_A HARBOUR OF REFUGE_.
Roderick having bestowed his companion safely in the shieling of
Stephen Boague, did not linger. He started at once down the glen by
the path beaten by the shepherd and his family. Down a glen, over a
mountain shoulder, across rolling upland, zig-zagging between marsh
and peat bog, at length coming out on the road, and in course of time
gaining the inn from which they had started in the forenoon. There was
no lifting or clearing away of the mist, it had thickened rather, and
filled the air with a diffused drizzling spray, which settled
drenchingly on every thing, trickling down rock and herbage, soaking
into clothing and ground, till like sponge, they were distended with
moisture.
He was wet already, as well as more or less bruised, battered, and
foot-sore from his late experience, therefore the drizzle did not add
materially to his discomfort, besides, the ferment in his mind made
him insensible to bodily pains. He had heard from Mrs. Sangster's own
lips when apparent danger had momentarily removed the restraints of
civilized life, and her native egotistic worldliness and greed for
once spoke out for themselves, that she was contemplating a match
between Sophia and Wallowby. His Sophia, for whom like another Jacob
earning his Rachel, he had laboured and borne so long. He had not gone
out each morning for fourteen years, it is true, driving the cattle
before him on the pastures of Auchlippie; but these are not the days
in which human life is measured by centuries. Out of what the
insurance companies would call his presumption of life, he had
bestowed a far larger percentage on Sophia, than were the fourteen
years devoted by the patriarch to winning his bride, not to mention
difference in intensity. Notwithstanding the beauty of the sacred
episode, one cannot but suspect some coolness, along with the much
patience required to watch the beloved object drifting from the bright
bloom of girlhood into the sun-burnt maturity of thirty summers, and
still keep waiting to work out the bargain. Roderick had been working
out his bridal on the other line, not ministering to the greed of a
grasping father-in-law, but submitting to whims, exactions, and
pretensions innumerable from the coarse-fibred mother of his charmer.
How she had taken upon her to regulate his orthodoxy!--had sat in
judgment on all that he did! reproved and exhorted him! and how he had
borne it all, and attributed it to ignorant good intentions, for the
love of Sophia! Sophia, whom he had picked blaeberries for in
childhood, and worshipped openly ever since.
And had he not been given fair encouragement too? When he returned
from Edinburgh for his college vacations, had he not always met a
special welcome there, and received invitations to come and stay as
frequently as even he could desire? And since then, had he not become
in every respect what this most fickle of mothers the most approved?
Had he not cast aside the offer of a good manse and stipend, and come
forth with the faithful to suffer tribulation for righteousness' sake?
Had he not been zealous, and showed his desire to spend and be spent
in the cause of truth? True, he had obeyed the command of conscience,
and not of Mrs. Sangster in all this; but his line of conduct had been
the one she belauded as most noble and holy, and she had already, in
the earlier time, let him clearly see that personally she approved
him, and had given him every facility for becoming intimate with her
girl. And now without the pretence of falling out or complaint against
him, she was deliberately contemplating to marry her to another man.
Was ever such treachery, fickleness, worldly-mindedness, and all that
is worst?
Poor young man! It _was_ bad treatment looked at from _his_ point of
view,--it was black, and deserving of all the hard names he applied to
it; but then there are more points of view than one, and who shall
decide which is to prevail over the others? His was the suitor's point
of view, but there is also that of the sought, and likewise that of
her family. A family can wed its flower and pride but once, and it is
neither unnatural nor improper that it should try to do its best,
which, speaking in the general, means to secure a rich husband for the
girl. The most mercenary will admit that riches do not necessarily
bring happiness, but the moral point is whether happiness is possible
without them. Many have doubted whether happiness is compatible with
poverty, but no one has ventured to assert that the poverty is an
element in the happiness.
Therefore, friend Roderick, there is something to be said on the side
of the old woman. It is not to _your_ interests she can be held bound,
further than the truth and justice due to all our fellow creatures
require, but to her daughter's. As to how the case may appear from the
daughter's point of view, you have no right to say, or even to think,
as you have never put it in her power to tell you, and a maiden may
not divulge the secret of her preferences unasked. She has encouraged
you, you say? But how? Answered you civilly when you spoke to her?
