able at all times to see eye to eye, as she had an unfortunate tendency to meddle with my books and papers, and to arrange them after an artifi- cial fashion. This she called tidying, and, in its most extreme form, cleaning. " With all her excellencies, there was also in her what I have noticed in most women, a certain flavour of guile, and on one occasion, when I was making a brief journey through Holland and France in search of comely editions of the fathers, she had the books carried out 10 m 1 ' A 1 W' 1 - ■ i I: iiiii li'l "SHE HAD AN UNFORTUNATE TENDENCY TO MEDDLE WITH MY BOOKS," I A SU1>RA-LAI'SAR1AN. M7 to the garden and dusted. It was the space of two years before I regained mastery of my hbrary again, and unto this day I cannot lay my hands on the service book of King Henry VIII., which I had in the second edition, to say nothing of an original edition of Rutherford's Liw Hew. " It does not become me, however, to reflect on the efforts of that worthy matron, for she was bv nature a good woman, and if any one could be saved by good works, her place is assured. I was with her before she died, and her last words to me were, 'Tell jean tae dust yir bukes aince in the sax months, and for ony sake keep ae chair for sittin' on.' It was not the testimony one would have desired in the circumstances, but yet, Mr. Carmichael, I have often thought that there was a spirit of . . . ofunselfishness, in fact, that showed the working of grace." Later in the same evening Mr. Saunderson's mmd returned to his friend's spiritual state, for he entered into a long argument to show that while Mary was more spiritual. Martha must also have been within the Divine Election. it. . 1 '■ w^ .,£ i£ \M K| (jB SB ^ 9 M T ^sn 1 in (^ ■'M. II i IS tf-lH i '■ CHAITKK NI. IN nil': (JLUAMINU. /A 'i: UGUS r is our summer time in the north, aiul Carmichacl found it pleasant walking from Lynedoch bridge to The softness of the gloaming, and the /, v/^ dew,- and the scent ot the honeysuckle in the hedge, and the smell of the cut corn in the fields — for harvest is earlier down there than with us — and the cattle chewing the cud, and the sheltering shadow of old beech trees, shed j^eace upon him and touched the young minister's imagination. Fancies he may have had in early youth, but he had never loved any woman except his mother and his aunt. There had been times when he and his set declared they would never marry, and one, whose heart was understood to be blighted, had drawn up the constitution of a celi- bate Union. It was never completed — and therefore never signed — because the brotherhood could not agree about the duration of the vows — the draftsman, who has been twice married since then, standing stiffly for ♦heir IN IHM {;i,().\MIN'G. »■'; '49 ni! perprtuity, while ihc others (onsi.lerv.l that .i dis- pensing power might be lodged in the Moderator ol Assembly. This railing against marriage on the part ol his friends was pure boyishness, and they all were engaged on the mere prospect of a kirk, but Cannichael had more of a mind on the matter. 1 here was in him an ascetic bent, inherited from some Catholic ancestor, and he was al- most convincetl that a minister woidd serve (iod with more abandonment in the celibate state. As an only child, and brought up by a nu)ther given to noble thoughts, he had learned to set women in a i)la(e by themselves, and considered marriage tor ordinary men to llavour of sacrilege. His molher had bound it as a law upon him that he was never to exercise his tongue on a woman's failings, never to argue with a woman unto her embarrassment, never to regard her otherwise than as his superior. Women noticed that Carmichael bore himself to them as if each were a Madonna, and treated him in turn according to their nature. Some were abashed, and could not understand the lad's shyness ; those were saints. Some were amused, ; nd suspected him of sarcasm ; those were less than saints. Some hor- rified him !mto confusion of face because of the shame- ful things they said. f)ne middle-aged female, whose conversation oscillated between physiology and rescue work, compelled Carmichael to sue for mercy on the ground that he had not been accustomed to speak about such details of life with a woman, and ever afterwards described him as a prude. It seemed to Carmichael that he was disliked by some women because he thought more highly of them than they thought of themselves. Carmichael was much tried bv the baser of his fellow- f^ 'I. M m T50 KATE CARXHGIE. j ii ■i , ■ i 1 t 1 k > 1 h' ii n '.' j f ^ L § i ' 5; 1 students, especially a certain class of smng, self-contented, unctuous men, who neither had endured hardship to get to college, nor did any work at college. 'I'hey were described in reports as the " fruits of the revival," and had been taken from behind counters and sent to the University, not because they had any love of letters, like Domsie's lads at Drumtochty, but because rich old ladies were much impressed by the young men's talk, and the young men were perfectly aware that they would be better off in the ministry than in any situation they could gain by their own merits. As Carmichael grew older, and therefore more charitable he discovered with what faulty tools the work of the world and even of kirks is carried on, and how there is a root of good in very coarse and common souls. When be was a young judge — from wiiom may the Eternal deliver us ail — he was bitter against the '' fruits," as he called them, because they did their best to escape examinations, and spoke in a falsetto voice, and had no interest in dogs, and because they told incredible tales of their spiritual achievements. Rut chiefly did Carmichael's gorge rise against those unfortunates because of the mean way they spoke of marriage, and on this account, being a high-spirited young fellow, he said things which could haidly be de- fended, and of which afterwards he honestly x'epented. "Yes, religion is profitable for both worlds," one of them would exhort by the junior common-room fire, " and if you doul)t it, look at me ; five-and-twenty shill- ings a week as a draper's assistant was all I had, and no chance of rising. Now I 'm a gentleman " — here Car- michael used to look at ihe uncleanly little man and snort — "and in tvvo years 1 could ask any girl in religious society, and she would take me. A minister IV fj IN THr, :;lc)Amix(; can marry any woman, if he be evangelical. Ah," he would conclude, with a fine strain of piety, " the Gospel is its own reward." What enraged Carmichael as he listened in the dis- tance to these preans of Pharisaism was the disgusting fact that the '• fruits " did carry off great spoil in the marriage field, so that to a minister without culture, manners, or manliness, a middle-class family would give their pet daughter, when they would have refused her to a ten times better man fighting his way up in commerce. If she died, then t'nis enterprising buccaneer would achieve a second and tiiird conquest, till in old age he would rival the patriarchs in the number of his wives and pos- sessions. As for the girl, Carmichael concluded that she was still under the glamour of an ancient superstition, and took the veil after a very commonplace and squalid Protestant ftishion. 'i'his particular " fruit" against whom Carmichael in his young uncharitableness especially raged, because he was more self-complacent and more illiterate than his fellows, married the daughter of a rich self-made m;in, and on the father's death developed a peculiar form of throat disease, which laid him aside from the active work of the ministry — a mysterious providence, as he often explained — but allowed him to enjoy life with a guarded satisfaction. What Carmichael said to him about his ways and his (losi)el was very unpleasant and quite unlike Carmichael's kindly nature, but the only revenge tht; vie tim took was to state his conviction that Scotland would have nothing to do with a man that was utterly worldly, and in after years to warn vacant churches against one who did not preach the Cross. After one of those common-room encounters. Car- ■^H 1*11^ ■ m. T 1 t i^^z K.vri-: caknegip:. mich.iel used to flinp; himself out into the east wind and greyness of Edinburgh, fuming against the simpHcity of good people, against the provincialism of his college, against the Pharisaism of his church, against the Philistin- ism of Scottish life. He would go down to Holyrood and pity Queen Mary, transported from the gay court of France to Knox's Scotland, tlivided between theology and bloodshed. In the evening he would sweep his table clean of (ierman books on the Pentateuch, and cover it with prints of the old masters, which he had begun to collect, and ancient books of Catholic devotion, and read two letters to his mother from her uncle, who had been a Vicar-General, and died in an oM Scottish convent in Spain. There was very little in the letters beyond good wishes, and an account of the \'icar- Creneral's health, but they seemed to link a I'Vee Kirk divinity student on to the Holy Catholic Church. Mother Church cast her spell over his imagination, and he envied the lot of her priests, who held a commission no man denied and administered a world-wide worship, whom a splendid tradition sanctioned, whom each of the arts hastened to aid ; while he was to be the minister of a local sect and work with tlie " fruits," who knew nothing of Catholic Christianity, but supposed their little eddy, whereon they danced like rotten sticks, to be the main stream. Next day a reaction would set in, and Car- michael would have a fit of Bohemianism, and resolve to be a man of letters. So the big books on theology wouUl again be set aside, and he would write an article for J^('rrier\s- Journal, that kindliest of all journals to the young author, which he would receive back in a week " with thanks." The Sunday night came, and Carmich?el sat down to write his weekly letter to his mother — she got notes IN THE GLOAMING 153 between, he found them all in her drawers, not a scrap missing — and as he wrote, his prejudircs, and petu- lances, and fancies, and unrest passcrl away. IJetbre he MOTHER CHURCH CAST HER SPELL OVER HIS LMAGINATION. had told her all that happened to him during the week — touching gently on the j)oor Revivalist — although his mother had a saving sense of humour, and was a quite wonderful mimic — and saying nothing of his evening If il i r \i\f i) _.1IUP SBBB T 154 KATE CAR\K(;ii:. with St. Francis tie Sales — for this would have alarmed her at once — lie knew perfectly well that he would be neither a Roman nor a reporter, but a Free Kirk minis- ter, and was not utterly cast down ; for notwithstanding the yeasty conmiotion of youth and its censoriousness, he had a shrewd idea that a man is likely to do his life- work best in the tradition of his foith and blood. Next morning his heart warmed as he went in through the college gales, and he would have defende one is more bitterly conscious of the defects of this exjwsition than myself — meagre and superficial to a degree, both in the patristic references and the experimental apj)lication ; but we are frail creatures, John, and it is doubtful whether the ex- position of any book should extend unto a generation. It has always caused me regret that Mains — I mean the father of the present tenant — dej)arted before we had come to the comfort of the eighth chapter." The Rabbi's mind was much affected by this thought, and twice in the kitchen his eye wandered to the chair where his friend had sat, with his wife beside him. From IMscilla and Aquila he was led into the question of hos- pitality, on which he spoke afterwards till they came to the Manse, where he stationed Carmichael on the door- step till he secured a light. " There is a parcel of books on the floor, partially opened, and the way of passing is narrow and somewhat dangerous in the darkness." -I ir i t 1 i { i :i '.1 ■ 'P mm wfm CHAPTKR XI r. K!I,I!()(;ir. MANSK. INIS'IMRS there were in the eat strath so orderly that they •pt their seahng-wax in one drawer and their string in another, while their ser- mons were arranged under the books of the Lible, and tied with green silk. Dr. )()\vbiggin, though a dull man ami of a heavy carriage, could find in an instant the original draft of a motion on instrumen- tal music he made in the Pres- bytery of Muirtown in the year '59, and could also give the exact page in the blue-books for every word he had uttered in the f^imous case when he showed that the use of a harmonium to train iMacW'heep's choir was a return to the bondage of Old Testament worship. His collection of pamphlets was supposed to be unicpie, and was a terror to controversialists, no man knowing when a rash utterance on the bottomless mystery of "spiritual independence" might not be produced from tlie Doctor's coat-tail pocket. He rehired to rest at 10.15, and rose at six, settling the subject of his next Kll.iiOCII'; MANSK 63 sermon on Sal)bnth ('vciiiiit^, and fmishiiic; the first head befurt' l)rcakfast on Monday morning. He had three hats — one for fimcrals, one for marriages, one for ordi- d has returned fi the I'reslntei nary occasions — door to brush his C(jat. Mornitig prayers in Dr. Dow- biggin's house were at 8.05, and the wrath of the Doctor was so dangerous that one i)robatit)ner staying at the manse, and not quite independent of influence, did ni)t venture to undress, but snatched a fearful doze sitting upright on a cane-bottomed chair, lest he should not be in at the psalm. Voung ministers of untidy habits regarded Dr. Dowbiggin's study with despair, and did not recover their spirits till they were out of Muirtown. Once only tlid this eminent man visit the manse of Kilbogie. and in favourable moments after dinner he would give his choicer exjK'riences. . " It is my invariable custom to examine the bed to see that everything is in order, and any one sleeping in Kilbogie Manse will find the good of such a precaution. I trust that I am not a luxurious person — it would ill become one who came out in '43 — but 1 have certainly become accustomed to the use of sheets. When I saw there were none on the bed, I declined to slecji without them, and I indicated my mind very distinctly on the condition of the manse. " Would you believe it? " the Doctor used to go on. " Saunderson explained, as if it were a usual occurrence, that he had given away all' the spare linen in his house to a girl that had to marry in . . . urgent circum- stances, and had forgotten to get more. And what do you think did he offer as a substitute for sheets?" No one could even imagine what might not occur to the mind of Saunderson. ill , ! Is - 1 ! i [■: L t M- 1 I' ii i Ii " 164 RATE CARNir.Ii:. "Towels, as I am an honourable man ; a collection of towels, as lie ])ut it, 'skilfully attached together, might make a pleasant covering.' 'J'hat is the first and last ti.ne 1 ever slept in the Free Church Manse of Kilbogie. As regards Saunderson's study, I will guarantee that the like of it cannot be found within Scotland," and at the very thought of it that exact and methodical ecclesiastic realised the limitations of language. tlis boys boasted of the Rabbi's study as something that touched genius in its magnificent disorderliness, and (Jarmichael was so proud of it that he took me to see it as to a shrine. One whiiT of its atmosphere as you entered the door gave an appetite and raised the highest expec- tations. I'or any bookman can estimate a library by scent — if an expert he could even write out a catalogue of the books and sketch the appearance of the owner. Heavy odour of ])olished mahogany, Brussels carpets, damask curtains autl tablecloths ; then the books are kejit within glass, consist of sets of standard workt) m half calf, and th'^ owner will give you their cost wholesale to a farthing. Faint fragrance of delicate flowers, and Russia leather, with a hint of cigarettes : prepare your- self for a marvellous wall-paj)er, etchings, bits of oak, limited editions, and a man in a velvet coat. Smell of paste and cloth binding and general newness means yes- terday's books and a man racing through novels with a paper knife. Those are only book-rooms by courtesy, and never can satisfy any one who has breathed the sacred air. It is a rich and strong spirit, not only filling the room, but pouring out from the door and possessing the hall, redeeming an opposite dining-room from gross- ness, and a more distant drawing-room from frivolity, and even lending a goodly flavour to bedrooms on upper fi M KILBOGIK iMAxXSK. 165 floors. It is distilled from curious old duodecimos packed on high shelves out of sight, and blows over folios, with large clasps, that once stood in monastery libraries, and gathers a subtle sweetness from parchments that were illuminated in ancient scriptoriums, that are now grass grown, and is fortified with good old musty calf. The wind was from ^he right quarter on the first day I visited Kilbogie M . e, and as we went up the garden walk the Rabbi lijrary already bade us wel- come, and assured us of our reward for a ten miles' walk. Saunderson was perfectly helpless in all manner of mechanics — he could not drive a tack through anything except his own fingers, and had given up shaving at the suggestion of his elders — and yet he boasted, with truth, that he had got three times as many bo. ks into the study as his predecessor posses-^ed in all his house. For Saunderson had shelved the walls from the floor to the ceiling, into every corner and over the doors, and above the windows, as well as below them. The wright had wished to leave the space clear above the mantelpiece. "Ye '11 be hanging Dr. Chalmers there, or maybe John Knox, and a bit clock '11 be handy for letting ye ken the 'oors on Sabbath." The Rabbi admitted that he had a Knox, but was full of a scheme for hanging him over his own history, which he considered both appropriate and convenient. As regards time, it was the last thing of which that worthy man de- sired to be reminded — going to bed when he could no longer see for weariness, and rising as soon as he awoke, taking his food when it was brought to him, and be ing conducted to church by the beadle after the last straggler was safely seated. He even cast covetous eyes ill ''lik m m I- - ,. I;H » '« 1 66 KATE CARNEGIE. ■ I?' f T »■ i. ' 111; mn M upon the two windows, which were absurdly large, as he considered, but compromised matters by removing the shutters and filling up the vacant space with slender works **VE'LL be HANGINC DK. CHALMERS THERE." of devotion. It was one of his conceits that the rising sun smote first on an A Kcmpis, for this he had often noticed as he worked of a morning. Book-shelves had long ago fiik'd to accommodate I )( BfflM^iill V 4 KILBOGIE MANSE. 