*CONTENTS*
I. THE STICKIT MINISTER'S WOOING
II. THE STICKIT MINISTER WINS THROUGH
III. GIBBY THE EEL, STUDENT IN DIVINITY
IV. DR. GIRNIGO'S ASSISTANT
V. THE GATE OF THE UPPER GARDEN
VI. THE TROUBLER OF ISRAEL
VII. CARNATION'S MORNING JOY
VIII. JAIMSIE
IX. BEADLE AND MARTYR
X. THE BLUE EYES OF AILIE
XI. LOWE'S SEAT
XII. THE SUIT OF BOTTLE GREEN
XIII. A SCIENTIFIC SYMPOSIUM
XIV. THE HEMPIE'S LOVE STORY
XV. THE LITTLE FAIR MAN--
I.--SEED SOWN BY THE WAYSIDE
II.--THE HUMBLING OF STRENGTH-O'-AIRM
III.--THE CURATE OF KIRKCHRIST
XVI. MY FATHER'S LOVE STORY
XVII. THE MAN OF WRATH
XVIII. THE LASS IN THE SHOP
XIX. THE RESPECT OF DROWDLE
XX. TADMOR IN THE WILDERNESS
XXI. PETERSON'S PATIENT
XXII. TWO HUMOURISTS
*THE STICKIT MINISTER'S WOOING[#]*
[#] These stories have been edited chiefly from manuscripts supplied to
me by my friend Mr. Alexander McQuhirr, M.D., of Cairn Edward in
Galloway, of whose personal adventures I treated in the volume called
"Lad's Love," I have let my friend tell his tale in his own way in
almost every case.
It was in the second year of my college life thai I came home to find
Robert Fraser, whom a whole country-side called the "Stickit Minister,"
distinctly worse, and indeed, set down upon his great chair in the
corner as on a place from which he would never rise.
A dour, grippy back-end it was, the soil stubborn and untoward with
early frost. And a strange sound it was to hear as I (Alexander
McQuhirr) came down the Lang Brae, the channel stones droning and
dinnelling on the ice by the third of November; a thing which had not
happened in our parts since that fell year of the Sixteen Drifty Days,
which has been so greatly talked about.
I walked over to the Dullarg the very night I arrived from Edinburgh. I
had a new volume of Tennyson with me, which I had bought with the
thought that he would be pleased with it. For I loved Robert Fraser, and
I will not deny that my heart beat with expectation as I went up the
little loaning with the rough stone dyke upon either side--aye, as if it
had been the way to Nether Neuk, and I going to see my sweetheart.
"Come your ways in, Alec, man," his voice came from the inner room, as
he heard me pause to exchange banter of a rural sort with the servant
lasses in the kitchen; "I have been waitin' for ye. I kenned ye wad
come the nicht!"
I went in. And there by the little peat fire, drowsing red and looking
strangely out of place behind the ribs of the black-leaded "register"
grate, I saw the Stickit Minister with a black-and-white check plaid
about his knees. He smiled a strange sweet smile, at once wistful and
distant, as I entered--like one who waves farewell through a mist of
tears as the pier slides back and the sundering water seethes and widens
about the ship.
"You are better, Robert!" I said, smiling too. Dully, and yet with
dogged cheerfulness, I said it, as men lie to the dying--and are not
believed.
He stretched out his thin hand, the ploughman's horn clean gone from it,
and the veins blue and convex upon the shrunk wrist.
"_Ave atque vale_, Alec, lad!" he answered. "That is what it has come to
with Robert Fraser. But how are all at Drumquhat? Ye will be on your
road ower to the Nether Neuk?"
This he said, though he knew different.
"I have brought you this from Edinburgh," I said, giving him the little,
thin, green volume of Tennyson. I had cut it to save him trouble, and
written his name on the blank page before the title.
I shall never forget the way he looked at it. He opened it as a woman
unfolds a new and costly garment, with a lingering caress of the wasted
finger-tips through which I could almost see the white of the paper, and
a slow soft intake of the breath, like a lover's sigh.
His eyes, of old blue and clear, had now a kind of glaze over them, a
veiling Indian summer mist through which, however, still shone, all
undimmed and fearless, the light of the simplest and manfulest spirit I
have ever known. He turned the leaves and read a verse here and there
with evident pleasure. He had a way of reading anything he loved as it
listening inly to the cadences--a little half-turn of the head aside,
and a still contented smile hovering about the lips, like one who
catches the first returning fall of beloved footsteps.
But all at once Robert Fraser shut the book and let his hands sink
wearily down upon his knee. He did not look at me, but kept his eyes on
the red peat ash in the "register" grate.
"It's bonnie," he murmured softly; "and it was a kind thing for you to
think on me. But it's gane frae me, Alec--it's a' clean gane. Tak' you
the book, Alec. The birdies will never sing again in ony spring for me
to hear. I'm back upon the Word, Alec. There's nocht but That for me
noo!"