Could a lady do less? Has not been averse to your company? Why should
she be? Could she civilly have shown a distaste for it? And supposing
she felt no distaste, but rather liked it? Must a woman be prepared to
marry any man whose company she finds pleasurable, or less irksome
than solitude? You never spoke the word, my friend, that would have
called her to speak for herself, and therefore you have no right to
complain; though I grant that Mrs. Sangster may have been
inconsiderate and fickle, and may be mercenary. Still, if when she
extended her encouragement, you did not tender your proposal, and
thereby nail her, she must be allowed to change her mind if she
desires. As to Sophia herself, the probability is, that her affections
are, and will remain, in an amorphous form, or let us say in solution,
until such time as her relatives provide her with a husband round whom
they may properly crystallize, as they no doubt will, and she will
prove a pattern wife and mother. I fear, however, that as regards the
nucleus round which her affections are to gather, as in the case of
sugar (another sweet substance), any stick will answer quite well.
Love is blind, and young love headstrong, therefore it is little
wonder if these cold-blooded reflections did not occur to Roderick. He
fretted and fumed as he walked along, and was thoroughly miserable,
while the moisture dripped steadily from his hat brim, and meandered
in little brooks down his neck.
Eventually he reached the inn, and bade the landlord send out a gig or
tax-cart at once, to bring in Mrs. Sangster. The landlady came
forward, officious to welcome a guest, and eager to show hospitality
to her minister.
'Wae's me, sir, but ye _are_ drouket! Past a' kennin', ye micht hae
been soomin' e'y loch, forby climbin' the craig. Stap in by, aside the
twa gentlemen, an' warm yersel'. An' I'se bring ye a drap toddy to het
yer insides, an' syne ye'll gang to yer bed, an' I'se toast yer breeks
afore the kitchen fire. Lord pity me! the man's as blae as a corp
about the gills--clean fushionless an' forfuchan wi' cauld an' weet!
Gude grant he bena taeh doon wi' a fivver o' tap o't. Ye'll be for yer
denner, sir, whan Mrs. Sangster comes in? But that winna be for twa
hours yet; sae gang tae yer bed, sir, ey now, an' I'se see to dryin'
yer claes.'
Roderick entered the room where sat Peter Sangster and his friend. A
roaring fire of wood billets and peat blazed on the hearth, each had a
smoking tumbler at his elbow, and soothed himself with a pipe. There
was a steaminess and a flavour of broadcloth and shoe leather diffused
about the apartment, but it was evident the gentlemen themselves were
nearly dried, and subsiding into a sort of drowsy comfort under the
united influence of warmth, toddy, and tobacco.
'Ahoy! Sir preacher! Turned up at last? and what have you done with my
mother?'
'She is safe in a shieling up one of the cross glens, and I have
already ordered a gig to be sent for her. You may expect her in little
more than an hour. We very nearly got lost on the hill in consequence
of waiting to look for an eye-glass she had dropped. When that was
found, you had gone out of hearing, and we found ourselves alone.
Eventually we had recourse to the old device of following running
water, and a pretty course it led us, over slippery rock faces, and
into pools of ice-cold water. Your mother thought she was drowned more
than once, and at last gave up all hope of getting home alive, and but
that she could hear the barking of dogs and the cries of children a
little way below, she would have collapsed altogether.'
'Hm,' said Peter, 'I can imagine--I am glad it was you and not me! The
old lady is apt to cut up rough under difficulty. However I had my own
troubles. See my coat! Split right up the middle and only held
together by the collar and the two pins which Mrs. Tuppeny here has
tagged it together with. I have to sit bolt upright, or they run into
me like skewers whenever I lean back. Perhaps they are skewers.'
'Ha!' broke in Wallowby, 'we heard a screach overhead, and when I
looked up, there were a pair of boot heels within a foot of my eye,
the legs belonging to them were only dimly visible, and whatever was
above that was out of sight in the mist. The guide got hold of one, I
took the other, while Miss Sophia stood well to the one side. Then we
said one, two, three, and gave a pull together. There was a crack of
rending broad-cloth and oh! such an unearthly howl. He must have
fancied he was being dragged down into the pit of darkness. Eh, Peter?
and there stood my gentleman clutching his fingers into the cravats of
his two preservers and panting like a steamboat!--Pretty exhibition of
nerves, my fine fellow!--What will they say at the club when they hear
of it?'