167 Rabbi's treasures, and the floor had been bravely utilised. Islands of books, rugged and perpendicular, rose on every side; long promontories reached out from the shore, varied by bold headlands ; and so broken and varied was that floor that the Rabbi was pleased to call it the ^gean Sea, where he had his Lesbos and his Samos. It is absolutely incredible, but it is all the same a simple fiict, that he knew every book and its location, having a sense of the feel as well as the shape of his favourites. This was not because he had the faintest approach to orderliness — for he would take down twenty voliunes and never restore them to the same place by any chance. It was a sort of motherly instinct by which he watched over them alj, even loved i)ro(ligals that wan- dered over all the study and then set off on adventurous journeys into distant rooms. The restoration of an emi- grant to his lawful home was celebrated by a feast in which, by a confusion of circumstances, the book played the part of the fatted calf, being read afresh from begin- ning to end. During his earlier and more agile years the Rabbi used to reach the higher levels of his study by wonderful gymnastic feats, but after two falls — one with three Ante-Nicene fathers in close pursuit — he deter- mined to call in assistance. This he did after an impres- sive fashion. When he attended the roup at Pitfoodles — a day of historical prices — and purchased in open com- petition, at three times its value, a small stack ladder, Kilbogie was convulsed, and Mains had to offer explanations. " He 's cuttit aff seevin feet, and rins up it tae get his tapmaist bukes, but that 's no a','' :ind then Mains gave it to be understood that the rest of the things the minis- ter had done with tliat ladder were beyond words. For y 1} iyiii ■^Ilr" 168 KATE CARNi:c;ii:. in order that the rough wood might not scar the sensitive backs of the fathers, the Rabbi had covered the upper end with cloth, and for that purpose had utiUsed a pair of trousers. It was not within his abiHty in any way to reduce or adapt his material, so that those interesting garments remained in their original shape, and, as often as the ladder stood reversed, presented a very impressive and diverting spectacle. It was the inspiration of one of Carmichael's most successful stories — how he had done his best to console a woman on tlic death of her hus- band, and had not altogether failed, till she caught sight of the deceased's nether garments wavi'^" .lisconsolately on a rope in the garden, when she . !>jd to be com- forted. " Toom (empty) breeks tae me noo," and she wept profusely, " toom breeks tae me." One of the great efforts of the Rabbi's life was to seat his visitors, since, beyond the one chair, accommodation had to be provided on the table, wheresoever there hap- pened to be no papers, and on the ledges of the book- cases. It was pretty to see the host suggesting from a long experience those coigns of vantage he counted easi- est and safest, giving warnings also of unsuspected dan- ger in the shape of restless books that might either yield beneath one's feet or descend on one's head. Carmichael, however, needed no such guidance, for he knew his way about in the marvellous place, and at once made for what the boys called the throne of the fathers. This was a lordly seat, laid as to its foundation i:i mediaeval divines of ponderous content, but excf^llently finished with the Benedictine edition of St. ;U..^uS'i."i-. softened by two cushions, one for a seat and n;.! ■'.er for aback. Here Carmichael used to si*:. '^^ grea;. • cn'Leii;. smoking and listening while the Rabbi liunteo a;i ilea hit KILB()(;iK MANSK. through Scripture with many authorities, or defended the wildest Calvinism witii strange, learned arguments ; from this place he would watch the Rabbi searching for a lost note on some passage of Holy Writ amid a pile of papers two feet deep, through which he burrowed on all fours, or climbing for a book on the sky-line, to forget his errand and to expound some point of doctrine from the to[) of the ladder. " You 're comfortable, John, and you do not want to put off your boots after all that travelling to and fro ? then 1 will search for Barbara, and secure some refresh- ment for our bodies," and Carmichacl watched the Rabbi depart with pity, for he was going on a troublous errand. • Housekeepers are, after beadles, the most wonderful functionaries in the ecclesiastical life of Scotland, and every species could be found within a day's journey of Drumtochty. Jenkins, indeed, suggested that a series of papers on Church Institutions read at the clerical club should include one on housekeepers, and offered to sup- ply the want, which was the reason why Dr. Dowbiggin refused to certify him to a vacancy, speaking of him as " frivolous and irresponsible." The class ranged from Sarah of Drumtochty, who could cook and knew nothing about ecclesiastical affliirs, to that austere damsel, Marga- ret Meiklewham of Pitscowrie, who had never prepared an appetising meal in her life, but might have sat as an elder in the Presbytery. Among all her class, Barbara MacCluckie stood an easy worst, being the most incapable, unsightly, evil-tem- pered, vexatious woman into whose hands an unmarried man had ever been delivered. MacWheep had his own trials, but his ruler saw that he had sufficient food and l-^'ns to the doctrine, and threatened henceforward to w;ilk into Muirtown in order to escape from unsound doctrine. On such occasions the Rabbi laid himself out T I 11 KILBOGIE MANSE. i7t A TALL, BON\', FORBIDDING WOMAN, for her instruction with much zest, and he knew when he had ])roduced an impression, for then he went supperless to bed. Between this militant spirit and the boys there I ■i ii,W^ 172 KATE CARNK(HK. was an undying feud, and Carmichael was not at all hurt to hear her frank references to himself. " What need he come stravagin' doon frae Drumtochty for? it wud set him better tae wait on his ain fouk. A licht-headed fellow, they say as kens ; an' as for his doctrine — weel, maybe it '11 dae for Drumtochty. " Tea? Did ye expect me tae hae biling water at this 'oor o' the nicht? My word, the money wud flee in this hoose gin a' wesna here. Milk '11 dae fine for yon birkie : he micht be gled tae get onything, sorning on a respectable manse every ither week." "You will pardon our humble provision" — this is how the Rabbi i)repared Carmichael ; " we have taken my worthy Abigail unawares, and she cannot do for us wiiat in other circumstances would be her desire. She has a thorn in the flesh which troubles her, and makes her do what she would not ; but I am convinced that her heart is right." That uncompromising woman took no notice of Drum- tochty, but busied herself in a search for the Rabbi's bag, which he insisted had been brought home from Muir- town that mornmg, and which was at last found covered with books. '• Do nor open it at present, Barbara ; you can iden- tify the contents ater if it be necessary, biit I am Mure they are all right." and the Rabbi watched Barbara's investigation* with evident anxiety, "Maybe ye hae brocht bac^ what ye started wi', but gin ye hev, it 's the .""^^ lime .1' ^an mind. Laist sacra- ment at Edinburgh ve pickit up twal books, ae clothes brush, an' a crochet cover for a chair, an' leit a'thing lUnt belonged tae ye." " it wa« an jmulvertence ; but f obtained a drawer for KILBOGI1-: MAXSK. 173 my own use this time, and I was crirelul to pack its con- tents into the ba^, leaving nothing " Hut the Rabbi did not seem over-confident. " There 's nae question that ye hev filled the pack," said Barbara, with much deliberation and an ominous calmness ; •* but v.'hether wi' yir ain gear or some ither body's, a '11 leave ye tae judge yirsel'. A 'II juist empty the bag on the bukes ;" and liarbara selected a bank of Puritans for the display of her master's spoil. " Ae slipbody (bodice), well hemmed and gude stuff — ye didna tak' that wi' ye, at ony rate; twa pillow slips — they '11 come in handy, oof ain are wearin' thin ; ae pair o' sheets — '11 i list dae for the next trimmie that ye want tae set up in her hoose ; this '11 be a bolster slip, a 'm judgin' — " "It must be the work of Satan," cried the poor Rabbi, who constandy saw the hand of the great enemy in the disorder of his study. ** I cannot believe that \\)y hands packed such garments in pla'",- of my own." " Ye 'II ])e satisfied when ye read the name ; it 's plain eneuch ; ye needna gang dodderin' aboot here and there lookin' for yir glasses; there's twa pair on youf head already ; " for it was an hour of tiiumph to Bar- bara's genial soul. " It 's beyond understanding," murmured the Rabbi. " I must have mistaken one drawer for another in the miilst of meditation ; " and then, when J5arbara had swept out of the room with the varied linen on her arm, " this is very humiliating, John, and hard to bear." " Nonsense, Rabbi ; it 's one of the finest things you have ever done, tlalf a dozen journeys of that kind would refurnish the manse ; it 's just a pity you can't annex a chair " but he saw that the good man was sorely vexed. hii i if 1 'I ^74 K.Vri' CARNIXIIK. ^11 S ■ i " Vuii aro a good 1 id, John, and it is truly marvellous what charity 1 have received at the hands of young men who might have scorned and mocked me. Ood knows how my heart has been filled with gratitude, and I . . . have mentioned your names in my unworthy prayers that God may do to you all according to the kindness ye have shown unto me." It was plain that this lonely, silent man was much moved, and Carmichael did not speak. " People consider that 1 am ignorant of my failings and u'eaknesses, and I can bear witness with a clear con- science that I am not angry when they smile and nod the head ; why should I be? But, John, it is known to my- self only and Him before whom all hearts are open how great is my suffering in being among my neighbours as a sparrow upon the housetop. " May you never know, John, what it is to live alone and friendless till you lose the ways of other men and retire within yourself, looking out on the multitude pass- ing on the road as a hermit from his cell, and knowing that some day you will die alone, with none to . . . give you a draught of water." " Rabbi, Rabbi " — for Carmichael was greatly dis- tressed at the woe in the face opposite him, and his heart was tender that night — " why should you have lived like that? Do not be angry, but . . . did God intend it (\annot be wrong mean God did give Eve to Adam." " Laddie, why do ye speak with fear and a faltering voice ? Did I say aught against that gracious gift or the holy mystery of love, which is surely he sign of the union betwixt God and the soul, as is set forth after a mystical shape in the Song of Songs ? But it was not for r Kn,i5()(;iK MANsi:. 1 75 mo — 110, not for me. I complain not, neither Uaw I vexcf! my soul. He cloeth all thing's well." ** But, dear Rahhi" — and CarmK^hael hesitated, not knowing whore he stood. " Ye ask me why" — the Rabbi anticijuted the ques- tion — " and 1 will tell you plainly, for my heart has ever gone forth to you. I'or long years I found no favour in the eyes of the Church, and it seemed likely 1 would be rejected from the ministry as a man useless and unprofit- able. How could I attempt to win the love of any maiden, since it did not appear to be the will of God that I should ever have a place of hal)itation? It con- sisted not with honour, for I do hold firmly that no man hatli any right to seek unto himself a wife till he have a home." " But . . . " •'Afterwards, you would say Ah, John, then hud I become old and unsightlv, not such a one as women could care for. It would have been cruel to tie a maid for life to one who might only be forty years in age, but was as seventy in his pilgrimage, and had fallen into unlovely habits." ■• Then the Rabbi turned on Carmichael his gentle eyes, that were shining with tears. " It will be otherwise v.'ith you, and so let i' be. May I live to see you rejoicing with the wife of your youth," So it came to pass that it was to this unlikely man Carmichael told his new-born love, and he was amazed at the understanding of the Rabbi, as well as his sympathy and toleration. "A maid of spirit — and that is an excellent thing; and any excess will be tamed by life. Only see to it that ye agree in that which lieth beneath all churches ;i il'4l m IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 |50 '""= I4£ i^ 2.5 i -" illiii 1.4 1.6 •m Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (7)6) 873-4503 ^n. X^'^ ^v \ \ ^ %p Mo r. % Ct', ^ ^'■ O w,^m » • ' ■ I 76 KATE CARNEGIE. m. mm m A m 't I if piji ♦! and maketh sAuls one in God. May He prosper you in your wooing as He did the patriarch Jacob, and far more abundantly." Very early in the morning Carmichael awoke, and be- ing tempted by the sunrise, arose rnd went downstairs. As he came near the study door he heard a voice in prayer, and knew that the Rajbi had be?.n all night in intercession. " Thou hast denied rae wife and child ; deny me not Thyself. ... A stranger Thou hast made me among men ; refuse me not a place in the Citj . . . . Deal graciously with this lad who has been to me as a son in the Gospel. . . . He has not despised an old man ; put not his heart to confusion. . . ." Carmichael crept upstairs again, but not to sleep, and at breakfast he pledged the Kabbi to come up some day and see Kate Carnegie. I: I ■ . ' ' I 11:' I y CHAPTER XIIT. \M <■ ■> I PREPARING FOR THE SACRAMENT. NGLISH folk have vari- ous festi^'als in the relig- ious year, as becometh a generous country, but in our austere and thrifty Glen there was only one high day, and that was Sacrament Sabbath. It is rumoured — but one prefers not to believe scandals — that the Scottish Kirk nowadays is en- couraging a monthly Sacrament, after which nothing remains in the way of historical declension except for people to remain for the Sacrament as it may occur to them, and for men like Drumshcugh to get up at meetings to give their religious experience;;, when every one that has any understanding will know that the reserve has gone out of Scottish character, and the reverence from Scottish fiiith. Dr. Davidson's successor, a boisterous young man of bourgeois manners, elected by popular vote, has got guilds, where Hillocks' granddaughter reads papers on Emerson and refers to the Free Kirk people as Dissen- ters, but things were different in the old days before the Revolution. The Doctor had such uncjuestioning con- in \m : ^H j Ffl^lH m l|| i 1 178 KATH CARNEGIE. V I fidcnce in himself that he considered his very presence a sufficient defence for the Kirk, and was of such perfect breeding that he regarded other Kirks with unbroken charity. He was not the man to weary the parish with fussy Httle schemes, and he knew better than level down tlie Sacrament. It was the summit of the year to whicli the days climbed, from which they fell away, and it was held in the middle of August. Then nature was at her height in the (Hen, and had given us of her fulness. The barley was golden, and, rustling in the gentle wind, wearied for the scythe ; the oats were changing daily, and had only so much greenness as would keep the feathery heads firm for the handling ; the potatoes having received the last touch of the plough, were well banked up and flowering pleasantly ; the turnips, in fine levels, like Hillocks', or gently sloping fields, like Menzies', were so luxuriant that a mere townsman could not have told the direction of the drills ; the hay had been gathered into long stacks like unto the shape of a two- storied house, and the fresh aftermath on the field was yielding sweet morsels for the horses of an evening ; the pasture was rich with the hardy white clover, and one could hear from the road the cattle taking full mouthfuls ; young spring animals, like calves and lambs, were now falling into shape and beginning independent life, though with an occasional hankering after the past, when the lambs would fall a-bleating for their mothers, and calves would hang about the gate at evening, where they had often fought shamelessly to get a frothy nose once more into the milk-pail. Our little gardens were full a-blow, a very blaze and maze of coliDur and foliage, wherein the owner wandered p! an evening examining flowers and fruit with many and I' i S!' ' m^ i PREPARING FUR THE SACRAMENT. 179 prolonged speculatioiiS — much aided by the smoke of tobacco — as to the chance of gaining a second at our horticultural show with his stocks, or honourable mention GATHERING HER P.KRRV HARVEST. for a dish of mixed fruit. The good wife might be seen of an afternoon about that time, in a sun-bonnet and a gown carefully tucked up, gathering her berry harvest for preserves, with two young assistants, who worked at a, W I , 7 I .' 'V r i8o KATE CARNEGIE. 1 ! i i;: modest distance from their mother, very black as to their moutiis, and preserving the currants, as they plucked them, by an instantaneous process of their own invention. Next afternoon a temi)ting fragrance of boil- ing sugar would make one's mouth water as he passed, and the same assistants, never weary in well-doing, might be seen setting saucers of black jam upon the window sill to " jeel," and receiving, as a kind of black- mail, another saucerful of " skim," which, I am informed, is really the refuse of the sugar, but, for all that, wonderfully toothsome. Bear with a countryman's petty foolishness, ye mighty people who live in cities, and whose dainties come from huge manufactories. Some man reading these pages will remember that red-letter day of the summer-time long ago, and the faithful hands that plucked the fruit, and the old kitchen, with its open beams, and the peat fire glowing red, and the iron arm that held the copper-lined pan — much lent round the district — and the smack of the hot, sweet berries, more grateful than any banquet of later days. The bees worked hard in this time of affluence, and came staggering home with spoil from the hills, but it was holiday season on the farms. Between the last labours on the roots and the beginning of harvest there was no exacting demand from the land, and managing farmers invented tasks to fill up the hours. An eftbrt was made to restore carts and implements to their original colour, which was abruptly interrupted by the first day of cut- ting, so that one was not surprised to see a harvest cart blue on one side and a rich crusted brown on the other. Drumshengh would even send his men to road-making, and apologise to the neighbours — " juist reddin' up aboot the doors" — while Saunders the foreman and his staff W'' l! i f ff PREPARING FOR 'IH1<: SACRAMl-NT. i8i laboured in a shamefaced manner like grown-ups j^laying at a children's game. Hillocks used to talk vaguely about going to see a married sister in (llasgow, and one year got as far as Kildrummie, where he met Piggie Walker, and returned to have a deal in potatoes with that enterprising man. More than once Drumsheugh — but then his position was acknowledged — set off on the Monday for Carnoustie with a large carpet bag contain- ing, among other things, two pounds of butter antl two dozen eggs, and announced his intention of spending a fortnight at the " saut water." The kirkyard would bid him good-bye, and give him a united guarantee that Sabbath would be kept at Drumtochty during his ab- sence, but the fathers were never astonished to see the great man drop into Muirtown market next Friday on his way west — having found four days of unrelieved gaiety at that Scottish Monaco enough for tlesh and blood. This season of small affairs was redeemed by the Sacrament, and preparations bega.i far off with the cleaning of the kirk. As early as June our beadle had the face of one with something on his mintl, and de- clined to pledge himself for roups of standing corn, where his presence was much valued, not on business grounds, but as an official sanction of the proceedings. Drumtochty always felt that Dr. Davidson was fully re- presented by his man, and John could no longer disen- tangle the two in his own mind — taking a gloomy view of the parish when he was laid up by lumbago and the Doctor had to struggle on single-handed, and regarding the future when both would be gone with despair. " Ay, ay, Hillocks," he once remarked to that worthy, '* this '11 be a queer-like place when me an' the Doctor 's awa'. .i I! J [I? k i w 182 KATE CARNEGIE. " Na, na, a' daurna promise for the roup, but ye can cairry it on whether a 'in there or no ; prices dinna hang on a beadle, and tiiey 're far niair than appearances. A 'm juist beginning tae plan the reddin' up for the Saicrament, an' a've nae speerit for pleesure ; divye ken, Hillocks, a' wud actually coont a funeral distrackin'." " Ye hev an awfu' responsibility, there 's nae doot o' that, John, but gin ye juist jined the fouk for ae field, it wud be an affset tae the day, an' the auctioneer wud be lifted." With the beginning of July, John fairly broke ground in the great effort, and was engaged thereon for six weeks, beginning with the dusting of the pulpit and concluding with the beating of Drumsheugh's cushion. During that time the Doctor only suggested his wants to John, and the fathers themselves trembled of a Sabbath morning lest in a moment of forgetfulness they might carry in some trace of their farms with them and mar the great work. It was pretty to see Whinnie labouring at his feet in a grassy corner, while John watched him from the kirk door with an unrelenting countenance. The elders also had what might be called their clean- ing at this season, examining into the cases of any who had made a " mistak' " since last August, and decid- ing whether they should be allowed to "gang forrit." 