He laid his hand on a Bible that was open beside him on the stand which
held his medicine bottles, and a stocking at which his wearied fingers
occasionally knitted for a moment or two at a time.
Then he gave the little green-clad Tennyson back to me with so motherly
and lingering a regard that, had I not turned away, I declare I know not
but that I had been clean done for.
"Yet for a' that, Alec," he said, "do you take the book for my sake.
And see--cut out the leaf ye hae written on and let me keep it here
beside me."
I did as he asked me, and with the leaf in his hand he turned over the
pages of his Bible carefully, like a minister looking for a text. He
stopped at a yellowing envelope, as if uncertain whether to deposit the
inscription in it. Then he lifted the stamped oblong and handed it to
me with a kind of smile.
"There, Alec," he said, "you that has (so they tell me) a sweetheart o'
your ain, ye will like to see that. This is the envelope that held the
letter I gat frae Jessie Loudon--the nicht Sir James telled me at the
Infirmary that my days were numbered!"
"Oh, Robert!" I cried, all ashamed that he should speak thus to a young
man like me, "dinna think o' that. You will excite yourself--you may do
yourself a hurt----"
But he waved me away, still smiling that slow misty smile, in which,
strangely enough, there was yet some of the humoursomeness of one who
sees a situation from the outside.
"Na, Alec, lad," he said, softly, "that's gane too. Upon a dark day I
made a pact wi' my Maker, and now the covenanted price is nearly paid.
_His_ messenger wi' the discharge is already on the road. I never hear a
hand on the latch, but I look up to see Him enter--aye, and He shall be
welcome, welcome as the bridegroom that enters into the Beloved's
chamber!"
I covered my brows with my palm, and pretended to look at the
handwriting on the envelope, which was delicate and feminine. The
Stickit Minister went on.
"Aye, Alec," he said, meditatively, with his eyes still on the red glow,
"ye think that ye love the lass ye hae set your heart on; and doubtless
ye do love her truly. But I pray God that there may never come a day
when ye shall have spoken the last sundering word, and returned her the
written sheets faithfully every one. Ye hae heard the story, Alec. I
will not hurt your young heart by telling it again. But I spared Jessie
Loudon all I could, and showed her that she must not mate her young life
with one no better than dead!"
The Stickit Minister was silent a long time here. Doubtless old faces
looked at him clear out of the red spaces of the fire. And when he
began to speak again, it was in an altered voice.
"Nevertheless, because power was given me, I pled with, and in some
measure comforted her. For though the lassie's heart was set on me, it
was as a bairn's heart is set, not like the heart of a woman; and for
that I praise the Lord--yes, I give thanks to His name!
"Then after that I came back to an empty house--and this!"
He caressed the faded envelope lovingly, as a miser his intimatest
treasure.
"I did not mean to keep it, Alec," he went on presently, "but I am glad
I did. It has been a comfort to me; and through all these years it has
rested there where ye see it--upon the chapter where God answers Job out
of the whirlwind. Ye ken yon great words."
We heard a slight noise in the yard, the wheels of some light vehicle
driven quickly. The Stickit Minister started a little, and when I
looked at him again I saw that the red spot, the size of a crown-piece,
which burned so steadfastly on his check-bone had spread till now it
covered his brow.
Then we listened, breathless, like men that wait for a marvel, and
through the hush the peats on the grate suddenly fell inward with a
startling sound, bringing my heart into my mouth. Next we heard a voice
without, loud and a little thick, in heated debate.
"Thank God!" cried the Stickit Minister, fervently. "It's Henry--my
dear brother! For a moment I feared it had been Lawyer Johnston from
Cairn Edward. You know," he added, smiling with all his old swift
gladsomeness, "I am now but a tenant at will. I sit here in the Dullarg
on sufferance--that once was the laird of acre and onstead!"
He raised his voice to carry through the door into the kitchen.
"Henry, Henry, this is kind--kind of you--to come so far to see me on
such a night!"
The Stickit Minister was on his feet by this time, and if I had thought
that his glance had been warm and motherly for me, it was fairly on fire
with affection now. I believe that Robert Fraser once loved his
betrothed faithfully and well; but never will I believe that he loved
woman born of woman as he loved his younger brother.
And that is, perhaps, why these things fell out so.
* * * * *
I had not seen Henry Fraser since the first year he had come to Cairn
Edward. A handsome young man he was then, with a short, supercilious
upper lip, and crisply curling hair of a fair colour disposed in masses
about his brow.
He entered, and at the first glimpse of him I stood astonished. His
pale student's face had grown red and a trifle mottled. The lids of his
blue eyes (the blue of his brother's) were injected. His mouth was
loose and restless under a heavy moustache, and when he began to speak
his voice came from him thick and throaty.
"I wonder you do not keep your people in better order, Robert," he said,
before he was fairly within the door of the little sitting-room. "First
I drove right into a farm-cart that had been left in the middle of the
yard, and then nearly broke my shins over a pail some careless slut of a
byre-lass had thrown down at the kitchen-door."