'You shut up! for a clumsy blunderbuss! You nearly dislocated my hip
joint with your idiotic wrenching, and then wonder that I cried out!'
'What has become of Miss Sophia?' asked Roderick.
'Tea and bed upstairs,' replied Wallowby with a guffaw; 'the landlady
marched her up stairs to bed first thing, like a naughty child who had
wet her frock, and I heard her say, she would dry her coats for her.
What are coats by the way? Scotticé for garters? I know what breeks
are.'
'Here's a lad speerin' for Mistress Sangster, gentlemen,' said Mrs.
Tuppeny opening the door and pushing in a damp and touselled-looking
youth, who grasped his dripping 'Tam o' Shanter' tightly in both
hands.
'I was to speer for Mistress Sangster hersel.'
'She has not come in yet, but I am her son.'
'An' there's Master Brown, the young leddy's brither,' added Mrs.
Tuppeny, 'I'm thinkin' it'll be a' richt.'
'A weel, sir, General Drysdale sends his compliments to Mistress
Sangster---- He sends his compliments' (and he looked into the crown
of his hat as though he expected to find them there) 'an' he's taen
the leeberty o' bringin' Miss Brown hame wi' him til Inchbracken, to
dry hersel', an' he'll tak her hame the morn. He fand her e'y glen,
down by fornent the Herder's Scaur, a' weel an' droukit like, an' for
fear she suld tak the cauld, he juist on wi' her til a pownie, an'
they're gane skelpin' hame til Inchbracken.'
'Very kind of General Drysdale,' said Roderick, giving the messenger a
shilling. 'Here! Mrs. Tuppeny, give him a jorum of your toddy! He
looks as wet as any of us.'
'An it's yer pleasure, sir, I'se gie him a gude drink o' yill---- Cock
the like o' _him_ wi' the best Glenlivet! An' I'm no for giein' toddy
to thae hafflin callants, no ways; they dinna need it, an' it's an ill
trick to learn them. The weet's nae harm tae cottar folks' bairns,
they're aye plouterin' e'y burns, an' it juist keeps them caller. But
say the word, sir, an' he's hae the yill!' and so saying she pulled
the messenger out before her and closed the door.
'I can't say much for your sister's politeness, Brown,' said Peter.
'When a lady accepts a man's escort, she is bound to stick to it, I
should say, and not go off with the first stranger who rides up in the
mist, without even a word of apology or farewell. I don't see why she
could not have stuck by me.'
'And broken her neck down that precipice where you so nearly stuck
fast yourself?' said Roderick. 'Your hands seem to have been full
enough taking care of yourself. I think one may without presumption or
profanity regard General Drysdale's opportune appearance as
providential.'
'But it wasn't General Drysdale's opportune appearance! It was that
stuck-up puppy his son.'
'And a far more ominous appearance for your peace, too, my boy,' said
Wallowby with a chuckle. 'But grin and bear it, old man. You will only
be laughed at if you get mad.'
Mrs. Tuppeny looked in again.
'Mister Brown! yer room's ready up the stair. Come awa, sir, an' tak
aff yer claes, an' I'se dry them for ye. Ye'll get yer death, sir, an'
ye bena quick! Juist see til the dub ye're stan'in' in! A' dreepit
frae yersel! An' the reek frae yer fore pairts as ye staund fornent
the lowe--ne'er mind the drap toddy-come awa! I'se brew ye a soup
better an' stronger whan ye're in ower amang the blankets.'
So Roderick, half pushed and half exhorted, found himself forthwith
upstairs and in bed, while Mrs. Tuppeny stood beside him with a noggin
of her hottest and strongest toddy.
'Drink it down, sir! It wadna harm a sookin' bairn. An' ye're needn't.
Noo see gin ye canna sleep a wee. It wad do ye gude. Gin ye dinna tak
tent, ye'se no wag yer pow in a poopit this mony a day.'