'I'hese deliberations were begun at the door, where Drum- sheugh and Domsie stood the last five minutes before the Doctor appeared, and were open to the congrega- tion, who from their places within learned the offenders' prospects. " The Doctor '11 dae as he considers richt, an' he 's juist ower easy pleased wi' onybody 'at starts a-greetin', but yon 's ma jidgment. Dominie." ii! PRKPARING FOR Till': SACRAMKX'l'. 183 " I do not wish to dispute with you, Dnunshcugh " — Domsie always spoke Knghsh on such occasions — " antl the power of the keys is a solemn charge. lint we must temper a just measure of severity with a spirit i f mercy." "Ye may temper this or temper that," said Drum- sheugh, going to the root of the matter, " but a' tell ye, Dominie, there 's ower mony o' thae limmers in the country juist noo, an' a 'm for making an example o' Jean Ferguson." So Jean did not present herself for a token on the approaching Fast-day. and sat out with the chiUlrcn dur- ing the Sacrament with as becoming an expression of penitence as her honest, comely face could accomplish. Nor did Jean or her people bear any grudge against the Doctor or the Session for their severity. She had gone of her own accord to confess her fault, and was willing that her process of cleansing should be thorough before she received absolution. When a companion in misfor- tune spoke of the greater leniency of Pitscowric, Jean expressed her thankfulness that she was of Drumtochty. " Nana o' yir loose wys for me — gie me a richt minis- ter as dis his duty ; " which showed that whatever might be her deflections in practice, Jean's ideas of morals were sound. Preparations in the parish at large began two weeks before the Sacrament, when persons whose attendance had been, to say the least, irregular slipped in among the fathers without ostentation, and dropping into a conver- sation on the weather, continued, as it were, from last Sabbath, used it skilfully to offer an apology for past failures in church observance. " It 's keepit up wonderfu' through the week, for a' 1) . ) .1)1 rw-r 184 KATE CARNi:(;iK. ni never like ower bricht mornin's," old Sandie Ferguson would remark casuiUly, whose arrival, swallow-like, heralded the ai)i)roach of the great occasion. " The roads are graund the noo frae the heich (high glen) ; we 've hed an awfu' winter, neeburs, up oor wy — clean blockit up. Them 'at lives ablow are michty favoured, wi' the kirk at their door." " It 's maist extraordinar' hoo the seasons are changin' " — Jamie Soutar could never resist Sandie's effrontery — " A' mind when Mairch saw the end o' the snow, an' noo winter is hangin' aboot in midsummer. A'm ex- peckin' tae hear, in another five year, that the drifts last through the Sacrament in August. It '11 be a sair trial for ye, Sandie, a wullin' kirkgoer — but ye '11 hae the less responsibility." " Millhole 's here, at ony rate, the day, an' we 're gled tae see him " — for I )rumsheugh's pride was to have a large Sacrament — and so Sandie would take his place at an angle to catch the Doctor's eye, and pay such rapt attention to the sermon that any one not knowing the circumstances might have supposed that he ha 1 just awaked from sleep. Ploughmen who on other Sabbaths slept in the fore- noon and visited their sweethearts the rest of the day, presented themselves for tokens on the Fast-day, and made the one elaborate toilette of the year on Saturday evening, when they shaved in turns before a scrap of glass hung outside the bothy door, and the foreman, skilled in the clipping of horses, cut their hair, utilising a porridge bowl with much ingenuity to secure a round cut. They left early on the Sabbath morning, and forme 1 themselves into a group against the gable of the kirk, — being reviewed with much satisfaction by Drumsheugh, ■ i Pki;i'ARING FOR TilK SACRAMKNT. 185 who had a keen eye fo. absentees from the religious func- tion of the year. At the first sound of the bell the plough- men went into kirk a solid mass, distributing themselves in the servants' pews attaclied to the farmers' pews, and main- taining an immovable countenance through every j)art of the service, any tendency to somnolence being j)romptly and effectually checked by the foreman, who allowed him- self some ease when alone on other days, but on Sacrament Sabbath realised his charge and never closed an eye. The women and children proceedeil to their places on arrival, and the Withers followed them as the bell gave signs of ceasing. Drumsheugh and Domsie then came in from the plate and the administration of discipline, and the parish waited as one man for the appearance of John with the Bible, the Doctor following, and envied those whose seat commanded the walk from the manse down which the i)rocession came every Sabbath with dignity, but once a year with an altogether peculiar majesty. Drumtochty exiles meeting in Londoner other foreign places and recalling the (ilen, never part without lighting on John and passing contempt on all officials beside him. "Ye mind John?" one will say, wagging his head with an amazement that time and distance has in no wise cooled, and his fellow glensman will reply, "Ay, ye may traivel the warld ower or ye see his marrow." Then they will fall into a thoughtful silence, and each knows that his neighbour is following John as he comes down the kirkyard on the great day. " Com in' in at the door lookin' as if he didn:. ken there wes a body in the kirk, a' aye coontit best," but his friend has another preference. " It wes fine, but, man, tae see him set the bukes doon on .the pulpit cushion, and then juist gie ae glisk roond the kirk as much as tae say, * What think ye i rW7^ IT iiiffwiifr i 1^ . 1 i ' i i I « 1 ■' 1 r|i VI ill, . ■r |L •^ i86 KATK CAKNBilK. o'that?' cowed a' thing." It has been given to myself amid other |)rivileges to see (and store in a fond memory) the walk of a University mace-bearer, a piper at the Highland gathering, a (lerman stationmaster (after the war), and an alderman (of the old school), but it is bare justice to admit, although I am not of Drumtochly, but only as a proselyte of the gate, that none of those efforts is at all to be compared with John's achievement. Within the manse the Doctor was v/aiting in pulpit array, grasping his father's snuff-box in a firm right hand, and it was understood that, none seeing them, and as a prepara- tion for the strain that would immediately he upon them, both the minister and his man relaxed for a minute. "Is there a respectable attendance, John? " and the Doctor would take a preliminary pinch. '* Drumsheugh does not expect many absentees." " Naebody 's missin' that a' cud see, sir, except that ill gettit wratch, Tammie Ronaldson, and a' coont him past redemption. A' gaed in as a' cam doon, and gin he wesna lyin' in his bed sleepin' an' snorin' like a heathen." ** Well, John, did you do your duty as an officer of the church?" " A' stood ower him. Doctor, an' a' juist said tae masel', 'Shall a' smite wi' the sword?' but a' left him alane for this time." And so they started — John in front with the books, and the Doctor a pace behind, his box now in the left hand, with a handkerchief added, and the other holding up his gown, both dignitaries bare-headed, unself-conscious, absorbed in their office. ' The books were carried level with the top button of John's waistcoat — the Psalm-book being held in its place by the two extended thumbs — and neither were PREPARIXC; FOR TIIH SACRAMKNT. 1.S7 allowed to depart from the absolute horizontal by an eij^'hlh of an inch, even going up the pulj)it stairs. When they had been deposited in their place, and slightly patted, just to settle thehi, John descended to make way for the Doctor, who had been waiting beneath in a com- manding attitude. lie then followed the minister up, and closed the door —not with a bang, but yet so that all might know he had fmished his part of the work. If any one had doubted how much skill went to this achievement, he had his eyes opened when John had the lum])ago, and the smith arrived at the kirk door three yards ahead of the Doctor, and let the Psalm-book fall on the puli)it floor. " We 're thankfu' lae hae ye back, John," said Hillocks. "Yon wes a temptin' o' Provi(\ nee." Once only had I the privilege of seeing John in this his glory, and the sight of him afflicted me with a problem no one has ever solved. It might, indeed, be made a branch of scientific investigation, and would then be called the Genesis of IJeadles. Was a beadle ever. a baby? What like was he before he appeared in his office? Was he lying as a cardinal in petto till the right moment, and then simply showed himself to be appointed as one born unto this end? No one dared to hint that John had ever followed any other avocation, and an effort to con- nect John with the honourable trade of plumbing in the fiir past was justly regarded as a disgraceful return of Tam- mie Ronaldson's for much foithful dealing. Drumtochty refused to consider his previous history, if he had any, and looked on John in his office as a kind of Melchizedek, a mysterious, isolated work of Providence. He was a mere wisp of a man, with a hard, keen face, iron-grey hair brushed low across his forehead, and clean- shaven cheeks. i i 1 f I.» h I 1 88 KATE CARNEGIE. " A 've nnething tne say against a beard," on being once consulted, " an' a 'm no prepared tae deny it maim be in the |jlan o' Provid- ence. In f;ut, gin a' wes in a ])rivate capaucily, a' niichtna shave, but in ma l)u])lic capaucity, a 've nae alternative. It wud be a fine story tae gang roond the Prerbytery o' Muirtown that the Beadle o' Drum- tochty hed a beard." His authority was su- preme under the Doctor, and never was disputed by man or beast save once, and John himself admitted that the circumstances were quite peculiar. It was during the, Doctor's famous continental tour, when Drumsheugh fought with Strange names in the kirkyard, and the Presby- tery supplied Drumtochty in turn. The minister of St. David's, Muirtown, was so spiritual that he left his voice at the foot of the pul- pit stairs, and lived in the Song of Solomon, w'th o^xa- sional excursions into the Lamentations of Jeremiah, and it was thoughtless not to have told Mr. Curlew that two or three dogs — of unexceptionable manners — attended our HE WAS A -M1;RK WISP OF A M.\N. t ii PREPARING FOR THP: SACRAMENT. 1S9 kirk with their masters. They would no more have thought of brawHng in church than John himself, and they knew the oarts of the service as well as the Doctor, but dogs have been so made by our common Creator tnat they cannot abide flilsetto, and Mr. Curlew tried them beyond endurance. When he lifted up his voice in "Return, return, () Shulamite, return, return," a long wail in reply, from below a back seat where a shep- herd was slumbering, proclaimed that his appeal had not altogether fiuled. '* Put out that dog," said the preacher in a very natural voice, with a stron^^ suggestion of bad temper, " put that dog out immediately ; it 's most disgracefr .'lat such . . . eh, conduct should go on in a Christian church. Where is the church officer? " "A'm the Beadle o' Drumtochty " — standing in his place — "an' a '11 dae yir pleesure ; " and the occasion was too awful for any one, even the dog's master, to assist, far less to laugh. So Laddie was conducted down the passage — a dog who would not condescend to resist — and led to the outer gate of the kirkyard, and John came in amid a dead silence — for Mr. Cv'rlew had not yet got his puloit note again — and faced the preache-. " The dog 's oot, sir, but a' tak this congregation tae witness, ye begood (began) it yirsel', " and it was said that Mr. ('urlew's pious and edifying chant was greatly restricted in country kirks from that day. It was not given to the beadle to sit with the elders in that famous court of morals which is called the Kirk Session, and of which strange stories are told by Southern historians, but it was his to show out and in the culprits with much solemnity. He was able to denote the exact offence in the language'of Kirk law, and was considered I' 1 m i',r I i! I r~ iii 190 KATE CARNEGIE. 1! happy in his abbreviations for technical terms. As a familiar C'f the Inquisition, he took oversight of the dis- trict, and saw that none escaped the wholesome discipline of the Church. "Ye 're bac!:," he said, arresting Peter Ferguson as ha tried to escape down a byroad, and eyeing the prodigal sternly, vviio bad fled from discipline to London, and there lost a leg • " the' '11 be a nieetin' o' Session next week afore the Saicrament ; wull a' tell the Doctor ye 're comin' ? " " No, ye '11 dae naething o' the kind, for a '11 no be there. A 've nae suner got hame aifter ma accident but ye 're tormentin' me on the verra road wi' yir Session. Ye drave me awa' aince, an' noo ye wud harry (hunt) me aff again." " A vveel, a weel " — and John was quite calm — "dinna pit yirsel' in a feery farry (excitement) ; ye '11 gang yir ain wy and earn yir ain jidgment. It wes for yir gude a' spoke, and noo a 've dune ma pairt, an' whatever comes o't, ye 'li no hae me or ony ither body tae b'ame." , *' What think ye '11 happen? " — evdently sobered by John's tone, yet keeping up a show of defiance. " Ye wud think the Session wes the Sheriff o' Perthshire tae hear ye blavvin' and threatenin'." " It 's no for me tae say what may befa' ye, Peter Ferguson, for a 'm no yir jidge, but juist a frail mortal, beadle though I be ; but a' may hev ma thochts. " Ye refused tl j summons sax month syne, and took yir wys tae Lond 11 — that wes contumacy added tae yir ither sin. Nae (loot ye made certain ye hed escapit, but hed ye ? A' leave it tae yirsel', for the answer is in yir body," and John examined Peter's wooden leg with an austere interest. "Ay, ay, ma man," he resumed — for Peter was now PREPARING FOR THE SACRAMP:N'I. 191 quite silenced by this uncompromising interpretation of the ways of Providence — " ye aff tae London, an' the Lord aifter ye, an' whuppit aff ae leg. Noo ye declare ye '11 be as countermacious as ever, an' a 'm expeckin' the Lord '11 come doon here an' tak the ither leg, an' gin that disna dae, a' that remains is tae stairt on yir airms ; and, man Peter, ye '11 be a bonnie-like sicht before a' 's dune." This was very fiiithful dealing, and it had its desired effect, for Peter appeared at next meeting, and in due course was absolved, as became an obedient son of the Church. John did not, however, always carry the sword, but bore himself gently to young peopl? so long as they did not misbehave in church, and he had a very tender heart to\^^ard probationers, as being callow members of that great ecclesiastical guild in which he was one of the heads. When one of those innocents came to take the Doc- tor's place, John used to go in to visit them in the dining-room on Saturday evening, partly to temper the severity of his wife, Dr. Davidson's housekeeper, who dealt hardly with the lad:;, and partly to assist them with practical hints regarding pulpit deportment and the delivery of their sermons. One unfortunate was so ner- vous and clinging that John arranged his remarks for him into heads — with an application to two classes — and then, having suggested many points, stopped under the yew arch that divided the kirkyard from the manse garden, and turned on the shaking figure which followed. " Ae thing mair ; aifter ye 're dune wi' yir sermon, whether ye 're sweatin' or no, for ony sake fa' back in yir seat and dicht (wipe) yir broo," which being done by the exhausted orator, made a great impression on the people, and was so spread abroad that a year afterwards it won for him the parish of Pilscowrie. 'It I i! 1 f r i >i If ,i» . 1 i , ii mi' ( '■ 11 CHAPTER XIV. A MODERATE. S a matter of f;ict, Dr. Davidson, minister of Drumtochty, stood exactly five feet nine in his boots, !i^ and was therefore a man of quite ily^ moderate height; but this is not /^ what you had dared to state to any loyal and self-respecting person in the parish. For "the Doctor" — what suggestions of respect and love were in that title on a Drumtochty tongue — was so compactly made and bore himself with such dignity, both in walk and con- versation, th^t Drumsheugh, although not unaccustomed to measurement and a man of scrupulous accuracy, being put into the witness- box, would have sworn that Dr. Davidson was " aboot sax feet aff and or — maybe half an inch mair, standin' at his full hicht in the pulpit." Which fond delusion seemed to declare abroad, as in a parable, the greatness of the Doctor. Providence had dealt bountifully with Dr. Davidson, and had bestowed on him the largest benefit of heredity. He was not the first of his house to hold this high place of parish minister — the only absolute monarchy in the land — and he must not receive over-praise for not falling A MODKRATF 193 into those personal awkwardnesses and petty tyrannies which are the infalUble signs of one called suddenly to the throne. His were the pride of blood, the inherent sense of authority, the habit of rule, the gracious arts of manner, the conviction of popular devotion, the grasp of affairs, the interest in tlie people's life, which are the marks and aids of a royal caste. It was not in the nature of things that the Doctor should condescend to quarrel with a farmer or mix himself up with any vulgar squabble, because his will was law in ninety cases in a hundred, and in the other ten he skilfully anticipated the people's wishes. When the minister of Nether Pitfoodles — who had sermons on " Love, Courtship, and Marriage," and was much run after in jMuirtown — quarrelled with his elders about a collection, and asked the interference of the Presbytery, Dr. Davidson dealt severely with him in open court as one who had degraded the ministry and discredited government. It was noticed also that the old gentleman would afterward examine Nether i'it- foodles curiously for minutes together in the Presbytery, and then shake his head. " Any man," he used to say to his reverend brother of Kildrummie, as they went home from the Presbytery together, " who gets into a wrangle with his farmers about a collection is either an upstart or he is a fool, ar^] in neither case ought he to be a minister of the Church of Scotland." And the two old men would lament the decay of the ministry over their wine in Kildrummie Manse — being both of the same school, cultured, clean- living, kind-hearted, honourable, but not extravagantly evangelical clergymen. They agreed in everything ex- cept the matter of their after-dinner wine. Dr. David- son having a partiality for port, while the minister of 13 !i I Mil fW^ '. . !. > 194 KATE CARNEGIE. %^ . 3 : ,■> ^ '' ; ||||- ;, Kildrummie insisted that a generous claret was the hereditary drink of a Scottish gentleman. This was only, however, a subject of academic debate, and was not allowed to interfere with practice — the abbe of Drum- tochty taking his 'bottle of claret, in an appreciative spirit, and the cur'5 of Kildrummie disposing of his two or three glasses of port with cheerful resignation. If Drumtochty exalted its minister above his neigh- bours, it may be urged in excuse that Scottish folk are much affected by a man's birth, and Dr. Davidson had a good ancestry. He was the last of his line, and repre- sented a family that for two centuries had given her sons to the Kirk. Among those bygone worthies, the Doctor used to select one in especial for honourable mention. He was a minister of Dunleith, whose f:irmers preferred to play ball against the wall of the kirk to hearing him preach, and gave him insolence on his offering a pious remonstrance. Whereupon the Davidson of that day, being, like all his race, short in stature, but mighty in strength, first beat the champion player one Sabbath morning at his own game to tame an unholy ])ride, and then thrashed him with his fist to do good to his soul. This happy achievement in practical theology secured an immediate congregation, and produced so salutary an effect on the schismatic ball-player that he became in due course an elder, and was distinguished for his sever- ity in dealing with persons absenting themselves from public, worship, or giving themselves overmuch to vain amusements. At the close of the last century the Doctor's grand- father was minister of the High Kirk, Muirtown, where he built up the people in loyalty to Kirk and State, and himself recruited for the Perthshire Fencibles. He also t! mm^m mi mt k A MODERATE. 195 delivered a sermon entitled '*l'he French Revolution the just judgment of the Ahnighty on the spirit of insubordi- nation," for which he received a vote of thanks from the Lord Provost and Baihes of Muirtown in council assem- bled, as well as a jewel from the Earl of Kilspindie, the grandfather of our lord, which the Doctor inherited and wore on the third finger of his left hand. Had Carmi- chael or any other mil ister decked himself after this fashion, it had not fared well with him, but even the Free Kirk appreciated a certain pomp in Dr. Davidson, and would have resented his being as other men. He was always pleased to give the history of the ring, and gene- rally told a story of his ancestor, which he had tasted much more frequently than the sermon. A famous judge had asked him to dinner as he made his circuit, and they had disputed about the claret, till at last its excellence com- pelled respect at the close of the first bottle. "'Now, Reverend Sir,' said the judge, 'this wine has been slandered and its fair fame taken away without rea- son. I demand that you absolve it from the scandal.' "'My Lord,' said my worthy forbear, 'you are a great criminal lawyer, but you are not well read in Kirk law, for no offender can be absolved without three ijppearances.' " My grandfather," the Doctor used to conclude, " had the best of that jest besides at least two bottles of claret, for in those days a clergyman took more wine than we would now think seemly, although, mark you, the old gentleman always denounced drunkenness on two grounds : first, because it was an offence against religion, and second, because it was a sign of weakness." Some old folk could remember the Doctor's father, who never attained to the Doctorate, but was a commanding '. i- . i 196 KATE CARNKCUE. personage. Pie published no sermons, but as the first Davidson in Drumtochty, he laid the foundations of good government. The Kilspindie family had only recently come into the parish — having i)urchased the larger part of the Carnegies' land — and Drumtochty took a thrawn fit, and among other acts of war pulled down time after time certain new fences. The minister was appealed to by his lordship, and having settled the rights of the mat- ter, he bade the factor wait in patience till the Sacrament, and Drumsheugh's father used to tell unto the day of his death, as a historical event, how the Doctor's father stood at the communion-table and debarred from the Sacra- ment t vil livers of all kinds, and that day in especial all who had broken Lord Kilspindie's fences, — which was an end of the war. There was a picture of him in the Doctor's study, showing a very determined gentleman, who brought up both his parish and his family upon the stick, and with undeniable success. With such blood in his veins it was not to be expected that our Doctor should be after the fashion of a modern minister. No one had ever seen him (or wished to see him) in any other dress than black cloth, and a broad- brimmed silk hat, with a white stock of many folds and a bunch of seals depending from some mysterious pocket. His walk, so assured, so measured, so stately, was a means of grace to the parish, confirming every sound and loyal belief, and was crowned, so to say, by his stick, which had a gold head, and having made history in the days of his father, had reached the position of a heredi- tary sceptre. No one could estimate the aid and com- fort that stick gave to the Doctor's visits, but one quite understood the force of the comparison Hillocks once drew, after the Doctor's death, between the coming to his A MODERATE. 197 house of the Doctor and a "cry" from his energetic successor under the new ro^ime. " He 's a hard-workin' body, oor new man, aye rin rinnin', fuss fussin' roonil the pairish, an' he's a poi)'lar hand in the pulpit, but it 's a puir business a vcjesit frae him. " It 's juist in an' oot hke a cadger buyin' eggs, nae peace an' nae solemnity. Of coorse it 's no his blame that he 's naethin' tae look at, for that's the wy he wes made, an' his father keepit a pig (china) shop, but at ony rate he micht get a wise-like stick. " Noo, there wes the Doctor 'at 's dead an' gone ; he didna gang scramniclin' an' huntin' aifter the fouk frae Monday tae Saiturdny Na, na, he didna lower himsel' preachin' an' paiterin' like a missionary body. He an- nounced frae the pulpit whar he wes gaein' and when he wes com in', " * It 's my purpose,' " and Hillocks did his best to imitate the Doctor, " * to visit the farm of Hillocks on Wednesday of this week, and I desire to meet with all persons living thereon ; ' it wes worth callin' an intima- tion, an' gied ye pleesure in yir seat. " On Tuesday aifternoon John wud juist drap in tae see that a'thing wes ready, anil the next aifternoon the Doctor comes himsel', an' the first thing he dis is tae lay the stick on the table an' gin he hed never said a word, tae see it lyin' there wes a vecsitation. But he 's a weel- meanin' bit craturie, Maister Peebles, an' handy wi' a magic lantern. Sail," and then Hillocks became incapa- ble of speech, and you knew that the thought of Dr. Davidson explaining comic slides had quite overcome him. This visitation counted as an event in domestic life, I; .1; i- M; 1' •' I I r' 'tmmm' pmmsm 198 KATE CARNEGIE. IS' i i i \ -1 ; M :t f ; .1 1 I I : 1 and the Doctor's progress through the Glen was noted in the kirkyard, and any special remark duly reported. Nothing could be more perfect than his manner on such occasions, being leisurely, comprehensive, dignified, gra- cious. First of all he saluted every member of the family down to the bairns by name, for had he not at least married the heads of the housei.old, and certainly bap- tised all the rest? Unto each he made some kindly re- mark also — to the good man a commendation of his careful farming, to the good- wife a deserved compliment on her butter ; the eldest daughter was praised for the way in which she was sustaining the ancient reputation of Hillocks' dairy ; there was a word to Hillocks' son on his masterly ploughing ; and some good word of Dom- inie Jamieson's about the litde lassie was not forgotten. After which the Doctor sat down — there was some diffi- culty in getting the family to sit in his presence — and held a thorough review of the family history for the last year, dwelling upon the prospects of Charlie, for whom the Doctor had got a situation, and Jean, the married daughter, whose husband might one day have a farm with four pair of horses in the carse of Gowrie. The Doctor would then go out to give his opinion on the crops, which was drawn from keen practical knowledge — his brochure on " The Potato Disease : Whence it Came and How it is to be Met" created much stir in its day — and it was well known that the Doctor's view on bones or guano as a preferable manure was decisive. On his return the servants came in — to whom also he said a word — and then from the head of the table he conducted worship — the ploughmen looking very uneasy and the children never taking their eyes off his face, while the gude-wife kept a watchful eye on all. At the prayer she was care- !!! A moi)i:r.\'I'k. 199 ful to be within arm's reach of Hillocks, since on one memorable occasion that excellent man had remained in an attitude of rapt devotion after the others had risen from their knees, which sight profoundly affected the family, and led the Doctcjr to remark that it was the only time he had seen Hillocks play the Pharisee in pub- lic. The Doctor's favourite passages were the eulogium on the model housewife in Proverbs, the parable of the Clood Samaritan, and the 12th chapter of Romans, from which he deduced many very searching and practical lessons on diligence, honesty, mercy, and hospitality, liefore he left, and while all were under the spell of his presence, the Doctor would approach the delicate sub- ject of Hillocks' "tout-mout" (dispute) with Gormack over a purchase at a roup, in which it was freely asserted that Gormack had corrupted the Kildrummie auctioneer, a gentleman removed above pecuniary bribes, but not unaffected by liquid refreshment. So powerfully did the Doctor appeal to Hillocks' neighbourliness that he took snuff i)rofusely, and authorised the Doctor to let it be understood at Gormack that the affair was at an end, which treaty was confirmed by the two parties in Kil- drummie train, when Hillocks lent Gormack hi;-) turnip- sowing machine and borrowed in turn Gormack's water- cart. Mr. Curlew had more than once hinted in the Presbytery of IVIuirtown that Dr. Davidson was not so evangelical as might be desired, and certainly Mr. Cur- lew's visitation was of a much more exciting nature ; but St. David's congregation was never without a quarrel, while the Doctor created an atmosphere in Drumtochty wherein peace and charity flourished exceedingly. Whatever might be urged in praise of his visitation, surely the Doctor could never be more stately or fatherly i •• II 5 f- I , I r m\ 200 KAIK (WUXKfUK. Ill .. } .SSI than on Sacrament Sabbath, as he stood in his place to bc'^in service. Ills first act was to wipe elaborately those gold eye-glasses, without which nothing would have been counted a sermon in Drunitochty Kirk, and then, adjusting them with care, the Doctor made a deliber- ate survey of the congregation, beginning at his right hand and finishing at his left. Iklow him sat the elders in their blacks, wearing white stocks that had cost them no little vexation that morning, and the precentor, who was determined no man, neither Saunders Baxter nor another, should outsing him that day in Coleshill. Down the centre of the kirk ran a long table, covered with pure white linen, bleached in the June showers and wonderfully ironed, whereon a stain must not be found, for along that table would pass the holy bread and wine. Across the aisle on either side, the pews were filled with stalwart men, solemn beyond their wonted gravity, and kindly women in simi)le finery, and rosy- cheeked bairns. The women had their tokens wrapped in snowy handkerchiefs, and in their Bibles they had sprigs of apple-ringy and mint, and other sweet-scented plants. By-and-by there would be a ftiint fragrance of peppermint in the kirk — the only religious and edify- ing sweet, which flourishes wherever sound doctrine is preached and disappears before new views, and is there- fore now confined to the HighUnds of Wales and Scot- land, the last home of our fathers' creed. The two back seats were of black oak, richly carved. In the one sat the (leneral and Kate, and across the passage Viscount Hay, Lord Kilspindie's eldest son, a young man of noble build and carriage, handsome and debonair, who never moved during the sermon save twice, and then he looked at the Carnegies' pew. ,1, A M()i)i:KA'n':. SOI When the Doctor had satisfied himself that none were missing of the people, he dropped his eye-glass — each act was so closely followed that Drumsheugh below could tell where the Doctor was — and tocjk snuff after the good old fashion, tai)ping tlie box twice, selecting a pinch, distributing it evenly, and using Irst a large red bandana and then a delicate white cambric handkerchief. When the cambric disai)pcared, each person seized his lUble, for the Doctor would say immediately with a loud, clear voice, preceded by a gentlemanly clearance of the throat, " Let us compose our minds for the worship of Almighty God by singing to His praise the first l*salm. " ' That man hat.i perfect blessedness Who walketh not astray — '" Then Peter Rattray, of the high (Hen, would come in late, and the Doctor would follow him with his eye till the unfortunate man reached his pew, where his ov. ;i flesh and blood withdrew themselves from him as if he had been a leper, and ]*eter himself wished that he had never been born. " P'ive minutes earlier, Peter, would have prevented this unseemly interruption — ahem. '" In counsel of ungodly men, Nor stands in sinners' way.' " Before the Sacrament the Doctor gave one of his col- lege sermons on some disputed point in divinity, and used language that was nothing short of awful. " Grant me those premises," he would say, while the silence in the kirk could be felt, " and I will show to any reasonable and unprejudiced pei.,jn that those new theories are nothing but a resuscitated and unjustifiable Pelagianism." Such passages produced a lasting im- H'; if 202 KATE CARNEGIE. ■■i* Hi If : :i :< : I pression in the parish, and once goaded Drumsheiigh's Saunders into vohintary speech. " Yon wes worth ca'in' a sermon. Did yo;: ever hear sic »vords out o' the mouth o' a man? Noo that bleatin' cratur Curlew 'at comes frae Muirtown is jist pittin' by the time. Sail, ae sermon o' the Doctor's wud last yon body for a year." After the sermon the people sang, " 'T was on that night when doomed to know," and the elders, who had gone out a few minutes before, entered the kirk in procession, bearing the elements, and set them before the Doctor, now standing at the table. The people came from their pews and took their seats, singing as they moved, while the children were left to theii own devices, tempered by the remembrance that their doings could be seen by the Doctor, and would receive a just recompense of reward from their own kin in the evening. Domsie went down one side and Drum- sheugh the other, collecting the tokens, whose clink, clink in the silver dish was the only sound. " If there be any other person who desires to take the Sacrament at this the first table " (for the Sacrament was given then to detachments), "let him come without delay." " Let us go, dad," whispered Kate. " He is a dear old padre, and . . . tl:ey are good people and our neighbours." "But they won't kneel, you know, Kit ; will you . . .?" " We 'II do as they do ; it is not our Sacrament." So the father and daughter went uj) tlie kirk and took their places on the Doctor's left hand, A minute later Lord Hay rose and went up his aisle, and sat down opposite If I' !'i A modp:rate. 203 »' w the Carnegies, looking very nervous, but also most modest and sincere. The Doctor gave the cup to the General, who passed it to Kate, and from her it went to Weelum Mac Lure, and another cup he gave to Hay, whom he had known from a child, and he handed it to Marget Howe, and she to ^Vhinnie, her man ; and so the two cups passed down from husband to wife, from wife to slaughter, from daughter to servant, from lord to tenant, till all had shown forth the Lord's death in common fellowship and love as becometh Christian folk. In the solemn silence the sunshine fell on the faces of the communicants, and the singing of the birds came in through the open door with the scent of flowers and ripe corn. Before the congregation left, the FJoctor addressed a (ew words of most practical advice, exhoriing them, in especial, to live in the spirit of the Sermon on the Mount, and to be good neighbours. It was on one of those occasions that he settled a dispute between masters and men — whether the cutting of grass for the horses' breakfast should be included in the day's work — and ended the only bitter- ness known in Drumtochty. At the kirk gate Hay introduced himself to his f ither's friend, and the General looked round to find his daughter, but Kate had disappeared. She had seen the face of Marget Howe after the Sacrament as the face of one in a vision, and she had followed Marget to the road. "Will you let me walk with you for a little? I am General Carnegie's daughter, and I would like to speak to you about the Sacrament ; it was lovely." "Ye dae me much honour. Miss Carnegie," and Marget slightly flushed, " an' much pleasure, for there is ill m f f ir WF^ 204 KA'i'E CARXECai:. I 1 ':■ I Mlii 1 m "WILL VOU LET ME WALK WITH VOU FOR A LIITLE?" naething dearer tae me than keeping the Sacrament ; it is my joy every day and miickle comfort in life." "But I thought you had it only cnce a year? " ques- tioned Kate. A moderatp:. 205 " With bread and wine in outward sign that is once, and maybe eneuch, for it makes ane high day for us all, but div ye not think. Miss Carnegie, *^^hat all our hfe should be ane Sacrament?" "Tell me," said Kate, looking into Marget's sweet, spiritual face. " Is it no the picture of His Luve, who thocnt o' everybody but Himsel', an' saved everybody but Him- sel', an' didna He say we maun drink His cup and live His life?" Kate only signed that Marget should go on. " Noo a 'm judgin' that ilka ane o's is savit juist as we are baptised intae the Lord's death, and ilka time ane o's keeps back a hot word, or humbles a proud heart, or serves anither at a cost, we have eaten the Body and drunk the Blood o' the Lord." '• You are a good woman," cried Kate, in her impul- sive way, so quick to be pleased or offended. " May I come to see you some day?" " Dinna think me better than T am : a woman who had many sins tae fecht and needit many trials tae chasten her ; but ye will be welcome at Whinny Knowe for yir ain sake and yir people's, an' gin it ever be in ma pooer tae serve ye, Miss Carnegie, in ony wy, it wuU be ma joy." Twice as she came through the woods Kate stopped ; once she bit her lip, once she dashed a tear from her eye. "Where did you go to, lassie?" and the General met Kate at the gateway. " Lord Hay came to the drive with me, and was quite disappointed not to meet you — a very nice lad indeed, manly and well-mannered." " Never mind Lord Hay, dad ; I 've been with the most delightful woman I 've ever seen." ir. »'/''' r 206 KATE CARNEGIE. "Do you mean she was in kirk?" ''Yes sitting across the table -she is a farmer's wife and a better lady than we saw in India. " Oh, dad," and Kate kissed her father, " I wish I had known my mother; it had been better for me, and happier for you." * * ' ,i. * 'I ^ CHAPIKR XV. JOINT POTKNTATKS. 1:1? MONO all the houses in a Scot- tish parish the homeliest and kindliest is the manse, for to its door some time in the year comes every inhabitant, from the laird to the cottar wo- man. \\'ithin the familiar and old-fiishioned study, where the minister's chair and writing-table could not be changed without discom- posing the parish, and where there are fixed degrees of station, so that the laird has his chair and the servant lass hers, the minister re- ceives and does his best for all the folk committed to his charge. Here he consults with the factor about some improvement in the arrangements of the little common- wealth, he takes counsel with a farmer about his new leas^ and promises to say a good word to his lordship, he con- firms the secret resolution of some modest gifted lad to study for the holy ministry, he hears the shamefaced con- fession of some lassie whom love has led astray, he gives good advice to a son leaving the Glen for the distant dangerous world, he comforts the mother who has re- ^lii ii 208 KATE CARNlXnK. If '• ! i ■ ' j } -; m t if;'- ! r i 1 \^ h if ;« ', f ' : ;■ . k 1 '. Ii! 5 l&ii. ceived bad news from abroad, fenerations have come in their day to this room, and generations still unborn will come in their joys and sorrows, with their trials and their affairs, while the manse stands and human life runs its old course. And when, as was the case with Dr. Davidson in Drumtochty, the minister is ordained to the parish in his youth, and, instead of hurrying hither and thither, preaching in vacancies, scheming and intriguing, he dwells all his days among his own people, he himself kno.. . three generations, and accumulates a store of practical wisdom for the help of his people. What may be the place of the clergyman in an Fhiglish parish, and what associations of sympathy and counsel the rectory may have for the English farm-labourer, it is not per- mitted to a northern man to know, but it is one good thing at least in our poor land that the manse is another word for guidance and good cheer, so that Jean advises Jock in their poor little perplexity about a new place to " slip doon an' see the Doctor," and Jock, although ap- pearing to refuse, does ** gie a cry at the manse," and comes home to the gude-wife mightily comforted. The manse builders of the ancient days were men of a shrewd eye and much wisdom. If anywhere the traveller in the north country sees a house of moderate size peeping from among a clump of trees in the lap of a hill where the north-easter cannot come and the sun shines full and warm, then let him be sure that is the manse, with the kirk and God's acre close beside, and that the fertile little fields around are the glebe, which the fiirmers see are ploughed and sown and reaped first in the parish. Drumtochty Manse lay beneath the main road, so that the cold wind blowing from the north went over its chimneys, and on the east it was sheltered by the Tochty woods. Southwards JOINT POTENTATES. 209 it overlooked the fields that sloped towards the river, and westwards, through some ancient trees, one study window had a peep of the west, although it was not given to the parish manse to lie of an evening in the glory of the set- ting sun, as did the Free Kirk. Standing at the gate and looking down beneath the beeches that stood as sentinels on either side of the little drive, one caught a pleasant glimpse of the manse garden, with its close-cut lawn and flower-beds and old summer-house and air of peace. No one troubled the birds in that place, :md they had grown shameless in their familiarity with dignities — a jackdaw having once done his best to steal the Doctor's ba.xdana handkerchief and the robins settling on his hat. Irreverence has limits, and in justice to a privileged friend it ought to be explained that the Doctor wore on these occasions an aged wiile-awake and carried no gold-headed stick. His dog used to follow him step by step as he fed the birds and pottered among the flowers, and then it always ended in the old man sitting down on a seat at the foot of th- lawn, with Skye at his feet, and looking across the Glen where he hatl been born and where for nearly half a century he had ministered. Kate caught him once in this attitude, and was so successful in her sketch that some have preferred it to the picture in oils that was presented to the Doctor by the Presb> tery of Muirtown, and was painted by an R. A. who spent a fortnight at the manse and departed with some marvel- lous heads, still to be identified in certain councillors and nobles of the past. Both are hanging in the same house now, far from Drumtochty, and there they call one " Public Capaucity " and the other " Private Capau- city," and you require to have seen both to know our kindly, much- loved Moderate. 14 1:1 'i'. ' ♦ ;!'» ■M H 2IO KATl': CARXF.GIE. m V I As John grew old with his master and mellowed, he would make believe to work close by, so that at times k of/' PRIVATE CAPAULITY, they might drop into talk, recalling names that had died out of the Glen, shrewd sayings that fell from lips now turned to dust, curious customs that had ceased forever, m JOINT POTKN'rATES. 211 all in great charity. Then there would coine a pause, and John would say, "Ay, ay," and go away to the bees. Under the influence of such reminiscences John used to become depressed, and gently prei)are Rebecca for the changes that were not far off, when Drumtochty would have a new minister and a new beadle. "The Doctor's failin', Becca, an' it's no tae be expeckit that a 'II be lang aifter him ; it wudna be fittin', an' a 'm no wantin' 't. Aifter ye 've carried the bukes afore ae minister for five and thirty year, ye 're no anxious for a change ; naebody '11 ever come doon the kirkyaird like the Doctor, an' a' cudna brak ma step ; na, na, there's no mony things a' michtna learn, but a' cudna brak ma step." Rebecca went on with her dinner in silence ; even capable men had weaknesses soihewhere, and she was accustomed to those moralisings. " A 'm the auldest beadle in the Presbytery o' Muir- town — though a' say it as sudna — an' the higher the place the mair we '11 hae tae answer for, Pecca. Nae man can hold the poseetion a 'm in withoot anxieties. Noo there wes the ' Eruption ' in '43 — it could not be ignorance which made John cling to this word, and so we supposed that the word was adopted in the spirit of his- torical irony — " that wes a crisis. Did a' ever tell ye, Rebecca, that there wes juist ae beadle left the next morning tae cairry on the Presbytery of Muirtown?" "Ay, forty times an' mair," replied that uncompromis- ing woman, " an' it wud set ye better tae be servin' the Doctor's lunch than sittin' haverin' an' blawin' there." No sane person in Drumtochty would have believed that any human being dared to address John after this fa.shion, and it is still more incredible that the great I ' .: if I in «# '«^! 12 KAi'K carni:gii:. li JhBI li man shouUl have risen without a word and gone about his duty. .Such a surprising and painful incident suggests the question whether a beadle or any other person in high position ought to be married, and so be exposed to inevitable familiarities. Hillocks took this view strongly in the kirkyard at the time of John's marriage — although neither he nor any one knew with how much reason — and he impressed the fathers powerfully. " Becca cam frae Kilspindie Castle near thirty year syne, and John 's took the bukes aboot the sam2 time; they 've agreed no that ill for sic a creetical poseetion a' that time, him oot an' her in, an' atvveen them the Doctor 's no been that ill-servit ; they micht hae lat weel alane. "She 's no needin' a man tae keep her," and Hillocks proceeded to review the situation, " for Becca 's hed a gude place, an' she disna fling awa' her siller on dress. As for John, a' canna mak him oot, for he gets his stockin's darned and his white stock dune as weel an' maybe better than if he wes mairried." The kirkyard could see no solution of the problem, and Hillocks grew pessimistic. " It '11 be a doon-come tae him, a 'ni judgin', an' '11 no be for the gude o' the parish. He 's never been crossed yet, an' he '11 no tak weel wi' contradickin' . . ." " She wudna daur," broke in Whinny, " an' him the beadle." "Ye ken little aboot weemen," retorted Hillocks, " for yir gude-wife is by hersel' in the pairish, an' micht be a sanct ; the maist o' them are a camsteary lot. A *m no sayin'," he summed up, " that Becca '11 gie the beadle the word back or refuse to dae his biddin', but she '11 be pittin' forrit her ain opeenions, an' that 's no what he 's been accustomed tae in Drumtochty." •JOINT PO'I'KXTA'rKS. •3 They were married one forenoon in the study, with nnunsheugh and Donisie for witnesses — the address given by the Doctor could hardly be distin«,niished troni an ordination charge — and John annoiuu ed his inten- tion of acconii)anying his master that afternoon to the General Assembly, while Rebecca remained in ( harge of the manse. " It wiulna be wise-like for us twa," exclaimed the beadle, " tae be stravagin' ower the country for three or fower days like wild gee ?, but the pairish micht expect something. Noo, a 've hed ma share o' a Presbytery an' a Synod, tae say naethin' o' Kirk Sessions, but a 've never seen an Assembly. " Gin you cud get a place, a' wud spend ma time con- sidering hoo the officer comes in, and hoo he lays doon the buke an' sic-like ; a' micht get a hint," sai'i Jolui, with much modesty . So John went alone for his wedding tour, and being solemnly introduced to Thomas, the chief of all beadles, discussed mysteries with him unto great edification ; but he was chiefly impressed by the Clerk of the Free Kirk Assembly — into which he had wandered on an errand of exploration — who was a fiery-faced old gen- tleman with a stentorian voice and the heart of a little child. '• Ye never heard him cry, ' Officer, shut the door,' afore a vote? " he inquired of the Doctor. '* Weel, ye 've missed a real pleesure, sir ; gin ye stude on Princes Street, wi' the wind frae the richt airt, ye micht hear him. A' never heard onything better dune ; hoo ony man wi' sic a face and voice cud be content ootside the Auld Kirk passes me." John was so enamoured of this performance that after j !;lr m f i RHRMHaW" \i I J ,. ill i" M K.vri-: ( \RNF,c;iK. much rogitalion he niihunlcnofl his mind to the Hnrtor, ami showed how sik h a means ot" j^'rac c might be ex- tended to Drumtochty. " Noo, if there wes nae objection in order, aifter ye hed setlK'd in the pulpit, an' hed yir first snuff, ye micht say, ' OtHcer, shut the door.' Then a' wud close the kirk door deleeberately in sicht o' tiie hale congregation an' come back tae ma place, an' I'etcr Rattray himsel' wudna daur tae show his face aifter that. V'e hae the voice an' the manner, Doctor, an' it's no richt tae wyste them." In public John defended the Doctor's refusal as a prcKjf of his indulgence to the prodigals of the jxarish, but with his intimates he did not conceal his belief that the opportunity hud been lost of bringing the service in Drumtochty Kirk ts absolute ])erfcction. John's own mind still ran on the mighty utterance, and so it came to pass that the question of mastery in the kitchen of the manse under the new re^rime vvas settled within a week after his ecclesiastical honeymoon. " Rebecca " — this with a vv^ice of thunder from the firei)lace, where the beadle \v.» , reading the Muirtoiun Advertiser — " shut the door. The silence was so imperative that John turned round, and saw his spouse standing with a half-dried dish in her hand. " Ma name is Rebecca," as she recovered her speech, " an' there 's nae ither wumman in the hoose, but a 'm judgin' ye werena speakin' tae me or" — with awful severity — " ye 've made a mistak', an' the suner it 's pit richt the better for baith you an' me an' the manse o' Drumtochty. " For near thirty year ye 've gane traivellin' in an' oot STANDINU WITH A HALI'-DRIED DISH IN HKR HAND. I ' 1 ; 4 1 211 KATK CARNECilK. ill ill It ll i h i if o' this kitchen withoot cleanin' yir feet, and ye 've pit yir shoon on the fender, an' himg up yir weet coat on the back o' the door, an' commandit this an' that as if ye were the Doctor himsel', m' a' cud dae naethin', for ye were beadle o' Drunitochty. " So a' saw there wes nae ither wy o't but tae niairry ye an' get some kind of order in the hoose ; noo ye '11 understand the poseetion an' no need anither tellin' ; ootside in the kirV an' pairish ye 're maister, an' a '11 never conter ye, for a' ken ma place as a kirk member an' yir place as beadle ; inside in this hoose a 'm maister, an' ye '11 dae what ye 're bid, always in due submission tae the Doctor, wha 's maister baith in an' oot. Tak yir feet aff that steel bar this meenut " — this by way of practical application ; and when after a brief pause, in which the fate of an empire hung in the balance, John obeyed, the two chief officials in the parish had made their covenant. • Perhaps il is unnecessary to add that they carefully kept their bounds, so that Becca would no more have thought of SL-ggesting a new attitude to John as he stood at the foot of the pulpit stair waiting for the Doctor's descent than John wouid have interfered with the cook- ing of the Doctor's dinner. When the glass was set at fair, they even exchanged compliments, the housekeeper expressing her sense of unworthiness as she saw John in his high estate, while he would indicate that the Doctor's stock on Sacrament Sabbath reached the highest limits of human attainment. The Doctor being left to the free- dom of his own will, laboured at a time to embroil the powers by tempting them to cross one another's fron- tiers, but always failed, because they foresaw the conse- quences with a very distinct imagination. If he asked JOINT POTENrAIKS. Rebecca to convey a message to Drumsheugh, that cautious woman wouUl send in John to receive it from the Doctor's own Hps, and if the Doctor gave some directions regarding dinner to John, Rebecca would appear in a few minutes to learn what the Doctor wanted. It was an almost comphne delimitation of frontiers, and the Doctor used to say that he never quite understood the Free Kn-k theory of the relation between Church and State till he considered the working agree- ment of his two retainers. It was, he once pleasantly said to the minister of Kildrummie, a perfect illuarrntion of " co-ordinate jurisdiction with mutual subordination." It is just possible that some one may not fully grasp those impressive words, in which case let him appreciate other people's accomplishments and mourn his igno- rance, for they were common speech in Drumtochty, and were ^aught at their porridge to the Free Kirk children. It is an unfortunate circumstance, however, that even a scientific fiontier wavers at places, and leaves a piece of doubtful territory that may at any moment become a cause of war. Surely there is not on the face of the Scottish earth a more unoffending, deferential, concilia- tory person than a " probationer," who on Saturdays can be seen at every country junction, bag in haixi, on his patient errand of " supply," and yet it was over his timid bo'ly the great powers of the manse twice quar- relled disastrously. As a guest in the manse, to be received on Saturday evening, to be conducted to his room, to be fed and warmed, to go to his bed at a proper hour — ten on Saturday and ten-thirty on Sabbath — r.o be sent away on Monday morning in gooil time for the train, he was within the province of Rebecca. As a r ji \y i m m ■WW 2lS KArr: carnkc.ik. i-i' niiiiistff to be examined, advised, solemnised, encour- aged, to be got ready on Sabbath morning and again dis- robed, to be edified with suitable conversation and gen- erally made as fit as possible for his work, he was evidently within John's sphere of infiuence. It was cer- tainly the beadle's business to visit the dining-room on Saturday evening, where the young man was supposed to be meditating against the ordeal of the morrow, to get the Psalms for the precentor, to answer strictly profes- sional questions, and generally to advise the neophyte about the sermon that would suit Drumtochty, and the kind of voice to be used. One thing John knew per- fectly well he ought not to do, and that was to invite a probationer to spend the evening in the Doctor's study, for on this point Rebecca was inexorable. " A' dinna say that they wud read the Doctor's letters, an' a' dinna say they wud tak a buke as a keepsake, but a' can never forget ane o' them — he hed a squint and red hair — comin' oot frae the cupboard as a' opened the door. " 'There 's juist ae wy oot o' the room, an' it 's by the door ye cam in at,' a' said ; * maybe ye wud like tae come an' sit in the dinin'-room ; ye '11 be less dis- trackit.' " And Rebecca charged John that no proba- tioner should in future be allowed to enter the Doctor's sanctum on any consideration, John's excuse for his solitary fault was that the lad thought that he could study his sermon better with books round him, and so Rebecca found the young gen- tleman seated in the Doctor's own chair and working with the Doctor's own pen, unblushing and shameless. " Gin ye want Cruden's Concordance " — this was when Rebecca had led him out a chastened man — " or |.i JOINT POTENTATICS. Matthew Henry tae fill up yir sermon, the books 'II be brocht by the church officer." Rebecca's intrusion, in turn, into John's sphere was quite witho.it excuse, and she could only explain her conduct by a general reference to the foolishness of the human heivrl. It came out through the ingenuousness of the probationer, who mentioned casually that he was told Drumtochty liked four heatls in the sermon. "May I ask the name of yir adviser?" said the beadle, with awful severity. "The hoosekeejier? A' thocht so, an' a' wud juist gie ye due intimation that the only person qualified an' entitled tae gie ye information on sic subjects is masel', an' ony ither is unjustified an' unwarranted. " Power heads? Three an' an application is the Doctor's invariable rule, an' gin a probationer gied oot a fourth, a' winna undertake tae say what michtna happen. Drumtochty is no a pairish tae trifle wi', an' it disna like new-fangled wys. Tower ! " and the scorn for this unorthodox division was withering. Rebecca realised the gravity of the situation in the kitchen, and humbled herself greatly. " It wes as a hearer that he askit ma opinion, an' no as an authority. He said that the new wy wes tae leave oot heads, an' a' saw a' the hay spread oot across the field, so a' told him tae gither it ^jp intae ' coles ' (hay- cocks), an' it wud be easier lifted. Maybe a' mentioned fovver — a '11 no deny it ; but it 's the first time a' ever touched on heads, an' it '11 be the laist." Upon those terms of penitence, John granted pardon, but it was noticed on Sabbath that when Becca got in the way of the retiring procession to the manse, the beadle was heard in the kirkyard, " Oot o' ma road, R" iT hr ! u. I lili ^V ^i i ■ ! ■" ' ! 'i i : ' ; 4 ,f ■ ■ :' ■ 220 KATK CARNEGir:. wiimman," in a tone that was full of judgment, and that Rebecca withdrew to the grass as one justly punished. 'I'his excellent woman once accomplished her will, however, in spite of John, ;Mid had nil her days the pleasant relish of a secret triumph. Her one unfulfilled desire was to see the Doctor in his court dress which he wore as Moderator of the Kirk of Scotland during the Assembly time, and which had lain ever since in a box with camphor and such preservatives amid the folds. It was aggravating to hear Drumsheugh and Hillocks — who had both gone to the Assembly that year for the sole purpose of watching the Doctor enter and bow to the standing house — enlarging on his glory in velvet and lace and silver buckles, and growing in enthusiasm with the years. " It 's little better than a sin," she used to insist, " tae see the bonnie suit gien the Doctor by the Countess o' Kilspindie, wi' dear knows hoo much o' her ain auld lace on 't, lyin' useless, wi' naebody tae get a sicht o't on his back. Dinna ye think, man " — this with much per- suasiveness — " that ye cud get the Doctor tae pit on his velvets on an occasion, maybe a Saicrament? The pairish wud be lifted ; an' ye wud look weel walkin' afore him in his lace." " Dinna plead wi' me, wumman ; a' wud gie a half- year's wages tae see him in his grandeur ; but it 's offeecial, div ye no see, an' canna be used except by a Moderator. Na, na, ye can dust and stroke it, but ye '11 never see yon coat on the Doctor." This was little less than a challenge to a woman of spirit, and Rebecca simply lived from that day to clothe the Doctor in embroidered garments. Her opportunity arrived when Kate's birthday came round, and the JOINT POTENTATES. 221 Doctor insisted on celebrating it by a party of four. By the merest accident his housekeeper met Miss Carnegie on the road, and somehow happened to describe the excellent glory of the Doctor's full dress, whereupon that wilful young woman went straight to the manse, nor left till the Doctor had promised to dine in ruffles, in which case she pledged herself that the General would come in uniform, and she would wear the family jewels, so that everything would be worthy of the Doctor's dinner, " Hoo daur ye," began John, coming down from the Doctor's room, where the suit was spread upon the bed ; but his wife did not allow him to continue, explaining that the thing was none of her doing, and that it was only becoming that honour should te shown to Miss Carnegie when she dined for the first time at the manse of Drumtochty. i - . ■■■[ It ♦ C; CHAPTER XVI. I.' ' l^ If ! ■ ■ .:A.. ii if^: DRIED ROSE LEASES. OWNSPEOPLE are so clever, and know so much, that it is only just some- thing should be hidden from their sight, and it is quite certain that they do not understand the irre- sistible and endless fas- cination of the country. J'hey love to visit us in early autumn, and are vastly charmed with the honeysuckle in the hedges, and the corn turning yellow, and the rivers singing in the sunlight, and the pur- ple on the hill-side. It is then that the dweller in cities resolves to retire, as soon as may be, from dust and crowds and turmoil and hurry, to some cottage where the scent of roses comes in at the open window, and one is wakened of a morning by the birds singing in the ivy. When the corn is gathered into t'l'j siack-yard, and the leaves fidl on the road, and the air has a touch of frost, and the evenings draw in, then the townsman begins to shiver and bethink him of his home. He leaves the fading glory with a sense of DRIED ROSE LK.WKS. 223 relief, like one escaping from approaching calamity, and as often as his thoughts turn thither, he pities us in our winter sohtude. " What a day this will be in Drum- tochty," he says, coming in from the slushy streets, and rubbing his hands before the fir^. This good man is thankful to Providence for very slight mercies, since he knows only one out of the four seasons that make our glorious year. He had been wise to visit us in the summer-time, when the light hardly dies out of the Glen, and the grass and young corn pre- sents six shades of green, and the scent of the hay is everywhere, and all young creatures are finding them- selves with joy. Perhaps he had done better to have come north in our spring-time, when nature, throwing off the yoke of winter, bursts suddenly into an altogether indescribable greenery, and the primroses are bloom- ing in Tochty woods, and every cottage garden is sweet with wallflowers, and the birds sing of love in every wood, and the sower goes forth to sow. And though this will appear quite incredible, it had done this comfortable citizen much good to have matle his will, and risked his life with us in the big snowstorm that used to shut us up for fourteen days every February. One might well endure many hardships to stand on the side of Ben Urtach, and see the land one glittering expanse of white on to the great strath on the left, and the hills above Dunleith on the right, to tramp all day through the dry, crisp snow, and gathering round the wood fire of an evening, tell pleasant tales of ancient days, while the wind powdered the glass with drift, and roared in the chimney. Then a man thanked God that he was not confined to a place where the pure snow was trodden into mire, and the thick fog made it dark at mid-day. f|1 'Ml i ' J * i, 224 KATE CARNEGIE. I' I' * it'l f ! This very season of autumn, which frightened the townsfolk, and sent them home in silence, used to fill our hearts with peace, for it was to us the crown and triumph of the year. We were not dismayed by the leaves that fell with rustling sound in Tochty woods, nor by the bare stubble fields from which the last straw had been raked by thrifty hands, nor by the touch of cold in the north- west wind blowing over Ben Urtach, nor by the greyness of the running water. The long toil of the year had not been in vain, and the iiarvest had been safely gathered. The clump of sturdy little stacks, carefully thatched and roped, that stood besitle each homestead, were the visible fruit of the long year's labour, and the assurance of plenty against winter. Let it snow for a week on end, and let the blast from the mouth of Glen Urtach pile up tiie white drift high against the outer row of slacks, the horses will be put in the mill-shed, and an inner stack will be forked into the threshing loft, and all day long the mill will go with dull, rumbling sound that can be heard from the road, while within the grain pours into the corn- room, and the clean yellow straw is piled in the barn. Hillocks was not a man given to sentiment, yet even he would wander among the stacks on an October evening, and come into the firelight full of moral reflections. A vague sense of rest and thankfulness pervaded the Glen, as if one had come home from a long journey in safety, bringing his possessions with him. The spirit of October was on the Doctor as he waited for his guests in the drawing-room of the manse. The Doctor had a special affection for the room, and would often sit alone in it for hours in the gloaming. Once Rebecca came in suddenly, and though the light was dim and the Dcct )r was seated in the shadow by the DRIED ROSl': LKAVKS. piano, she was certain that he had been weeping. He would not allow any change to be made in the room, even the shifting of a table, and he was very particular about its good keeping. Twice a year Rebecca i)olished the old-fashioned rosewood furniture, and so often a man came from Muirtown to tune the piano, which none in the di.strict could play, and which the Doctor kept locked. Two little pencil sketches, signed with a child- ish hand, Daisy Davidson, the minister always dusted himself, as also a covered picture on the wall, and the half-yearly cleaning of the drawing-room was con- cluded when he arranged on the backs of two chairs one piece of needlework showing red and white roses, anc another whereon was wrought a posy of primroses. The room had a large bay window opening on the lawn, and the Doctor had a trick of going out and in that way, so that he often had ten minutes in its quietness ; but no visitor was taken there, except once a year, when the wife of the Doctor's old friend, J.ord Kilspindie, drove up to lunch, and the old man escorted her ladyship round the garden and brought her in by the window. On that occasion, but only then, the curtain was lifted from the picture, and for a brief space they stood in silence. Then he let the silken veil fall and gently arranged its folds, and offering her his arm with a very courtly bow, led the Countess into the dining-room, where Rebecca had done her best, and John waited in fullest Sabbath array. The Doctor wandered about the room — looking out on the garden, mysterious in the fading light, changing the position of a chair, smoothing the old-fashioned needlework with caressing touch, breaking up a log in the grate. He fell at last into a revery before the nre IS 't ? I ii ! i I ■ I ... "1 i P m ! '; I, THE OLD MAN ESCORTED HER LADYSHIP. i^RiKi) Rosi-: li<:avks. 227 — which picked out each hit of silver on his dress aiid shone back from the l)hick velvet — and heard nothing, till John (lung open the door and announced with im- mense majesty, " Cleneral Carnegie and Miss Carnegie." " Welcome, Kate, to the house of your father's friend, and welcome for your own sake, and many returns of this day. May I say how that white silk and those rubies be- come you ? It i;j very kind to put on such beautiful things for my poor little dmner. As for you, Jack, you are glorious," and the Doctor must go over Carnegie's medals till that worthy and very modest man lost all patience. " Ko more of this nonsense ; but, Sandie, that is a desperately becoming get-up of yours; doesn't he siit it well, Kit? I never saw a better calf on any man." "You are both ' rael bonnie,' and ought to be very grateful to me for insisting on full dress. I 'ni sorry that there is only one girl to admire two such handsome men ; it 's a poor audience, but at any rate it is very appreciative and grateful," and Kate courtsied to each in turn, for all that evening she was in great good-humour. " By the way, there will be one more to laugh at us, for I 've asked the Free Kirk minister to make a fourth for our table. He is a nice young fellow, with more humanity than most of his kind ; but did not I hear that he called at the Lodge to pay his respects?" "Certainly he did," said the General, "and I rather took a fancy to him. He has an honest eye and is not at all bad-looking, and tells a capital story. But Kit fell upon him about something, and I had to cover him. It's a v.'onder that he ever came near the place again." " He has been at the Lodge eight times since then," explained Kate, with much comi)osure ; " but he will on no account be left alone with the head of the household. '« I' If it •r^^ 228 KATK CAkNI'XilK. II The (leiicral insiilU'd liiin on |)(»lili(S, i\m\ I hatle. " Of coorse," he explained loyally, " he 's no tae be compared wi' the Doctor, for there's nae minister oot- side the Auld Kirk can hae sic an air, and he 's no set up like the General, but he lookit vveel an' winsome. *' His hair was fiung back frae his forehead, iiis een were fair dancin', an' there wes a bit o' colour in his cheek. He hes a wy wi' him, a '11 no deny, 'at taks wi' fouk. " A 'm no sure that he 's been it mony denners though, Becca, for he hardly kent what he wes daein'. A' juist pit the potatoes on his plate, for he never lat on he saw me ; an' as for wine, a' cudna get a word oot o' him." " Ye 're hfted above ordinary concerns, John, an' it 's no tae be expeckit that a beadle sud notice the way o' a lad wi' a lass," and Becca nodded her head with much shrewdness. " Div ye mean that, Rebecca? That cowes a' ; but it 's no possible. The General's dochter an' a Free Kirk minister, an' her an Esculopian — " " Love kens naither rank nor creeds ; see what ye did yersel', and you beadle o' Drumtochty ; " and John — every man has some weak point — swallowed the com- l)liment with evident satisfaction. Meanwhile they had fallen on this very subject of creeds in the dining-room, and Kate was full of curiosity. Ui .iSi I - W nl ' H ! B ' ^ 234 KATE CARNEGIE. "Will you two padres do me a favour? I knew you would. Well, I want to know for certain what is the difference between the two Kirks in Drumtochty. Now which of you will begin? " and Kate beamed on them both. " Whatever you wish we will do, Kate," said the Doctor ; " but you will have me excused in this matter, if you please, and hear my friend. I am tired of con- troversy, and he has a fair mind, and, as I know well, a ]jleasant wit. Tell Miss Carnegie how your people left the Kirk of Scotland." " Well, the dispute began " — and Carmichael faced his task manfully — " about the appointment of clergy- men, whether it should lie with a patron or the people. Lord Kiispindie had the nomination of Drumtochty, and if every patron had been as wise as our house, then there had been no Disruption." The Doctor bowed, and motioned to Carnegie to fortify himself with port. " Other patrons had no sense, and put in unsuitable men, and the people rebelled, since it is a sad thing for a country parish to have a minister who is not ..." "A gentleman? or straight? Quite so," chimed in Kate ; " it must be beastly." " So a party fought for the rights of the people," resumed Carmichael, " and desired that the parish should have a voice in choosing the man who was to take charge of . . . their souls." "Isn't that like soldiers electing their officers?" inquired the General, doubtfully. " Go on, Carmichael ; you are putting your case capitally; don't plunge into theology, Jack, whatever you do ... it is Sandeman's — a sound wine." Ii^ r)RIP:i) ROSE LEAVES. '■35 "Then what happened?'' and Kate encouraged Car- niichael with her eyes. " Four hundred clergymen threw up their Hvings one day and went out to begin a Free Kirk, where there are no patrons. " You have no idea — for I suppose you never heard of this before — how ministers suffered, Hving and dying in miserable cottages — and the people met for service on the sea-shore or in winter storms — all for conscience sake." Carmichael was glowing, and the Doctor sipped his port approvingly. " Perhaps they ought not to have seceded, and per- haps their ideas were wiong; but it was heroism, and a good thing for the land." " It was splendid ! " Kate's cheek flushed. " And Drumtochty?" " Ah, something happened here that was by itself in Scotland. Will you ask Dr. Davidson "not to interrupt or browbeat me ? 'i'hank you ; now I am safe. " Some one of influence went to old Lord Kilspindie, who had no love to the Free Kirk, and told him that a few of his Drumtochty men wanted to get a site for a Free Kirk, and that he must give it. And he did." "Now, Carmichael," began the Doctor, who had scented danger; but Kate held up her hand with an imperious gesture, and Carmichael went on : — " The same person used to send to the station for the Free Kirk probationer, and entertain him after a lordly fashion — with port, if he were worthy — and send him on his way rejoicing — men have told me. But," con- cluded Carmichael, averting his face from the foot of the table, " wild horses will not compel me to give that good Samaritan's name." i "!1 im ■ ;i; mw •' ' 236 KATK CARNEGIE. H ■ ^ w i.i*/ l"lii lil "Was it you, Davidson, that sanctioned such a pro- ceeding? Why, it was mutiny." " Of course he did, dad," cried Kate ; "just the very thing he would do; and so, I supj^ose, the Free Kirk love him as much as they do yourself, sir?" "As much? far more ..." " Had I known what downright falsehood the Free Kirk minister of Drumtochty was capable of, I would never have allowed h'v.i to open his mouth." " Well, I am satisfied, at any rate," said Kate, " and I propose to retire to the drawing-room, and I know who wouKl love a rubber of whist by-and-by. We are just the number." A minute later Carmichael asked leave to join Kate, as he believed she was to have him for partner, and he must understand her game. " How adroit he is to-night, Jack; " but the General rather pitied the lad, with whom he imagined Kate was playing as a cat with a mouse. " Have you ever seen the face below the veil?" for they did not talk long about whist in the drawing-room. " 1 do not think it would be wrong to look, for the padre told me tiie story. " Ves, a very winning face. His only sister, and he simply lived for her. She was only twelve when she died, and he loves her still, although he hardly ever speaks of her." They stood together before the ha])py girl- face en- shrined in an old man's love. I'hey read the inscrip- tion : " My dear sister Daisy." *' I never had a sister," and Carmichael sighed. " And I have now no brother." Their hands met as they gently lovvere^ your career with much (t !.:f SMOULDKRINC; FIRF^S. 239 interest. It is right, however, to add, and you will ac- cept this in a right spirit, that it was not by preaching that you commended yourself to our people, br.t by your visiting. V'our sermons are what 1 might call . . . ha/.y — you will get a hold of the truth by-and-by, no doubt — but you have a gift for visitation." The exact quality and popularity of this gift was excellently stated by the wife of a working man, who referred with enthusiasm to the edifying character of the Assistant's conversation. "Tammae misses Maister Carmichael juist terrible, for he A'-nd come in on a forenicht an' sit, an' smoke, an' haver wi' the gude man by the 'oor. He wes the niaist divertin' minister a' ever saw in the West Kirk." It will be evident that Carmichael's visitation belonged to a different department of art from that of Dr. David- son. He arrived without intimation by the nearest way that he could invent, clothed in a shooting jacket and a soft hat, and accompanied by at least two dogs. His coming created an instant stir, and Carmichael plunged at once into the life of the household. It is kept on fond record, and still told by the surviving remnant of his flock, that on various occasions and in the course of pas- toral visitation he had turned the hay in summer, had forked the sheaves in harvest-time, had sacked the corn for market, and had driven a gude wife's churn. After which honourable toil he would eat and drink any- thing put before him except boiled tea, against which he once preached with power — and then would sit inde- finitely with the family before the kitchen fire, telling tales of ancient history, recalling the old struggles of Scottish men, describing foreign sights, enlarging on new books, till he would remember that he had only dropped in for ;i ''iw lip :'Ju Ml 1 ', L: S •40 KA'ri-: CARNI'XiTK. ail IxMir, and that two iiu'als must he waitinj^ for him at the inaiisc. His visits wi-rt; understood to he (juite unHnisheti, and he left every house pledged to return and take up things at the point where he had been obhged to break off, and so he came at last in this matter of visitation into a condition of hopeless insolv- ency. His adventures were innumerable and always tnjoyable — falling off the two fir trees that made a bridge over our deeper burns, and being dried at the next fiirm-house — wandering over the moor all night and turning up at a gamekeepei's at daybieak, covered with peat and ravening with htmger — fighting his way through a snowstorm to a marriage, and digging the bridegroom out of a drift — dodging a herd of Highland cattle that thought he had come too near their calves, or driving off Drumsheugh's polled Angus bull with con- tumely when he was threatening Mrs. Macfadyen. If he met the bairns coming from school, the Glen rang with the foolery. When Willie Harley broke his leg, Carmichael brought his dog Jackie — I could tell things of that dog — and devised dramatic entertainments of such attraction that Jamie Soutar declared them no better than the theatre, and threatened Carmichael with a skep of honey as a mark (jf his indignation. As for the old women of the Cden, he got round them to that extent that they would gossip with him by the hour over past days, and ]>etty Macfiirlane was so carried by the minister's sympathy that she brought out from hidden places some finery of her youth, and Carmichael was found by Miss Carnegie arranging a faded Paisley shawl on Betty's shoulders. And was it not this same gay Free Kirkman who trained an eleven to such perfection on a field of Drumsheugh's that they beat the second eleven of Muir- " SMOULDERING FIRES. 241 town gl WITH HIM I!V THE HOUR. So it came to pass that notwithstanding his unholy tendency to Biblical criticism and other theological pedantry, Drumtochty loved C'armichael because he was a man ; and Dr. Davidson, lighting upon him in Hillocks' garden, with the family round him full of joy, would threaten him with a prosecution for poachirg 16 fWW^ 242 K.Vn-: CARNKCIK. under the ecclesiastical (lame Laws, and end by insisting upon him coming to dinner at the manse, when he might explain his conduct. Drumtochty loved him for his very imperfections, and follows his career unto this day with undying interest, recalling his various escapades with huge delight, and declaring to strangers that even in his callow days they had discoveretl that Carmichael was a preacher. Carmichael had occasional fits of order, when he re- pented of his desultory ways, and began afre.sh with much diligence, writing out the names of the congrega- tion with full details — he once got as far as Menzies before he lost the book — mapping the parish into districts, and planning an elaborate visitation. It may have been an accident that the district he chose for experiment embraced Tochty Lodge — where the Car- negies had just settled — but it was natural that his first effort should be thorough. Thv iC were exactly ten Free Kirk families from Tochty Lodge eastwards, and some of these still speak with feeling of the attention they re- ceived, which exceeded all they had ever known before or since. " It wesna that he sat sae lang as a 've heard o' him daein' in the heich (lien, but it wes the times he cam', " Mrs. Stirton used to expatiate, " maybe twice a week for a month. He hed a wy o' comin' through 'Jochty Wood — the shade helpit him tae study, he said — an' jumpin' the dyke. Sail, gin he dinna mak a roadie for himsel' through the field that year. A' wudna say," she used to add in a casual tone, ** but that he micht hae gi'en a cry at the Lodge, but he cudna dae less, passin' the door." Carmichael was astonished himself at the number of SMOULDERING FIRKS. 243 times he was obliged to see (ieneral Carnegie on business, of one kind or another. Sometimes it was about the Mower Show, of which the (leneral had become a patron; sometimes it was the Mighhmd (lames, when the (ieneral's help would be of so much use ; sometimes it was the idea of repairing the old bridge ; sometimes — and Carmichael blushed when it came to this — to get the General's opinion on a military (piestion in the Hiblc. The least he could do in laying such a tax on a good- natured man was to bring a book for his daughter's read- ing, or a curious flower he had picked up on the hill, or a story he had heard in his visiting. Miss Carnegie was generally gracious, and would see him on his way if the day were fine, or show him some improvements in the *' Pleasaunce," or accompany him to Janet's cottage to have a taste of that original woman's conversation to- gether. It came upon Carmichael at a time that he was, inadvertently, calling too frequently at the Lodge, and for a week he would keep to the main road, or even pass the corner of the Lodge with an abstracted air — for he loathed the thought of being deflected from the path of duty by any personal attraction — and used to change the subject of conversation after Janet had spoken for half an hour on Kate. People were speculating in a guarded manner regard- ing the possibility of news, and Janet had quarrelled furiously with Donald for laughing such unworthy rumours to scorn, when the parish was almo&t convulsed by the historic scene in the Free Kirk, and all hoj)e of a roman- tic alliance was blasted. Archie Moncur, elder, and James Macfadyen, deacon, were counting the collection in the vestibule, and the congregation within were just singing the last verse of their first psalm, when General Carnegie and his daughter appeared at the door. fj It ii in. I w^ n^. m r 244 KATE CARNEGIE. w "Has service begun?" whispered Kate, while her father reverently bared his head. " 1 'm so sorry we are late, but you will let us in, won't you, and we shall be as quiet as mice." " A '11 open the door," and Archie explained the geography of the situation, " an' ye '11 juist slip intae the manse pew ; it 's in the corner, wi' curtains roond it, an' nacbody '11 see ye, naither minister nor people ; " and so Carniichael went through the service, and had almost reached the end of his sermon before he knew that Kate was in the church. She was very conscious of him and keenly observant of every detail — his white silk hood thrown into relief by the black (ieneva gown, his fair, flushed face touched with tenderness and reverence, a new accent of affection in his voice as one speaking to his charge, and especially she noted in this Free Kirkman a certain fervour and high hope, a flavour also of subtle spirituality, that were wanting in Dr. Davidson. His hair might have been better brushed, and his whiskers were distinctly ragged — but those things could be easily put right ; then she tossed her head in contempt of herself. It had come to a fine pass when a girl that had carried her heart un- touched through Simla should be concerned about the appearance of a Highland minister. The General was well acquainted with that proud motion, and began to regret that they had come. It was Davidson's blame, who had sent them to hear a good sermon for once, as he said, and now Kate would only find material for raillery. He tugged his moustache and wished that they were again in the open air. When the sermon came, the occupants of the manse pew composed themselves for fifteen minutes' patient SMOULDERING FIRES. 245 endurance, af . r the well-bred fashion of their Church, each selecting a corner with a skill born of long experi- ence. They were not, however, to rest in peace and detachment of mind till the doxology (or its correspond- ing formula in the Scottish Kirk) summoned them back, for this was to be a quite memorable sermon for them and their fellow-hearers and all Drumtochty. Carmichael had been lecturing through Old Testament history, and having come to the drama of F^lijah and Jezebel, had laid himself out for its full and picturesque treatment. He was still at that age when right seems to be all on one side, and a particular cause can be traced down the centuries in all la'ids and under all conditions. For the most part of two days he had wandered over the moor in the bright, cold November weather reconstruct- ing the scene in Israel on Scottish lines, and he entered the pulpit that morning charged with the Epic of Puritan- ism. Acute critics, like Elspeth Alacfadyen, could tell from Carmichael's walk down the church that he was in great spirits, and even ordinary people caught a note of triumph in his voice as he gave out the first Psalm. For the first few sentences of his si^rmon he spoke quietly, as one reserving and restraining himself, and gave a historical introduction which allowed the General to revive some ancient memories of India without interrup- tion. But Kate caught the imperial tone of one who had a message to deliver and was already commanding people to listen. She was conscious of a certain anxiety, and began to wish that she were in front and could see his face, instead of only the side of his head. Then Carmichael threw back his hair with the air of one taking off his coat, and plunged the congregation into the midst of the battle, describing Elijah's forgetfulness of self, pro- !.:■ "fp ~ ' 246 KATE CARNEGIE. ! ■» found conviction of righteousness, high purpose for his nation and devotion to the cause of Jehovah, till Burn- brae and the Free Kirkmen straightened themselves visibly in their pews, and touching so skilfully on the Tyrian princess in her beauty, her culture, her bigotry, her wiles, her masterfulness, that several women — greatly delighting in the exposure of such a " trimmie " — nodded approval. Kate had never given herself to the study of Old Testament history, and would have had some difficulty in identifying Elijah — there was a mare called Jezebel of vicious temper — but she caught the contagion of enthusiasm. If the supreme success of a sermon be to stimulate the hearer's mind, then Carmichael ought to have closed at this point. His people would have been all the week fighting battles for conscience sake, and resisting smooth, cunning temptation to the farthest limits of their lives and in unimaginable v/ays. Kate herself, although a person finite unaffected by preaching, had also naturalised the sermon in her life with much practical and vivid detail. Carmichael was P^lijah, the prophet of the common people; with his simple ways and old-fashioned r :)tions and love of hard- ness, only far more gentle and courteous and amusing than that uncompromising Jew ; and she — why, she would be Jezebel just for the moment, who had come from . . . India into the Glen, and could bring Elijah to her feet if she chose, and make him do her will, and then . . . The girls in the choir before the pulpit noticed the look on Kate's face, and wondered whether the Carnegies would join the Free Kirk. Carmichael had an instinct that he ought to fling over the remaining four pages of his sermon and close the service with a war Psalm, and he told me when I was J ill SMOULDERING P^IRES. 247 if >» 1 staying with him last week that he sacrifices the last head of his sermon almost every Sunday in his city pulpit. But he was only a lad in Drumtochty, and besides was full of a historical parallel, which after a scientific illus- tration is most irresistible to a young minister. No one had ever seen it before, but of course Elijah was John Knox, and Jezebel was Queen Mary of Scots, and then Carmichael set to work afresh, with something less than conspicuous success. Scottish people are always ready for a eulogium on John Knox in church, or on Robert Burns out of church, but the Reformer is rather the object of patriot-'c respect and personal devotion. Netherton snuffed in quite a leisurely way, and the women examined the bonnet of the manse housekeeper, while Knox stood in the breach for the liberties of Scotland, and when Carmichael began to meddle with Mary, he distinctly lost the sympathies of his audience and en- tered on dangerous ground. Scots allow themselves, at times, the ra; • luxury o*" being illogical, and one of the occasions is their fondi'ss for Queen Mary. An austere Puritan may prove that this young woman was French in her ways, ai enemy to the Evangel, a born and practised flirt, and art nd part in the murder of Darnley. A Sctjt will not deny he evidence, and if he be thrust into the box he may bring in the prisoner guilty, but his heart is with the condemned, and he has a grudge against the prosecutor. For he never forgets that Mary was of the royal blood and a thorough Stewart, that her fiice turned men's heads in every country she touched, that she had the courage of a man in her, that she was shamefully used, and if she did throw over that ill-conditioned lad, well ..." Pair lassie, she hed naebody tae guide her, but sail, she focht her battle weel," and out of this judg- ment none can drive an honest Scot. i& :H;- ';iii 248 KATE CARNEGIE. r I " Yon wes a graund discoorse the day, gude wife,'' Jeems hazarded to Elspeth on the way home, '* but a' thocht the minister wes a wee hard on Queen Mary ; there 's nae doot she wes a papist, an' micht hae gien Knox a bit twist wi' the screws gin she cud hae gruppit him, but a' dinna hke her misca'd." " A 've heard him wi' ma ain ears crackin' her up by the 'oor, an' a' canna mak' oot what set him against her the day ; but he 's young," remarked Elspeth, sagely, " an' wi' his age it 's either saint or deevil, an' ae day the one an' the next day the ither; there's nae medium. Noo, maist fouk are juist half an' between, an' Mary hed her faults. " Ma word, Jeems," continued Elspeth with much relish, ■' Mary wud sune hae settled the minister gin she hed been in the kirk the day." " Ay, ay," inquired Jeems, " noo what wud the hizzie hae dune? " "She wud juist hae sent for him an' lookit wi' her een, an' askit him what ill he hed at her, an' gin that wesna eneuch she wud hae pit her handkerchief tae her foce." " Of coorse he cudna hae stude that ; a' micht hae gien in masel'," admitted Jeems, " but Knox wes stiff." " Maister Carmichael is no a Knox, naither are ye, Jeems, an' it 's a mercy for me ye arena. Mary wud hae twistit Maister Carmichael roond her finger, but a 'm judgin' he '11 catch it as it is afore mony days, or ma name 's no Elspeth Macfadyen. Did ye see Miss Car- negie rise an' gae oot afore he feenished?" " Div ye mean that, Elspeth?" and her husband was am ized at such penetration. " Noo a' thocht it hed SMOULDERING FIRES. 249 been the heat ; a' never held wi' that stove ; it draws up the air. Hoo did ye jalouse yon?" " She wes fidgetin' in her seat when he yokit on Mary, an' the meenut he named her ' our Scottish Jezebel ' the Miss rose an' opened the seat door that calm, a' knew she wes in a tantrum, and she gied him a look afore she closed the kirk door that wud hae brocht ony man tae his senses. " Jeems," went on F.lspeth with solemnity, '• a' coont this a doonricht calamity, for a' wes houpin' he wud hae pleased them the day, an' noo a'm sair afraid that the minister hes crackit his credit wi' the Lodge." " Div ye think, Elspeth, he saw her gang oot an' sus- peckit the cause?" " It 's maist michty tae hear ye ask sic a question, Jeems. What gared him mak' a hash o' the baptism prayer, and return thanks that there wes a leevin' father, instead o' mither, and gie oot the 103rd Paraphrase? Tak' ma word for 't, he 's wishin' by this time that he 'd lat puir Mary alane." It was just above Hillocks' farm that the General over- took Kate, who was still blazing. " Did you ever hear such vulgar abuse and . . . abom- inable language from a pulpit? He's simply a raging fanatic, and not one bit better than his Knox. And I ... we thought him quite different . . . and a gentleman. I '11 never speak to him again. Scottish Jezebel : I sup- pose he would call me Jezebel if it occurred to him." ''Very likely he would," replied the General, dryly, " and I must say his talk about Queen Mary seemed rather bad taste. But that 's not the question, Kate, which is your conduct in leaving a place of worship in such an . . . unladvlike foshion." !f. • 1 ■i i I U- 250 KATE CARNECaE. 'i>i I ; i ;i rnU "What?" for this was new talk from her fiither. " As no Carnegie ought to have done, ^'ou have for- gotten yourself and j'our house, and there is iust one thing for you to do, and the sooner t'-'C better." " Father, I '11 never look at him again . . . and after that evening at Dr. Davidson's, and our talking . . . about Queen Mary, and . . . lots of things." " Whether you meet Mr. Carmichael again or not is your own affair, but this touches us both, and you . . . must write a letter of apology " "And if I don't? " said Ki^e, defiantly. " Then I shall write one myself for you. A Carnegie must not insult any man, be he one faith or the other* and offer him no amends." So Donald handed in this letter at the Free Kirk Manse that evening, and left without an answer. TocHTY Lodge. Sir, — ^'our violent and insolent attack on a martyred Queen caused me to lose self-control in your church to-day, and I was unable to sit longer under such language. It has been pointed out to me that I ought not to have left church as I did, and I hereby express regret. The books you were so good as to lend me I have sent : messentrer. — Yours trulv, by Catherine Carnegie. When Carmichael called next day, Donald informed him with unconcealed satisfaction that Lord Hay was lunching with the fimiily, and that the General and Miss Carnegie were going to Muirtown Castle to-morrow for a visit ; but Janet had not lost hope. " Do not be taking this to heart, my dear, for I will be asking a question. What will be making Miss Kate so very angry? it is not every man she would be mind- ^ SMOULDERING FIRES. 251 ing, though he spoke against Queen Mary all the lay. When a woman does not care about a man she will not take the trouble to be angry. I'hat is what I am think- ing ; and it is not Lord Hay that has the way, oh no, though he be a proper man and good at shooting." ' 1 ) 1 'm IS ^t ■ J w P' I ! ' CHAPTER XVIII. LOVE SICKXKSS. m ^ I ill OLLKGE friends settled in petty lowland towns, and meet- ing Carmichael on sacramental occasions, affected to pity him, inquiring curiously what were his means of conveyance after the railway ceased, what time a letter took to reach him, whether any foot ever crossed his door from October to May, whether the great event of the week was not the arrival of the bread cart. Those were exasperating gibes from men who could not take a walk without coming on a coal pit, nor lift a book in their studies without soiling their hands, whose windows looked on a street and com- manded the light of a grocer's shop instead of a sunset. It ill became such miserables to be insolent, and Car- michael taught them humility when he began to sound the praises of 1 )rumtochty ; but he could not make townspeople understand the unutterable satisfaction of the country minister, who even from old age and great cities looks back with fond regret to his first parish on the slope of the Grampians. Some kindly host wrestles with him to stay a fow days more in civilisation, and LOVK SICKNESS. 253 pledges him to run up whenever he wearies of his exile, and the ungrateful rustic can hardly conceal the joy of his escape. He shudders on the way to the station at the drip of the dirty sleet and the rags of the shivering poor, and the restless faces of the men and the unceasing roar of the traffic. Where he is going the white snow is fall- ing gently on the road, a cart full of sweet-smelling roots is moving on velvet, the driver stops to exchange views with a farmer who has been feeding his sheep, within the humblest cottage the fire is burning clearly. With every mile northwards the Glenman's heart lifts; and as he lands on his for-away little station, he draws a deep breath of the clean, wholesome air. It is a long walk through the snow, but there is a kindly, couthy smell from the woods, and at sight of the squares of light in his home, weariness departs from a Drumtochty man. Carmichael used to say that a glimpse of Archie Moncur sitting with his sisters before the fire as he passed, and the wild turmoil of his dogs within the manse as the latch of the garden gate clickeil, and the flood of light pouring out from the open door on the garden, where every branch was feathered with snow, and to come into his study, where the fire of pine logs was reflected from the familiar titles of his loved books, gave him a shock of joy such as he has never felt since, even in the days of his prosperity. " The city folk are generous with their wealth," he was saying to me only last week, when I was visiting him in his West End manse and we fell a-talking of the (ilen, " and they have dealt kindly by me ; they are also full of ideas, and they make an inspiring audience for a preacher. If any man has a message to deliver from the Eternal, then he had better leave the wilderness and come to the IF ; \}-' j :» ■ »- 1 S::! t f 1 If! \ m -tlPi4l 254 KATF, CARNKGIE. city, and if he has plans for the helping of his fellow men, let him come where he can get his work and his labourers. THE DRIVER ST()PS TO EXCHANGE VIEWS. " No, I do not repent leaving the Glen, for the Divine Hand thrust me forth and has given me work to do, and I am not ungrateful to the friends I have made in the iXWK SICKXKSS. 255 city; but Ciod crcMted me a countryman, and" — here CurmiclKicl turned his back to me — "my heart },U)es back to Drumtochty, and the sight of you fills me with . . . longing. "Ah, how this desiderium, as the Rabbi would have said, comes over one with the seasons as they come and go. In spring they send me the first snowdrops from the (ilen, but it is a cruel kindness, for I want to be where they are growing in Clashiegar den. When sum- mer comes people praise the varied flower-beds of the costly city parks, but they have not seen Tochty woods in their glory. I'.ach autumn carries me to the harvest field, till in my study I hear the swish of the scythe and feel the fragrance of the dry, ripe grain. And in winter I see the sun shining on the white sides of Cilen Urtach, and can hanlly keep pen to paper in this dreary room. " What nonsense this is," pulling himself together ; "yes, that is the very chair you sat in, and this is the table we stuck between us with our humble flask of Moselle of a winter's night ... let 's go to bed ; we '11 have no more good talk to-night." When he had left me, I flung open my window in search of air, for it seemed as if the city were choking me. A lamp was flaring across the street, two cabs rattled past with revellers singing a music-hall song, a heavy odour from many drains floated in, the multitude of houses oppressed one as with a weight. How sweet and pure it was now at the pool above Tochty mill, where the trout were lying below the stones and the ash boughs dipping into the water. Carmichael once, however, lost all love of the Glen, and that was after Kate flung herself out of the Free Kirk and went on a visit to Muirtown Castle. He was i 256 KATi: (WRNIXlIi:. ni completely disenchimted and saw everything at its poor- est. Why did they build the manse > low that an able-bodied man could touch the ceiling 01 the lower rooms with an effort and the upper rooms easily? What possessed his predecessor to put such an impossible paper on the study and to stuff the room with book- shelves? A row of Puritan divines offended him — a wooden, obsolete theology — but he also pitched a defence of Queen Mary into a cupboard — ^he had done enough mischief already. 'I'he garden looked S([ualid and mean, without llowers, with black patches peeping through the thin covering of snow, with a row of winter greens opposite the southern window. He had never noticed the (lien so narrow and bare before, nor how grey and unlovely were the houses. Why had not the people better manners and some brightness? they were not always attending funerals and making bargains. What an occupation for an educated man to spend two hours in a cabin of a vestry with a dozen labouring men, considering how two i)ounds could bo added to the Sustentation Fund, or preaching on Sunday to a handful of people who showed no more animation than stone gods except when the men took snuff audibly. Car- michael was playing the spoiled child — not being at all a mature or perfect character, then or now — and was ready to hit out at anybody. His bearing was for the first and only time in his life supercilious, and his ser- mons were a vicious attack on the doctrines most dear to the best of his people. His elders knew not what had come over him, although Elspeth Macfadyen was mysteriously apologetic, and in moments of sanity he despised himself. One day he came to a good resolu- tion suddenly, and went down to see Rabbi Saunderson m m LOVK SICKNFiSS. 257 ii* 1 ml ■ f 1 1 t i R TWO TRAMPS llELU CONFERENCE — the very thought of whose gentle, patient, selfless life was a rebuke and a tonic. When two tramps held conference on the road, and 17 ! U- Aii 258 KATK CARNi:i;lE. one indicated to the other visibly that any gentleman in temporary distress would be treated after a Christian fashion at a neighbouring house, Carmichael, who had been walking in a dream since he passed the lodge, knew instandy that he must be near the Free Kirk manse of Kilbogie. 'I'he means of communication between the members of the nomadic profession is almost perfect in its frequency and accuracy, and Saunder&on's manse was a hedge-side word. Not only did all the regular travellers by the north road call on their going up in spring and their coming down in autumn, but habitut'^s of the east coast route were attracted and made a circuit to embrace so hospitable a home, and even country vagrants made their way from Dunleith and down through Glen Urlach to pay their respects to the Rabbi. They had particular directions to avoid Barbara ■ — expressed forcibly on five different posts in the vicinity and enforced in ])icturesque language, of an evening — and they were therefore careful to Vv'aylay the Rabbi on the road, or enter his study boldly from the front, 'i'he humbler members of the profession contented themselves with ex|)laining that they had once been prosperous tradesmen, and were now walking to Muirtown in search of work — receiving their alms, in silence, with diffidence and shame : but those in a higher walk came to consult the Rabbi on Bible difficulties, which were threatening to shake their faith, and departed much relieved — with a new view of Lot's wif"^, as well as a suit of clothes the Rabbi had only worn three times. "You have done kindly by me in calling" — the vagabond had finished his story and was standing, a very abject figure, among the books — "and in giving me the message from your friend. I am truly thankful that he LOVE SICKNESS. 859 is now labouring — in iron, did you say? and I hope he may be a running artificer. '* You will not set it down to carelessness that I can- not quite recall the face of your friend, for, indeed, it is my privilege to see many travellers, and there are times when I may have been a ni'ii^ster to them on their journeys, as I would be to you also V "lere be anything in which I can serve you. It gric me to say tiiat I have no clothing that I might offer you ; it happens that a very worthy man passed here a few days ago most insuffi- ciently clad and . . . but I should not have alluded to that ; my other garments, save what I wear, are . . . kept in a place of . . . safety by my excellent house- keeper, and she makes their custody a point of con- science ; you might put the matter before her. . . . Assuredly it would be difficult, and I crav^e your par- don for putting you in an . . . embarrassing position ; it is my misfortune to have to-day neither silver nor gold," catching sight of Carmicliael in the passage, " this is a Providence. May I borrow from you, John, some suit- able sum for our brother here who is passing through adversity?" " Do not be angry with me, John " — after the tramp had departed, with five shillings in hand and much triumph over Carmichael on his face — " nor speak bitterly of our fellow men. Verily theirs is a hard lot who have no place to lay their head, and who journey in weariness from city to city. John, I was once a stranger and a wayfarer, wandering over the length and breadth of the land. Nor had I a friend on earth till my feet were led to the Mains, where my heart was greatly refreshed, and now (lod has surrounded me with young men of whose kindness I am not worthy, where- m Hi ilf| ?r& lit 1 260 KATK CARNEGIE. II a:aP !l fore it becometh me to show iviercy unto others." and the Rabbi looked at Carmichael with such sweetness, that the lad's sullenness began to yield, although he made no sign. " Moreover," and the Rabbi's voice took a lower tone, "as often as I look on one of those men of the high- ways, there cometh to me a vision of Him who was an outcast of the people, and albeit some may be as Judas, peradventure one might beg alms of ine, a poor sinful man, some day, and lo it might be . . . the Lord Him- self in a saint," and the Rabbi bowed his head and stood awhile much moved. '* Rabbi," after a pause, dining wluch Carmichael's face had changed, ** you are incorrigible. For years we have been trying to make you a really good and wise man, both by example and j^iecept, and you are dis- tinctly worse than when we began — n.ore lazy, miserly, and uncharitable. It is very disheartening. " Can you receive another tramp and give him a bed, for I am in low spirits, and si , like every other person in trouble I come to ;'0u, you dear old saint, and already I feel a better man." "Receive you, John? It is doubtless selfish, but it is not given to you to know how I weary to see your faces, and we shall have much converse together — there are some points I would like your opinion on — but first of all, after a slight refreshment, we must go to Mains : behold the aid to memory 1 have designed " — and the Rabbi pointed to a large square o^ paper hung above Chrysostom, with " Farewell, George Pitillo, 3 o'clock." " He is the son's son of my benefactor, and he leaves his father's house this day to go into a strange land across the sea : I had a service last night at Mains, and liii! LOVE SICKNESS. 261 expounded the departure of Abraham, but only slightly, being somewhat affected through the weakness of the flesh. There was a covenant made between the young man and myself, that I should meet him at the crosSiUg of the roads to-day, and it is in my mind to leave a parable with him against the power of this present world." Then the Rabbi fell into a meditation till the dog-cart came up, Mains and his wife in the front and George alone in the back, making a brave show of indifference. '* George," said the Ral)bi, looking across the field and speaking as t,o himself, " we shall not meet again in this world, an 1 in a short space they will bury me in Kilbogie kirkynrd, but it vv.U not be in me to lie still for thinking of the people I have loved. So it will come to pass that J may rise — you have ears to understand, George — and I will inquire of him that taketh charge of the dead about many and iiow it fares with them." "And George Pitillo, what of him, Andrew?" <' ' Oh, it's a peety you didna live langer, Mr. Saunder- son, for George hes risen in the warld and made a great fortune.' " "How does it go with his soul, Andrew?" '"Well, you see. Mister Saunderson, George hes hed many things to think about, and he maybe hasna hed time for releegion yet, but nae doot he '11 be turnin' his mind that wy soon.' " " Poor George, that I baptised and admitted to the sacrament and . . . loved : exchanged his soul for the world." The sun was setting fast, and the landscape — bare stubble fields, leafless trees, still water, long, empty road ^5^5 mi I 262 KATE CARNEGIE. "1 k ^i .m^} — was of a blood-red colour fearsome to behold, so that no one spake, and the horse chafing his bit made the only sound. Then the Rabbi began again. "And George Pitillo — tell me, Andrew?" " * Weel, ye see. Mister Saunderson, ye wud be sorry for him, for you and he were aye chief; he's keepit a gude name an' workit hard, but hesna made muckle o' this warld.'" ** And his soul, Andrew? " " * C)o, that 's a' richt ; gin we a' hed as gude a chance for the next warld as George Pitillo we micht be satisfied.' " "That is enough for his old friend; hap me over again, Andrew, and I '11 rest in peace till the trumpet sound." Carmichael turned aside, but he heard something desperately like a sob from the back of the dog-cart, and the Rabbi saying, " Ciod be with you, George, and as your father's father received me in the day of my sore discouragement, so may the Lord God of Israel open a door for you in every land whithersoever you go, and bring you in at last through the gates into the city." The Rabbi watched George till the dog-cart faded away into the dusk of the winter's day, and they settled for the night in their places among the books before the Rabbi spoke. It was with a wistful tenderness that he turned to Carmichael and touched him slightly with his hand, as was a fashion with the Rabbi. "You will not think me indifferent to your V'^lau; because I have not inquired about your a^T^irs, for in- deed this could not be, but the going forth of this iac! 'mm to as LOVE SICKNESS. 263 has tried my heart. Is there aught, John, that it be- comcth you to tell me, and wherein my years can be of any avail? " *< It is not about doctrine I wished to speak to you, Rabbi, although I am troubled thus also, but about . . . you remember our talk." "About the maid, surely; I cannot forget her, and indeed often think of her since the day you brought me to her house and made me known unto her, which was much courtesy to one who is fitter for a book-room than a woman's company. '* She is fair of face and hath a pleasant manner, and surely beauty and a winsome way are from God ; there seemed also a certain contempt of baseness and a strength of will which are excellent. Perhaps my judgment is not even because Miss Carnegie was gracious to me, and you know, John, it is not in me to resist kindness, but this is how she seems to me. Has there been trouble be- tween you?" " Do not misunderstand me. Rabbi ; I have not spoken one word of love to . . . Miss Carnegie, nor she to me ; but I love her, and I thought that perhaps she saw that I loved her. But now it looks as if . . . what I hoped is never to be," and Carmichael told the Queen Mary affair. "Is it not marvellous," mused the Rabbi, looking into the fire, " how one woman who was indeed at the time little more than a girl did carry men, many of them wise and clever, away as with a flood, and still divideth scholars and even . . , friends? " It was not fitting that Miss Carnegie should have left God's house in heat of temper, and it seemeth to us that she hath a wrong reading of history, but it is surely i 'i V. 1 4 M! !i 264 KATE CARNEGIE. good that she hath her convictions, and holdeth them fast hke a brave maid. " Is it not so, John, that friends and doubtless also . . . lovers have been divided by conscience and have been on opposite sides in the great conflict, and doth not this show how much of conscience there is among men? ** It may be this dispute will not divide you — being now, as it were, more an argument of the schools than a matter of principle, but if it should appear that you are far apart on the greater nntters ot faith, then . . . you will have a heavy cross to carry. 15ut it is my mind that the heart of the maiden is right, and that I may some day see her ... in your home, whereat my eyes would be glad." The Rabbi was so taken up with the matter that he barely showed Carmichael a fine copy of John of Damascus he had secured from London, and went out of his course at worship to read, as well as to expound with much feeling, the story of Ruth the Moabitess, showing conclusively that she had in her a high spirit, and that she was designed of (Jod to be a strength to the house of David. He was also very cheerful in the morning, and bade Carmichael good-bye at Tochty woods with encouraging words. He also agreed to assist his boy at the Drumtochty sacrament. It was evident that the Rabbi's mind was much set on this visit, but Carmichael did not for one moment depend upon iiis remembering the day, and so Burnbrae started early on the Saturday with his dog-cart to bring Saunderson tip and deposit him withoat fail in the Free Kirk man»e of Drumtochty. Six timss that day did the minister leave his "action " sermon and take his way to HI t Ti! LOVE SICKNESS. 265 the guest room, carrying such works as might not be quite unsuitable for the old scholar's perusal, and ar- ranging a lamp of easy management, that the night hours might not be lost. It was late in the afternoon before the Rabbi was delivered at the manse, and Uurnbrae gave explanations next day at the sacramental dinner. " It wes just ten when a' got tae the manse o' Kil- bogie, an' his hoosekeeper didna ken whar her maister wes; he micht be in Kildrummie by that time, she said, or half vvy tae Muirtown. So a' set oot an' ransackit the parish till a' got him, an' gin he wesna sittin' in a bothie takin' brose wi' the plowmen an' cxpoundin' Scrijiture a' the time. "He startit on the ancient martyrs afore we were half a mile on the road, and he gied ae testiKiony aifter anither, an' he wesna within sicht o' th(> Rtf'vnn.itiottr when we cam tae the hooses ; a '11 no deny that a let the mare walk bits o' the road, for a' cud hae heard hini a' nicht ; ma bluid 's warmer yet, freends." The Rabbi arrived in great spirits, and refused to taste meat till he had stated the burden of his sermon for the morrow. " If the Lord hath opened our ears the servant must declare what has been given him, but I prayed that the message sent through me to your flock, John, might be love. It hath pleased the Great Shepherd that I should lead the sheep by strange paths, but I desired that it be otherwise when I came for the first time to Drum- tochty. "Two days did I spend in the woods, for the stillness of winter among the trees leaveth the mind disengaged for the Divine word, and the first day my soul was heavy as I returned, for this only was laid upon me, :'1': ''iV !WT^ i I |1 266 KATE CARNEGIE. 'vessels of wrath, fitted to destruction.' And, John, albeit (lod would doubtless have given me strength ac- cording to His will, yet I was loath to bear this awful truth to the people of your charge. " Next day the sun was shining pleasantly in the wood and it came to me that clouds had gone from the face of (iod, and as I wandered among the trees a squirrel sat on a branch within reach of my hand and did not flee. Then I heard a voice, ' I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore wiiji loving kindness have I drawn thee.' " It was, in an instant, my hope that this might be God's word by me, but I knew not it was so till the Evangel opened up on all sides, and I was led into the outgoings of the eternal love after so moving a fashion that I dared to think that grace might be effectual even witii me . . . with me. " God opened my mouth on Sabb'Uh on this text unto my own flock, and the vvortl wns not void. It is little that can be said on sovereign love in two hours and it may be a few minutes ; yet even this may be more than your people are minded to bear. So I shall pictermit certain notes on doctrine; for you will doubtless have given much instruction on the jwrposes of God, and very likely may be touching > t * .nystery in your action sermon." During the <^emng the Rabbi was vt^ry genial — tast- ing Sarah's viands with relish, and comparing her to Rebecca, who made savoury meat, mging C'armichael to smoke without scruple, ;,. •! nllowing liimself to snuff three times, examining the booksiiclvc's with keen ap- preciation, and fniiilly departing with three volumes of modern divinity under h's arm, to reinforce the ;;eleclion .!i !' ' m lovp: sickness. 267 in his room, " lest his eyes should be held waking in the night watches." He was much overcome by the care that had been taken for his comfort, and at the door of his room blest his boy: "May the Lord give you the sleep of His beloved, and strengthen you to declare all His truth on the morrow." Carmichael sat by his study fire for a while and went to bed much cheered, nor did he dream that there was to be a second catastropl.c in the Free Kirk of Drumtochty which would be far sadder than the first, and leave in one heart life-long regret. flHi n '^i ^ '■" ■ 'i'T- S i H CHAPTER X[X. THE WAR OF GOD. '.! '!■! ! B r. Sii p; liil !! T was the way of the Free Kirk that the assisting minister at the Sacrament should sit be- hind the Communion Table during the sermon, and the congregation, without giving the faintest sign of observation, could estimate its effect on his face. When Doctor Dowbig- gin composed himself to listen as became a Church leader of substan- tial build — his hands folded before him and his eyes fixed on the far window — and was so arrested by the opening passage of Cunning- ham's sermon on Justification by Faith that he visibly started, and afterward sat sideways with his ears cocked, Drumtochty, while doubtful whether any Muirtown man could appreciate the subtlety of their minister, had a higher idea of the Doctor ; and when the Free Kirk minister of Kildrummie — a stout man and given to agricultural pursuits — went fast askep under a masterly discussion of the priesthood of Melchi- sedek, Drumtochty's opinion of the intellectual condition of Kildrummie was confirmed beyond argument. •1 li i' THE J'EAR OF GOD. 269 During his ministry of more than twenty years the Rabbi hiul never preached at Drumtoi hty — being fear- ful that he might injure the minister who invited him, or might be so restricted in time as to lead astray by ill- balanced statements — and as the keenest curiosity would never have induced any man to go from the (lien to worship in another parish, the Free Kirk minister of Kilbogic was still unjiuiged in Drumtochty. 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