Robert Fraser had been standing up with the glad and eager look on his
face. I think he had half stretched out his hand; but at his brother's
querulous words he sank slowly back into his chair, and the grey
tiredness slipped into his face almost as quickly as it had disappeared.
"I am sorry, Henry," he said, simply. "Somehow I do not seem to get
about so readily as I did, and I daresay the lads and lasses take some
advantage."
"They would not take advantage with me, I can tell you!" cried the young
doctor, throwing down his driving-cape on the corner of the old sofa,
and pulling a chair in to the fire. He bent forward and chafed his
hands before the glowing peats, and as he did so I could see by a slight
lurch and quick recovery that he had been drinking. I wondered if
Robert Fraser noticed.
Then he leaned back and looked at the Stickit Minister.
"Well, Robert, how do you find yourself to-night? Better, eh?" he said,
speaking in his professional voice.
His brother's face flushed again with the same swift pleasure, very
pitiful to see.
"It is kind of you to ask," he said; "I think I do feel a betterness,
Henry. The cough has certainly been less troublesome this last day or
two."
"I suppose there are no better prospects about the property," said Dr.
Fraser, passing from the medical question with no more than the words I
have written down. I had already risen, and, with a muttered excuse,
was passing into the outer kitchen, that I might leave the brothers
alone.
So I did not hear Robert Fraser's reply, but as I closed the door I
caught the younger's loud retort: "I tell you what it is, Robert--say
what you will--I have not been fairly dealt with in this matter--I have
been swindled!"
So I went out with my heart heavy within me for my friend, and though
Bell Gregory, the bonniest of the farm lasses, ostentatiously drew her
skirts aside and left a vacant place beside her in the ingle-nook, I
shook my head and kept on my way to the door with rib more than a smile
and "Anither nicht, Bell."
"Gie my love to Nance ower at the Nether Neuk," she cried back, with
challenge in her tone, as I went out.
But even Nance Chrystie was not in my thoughts that night. I stepped
out, passing in front of the straw-thatched bee-hives which, with the
indrawing days, had lost their sour-sweet summer smell, and so on into
the loaning. From the foot of the little brae I looked back at the
lights burning so warmly and steadily from the low windows of the
Dullarg, and my mind went over all my father had told me of what the
Stickit Minister had done for his brother: how he had broken off his own
college career that Henry might go through his medical classes with ease
and credit; and how, in spite of his brother's rank ingratitude, he had
bonded his little property in order to buy him old Dr. Aitkin's practice
in Cairn Edward.
Standing thus and thinking under the beeches at the foot of the dark
loaning, it gave me quite a start to find a figure close beside me. It
was a woman with a shawl over her head, as is the habit of the cotters'
wives in our parish.
"Tell me," a voice, eager and hurried, panted almost in my ear, "is Dr.
Fraser of Cairn Edward up there?"
"Yes," I said in reply, involuntarily drawing back a step--the woman was
so near me--"he is this moment with his brother."
"Then for God's sake will ye gang up and tell him to come this instant
to the Earmark cothouses. There are twa bairns there that are no like to
see the mornin' licht if he doesna!"
"But who may you be?" I said, for I did not want to return to the
Dullarg. "And why do you not go in and tell him for yourself? You can
give him the particulars of the case better than I!"
She gave a little shivering moan.
"I canna gang in there!" she said, clasping her hands piteously; "I
darena. Not though I am Gilbert Harbour's wife--and the bairns' mither.
Oh, sir, rin!"
And I ran.
But when I had knocked and delivered my message, to my great surprise
Dr. Henry Fraser received it very coolly.
"They are only some cotter people," he said, "they must just wait till I
am on my way back from the village. I will look in then. Robert, it is
a cold night, let me have some whisky before I get into that ice-box of
a gig again."
The Stickit Minister turned towards the wall-press where ever since his
mother's day the "guardevin," or little rack of cut-glass decanters, had
stood, always hospitably full but quite untouched by the master of the
house.
I was still standing uncertainly by the door-cheek, and as Robert Fraser
stepped across the little room I saw him stagger; and rushed forward to
catch him. But ere I could reach him he had commanded himself, and
turned to me with a smile on his lips. Yet even his brother was struck
by the ashen look on his face.
"Sit down, Robert," he said, "I will help myself."
But with a great effort the Stickit Minister set the tall narrow
dram-glass on the table and ceremoniously filled out to his brother the
stranger's "portion," as was once the duty of country hospitality in
Scotland.
But the Doctor interrupted.
"Oh, I say!" he exclaimed, when he saw what his brother was doing, "for
heaven's sake not that thing--give me a tumbler."
And without further ceremony he went to the cupboard; then he cried to
Bell Gregory to fetch him some hot water, and mixed himself a steaming
glass.
But the Stickit Minister did not sit down. He stood up by the
mantelpiece all trembling. I noted particularly that his fingers
spilled half the contents of the dram-glass as he tried to pour them
back into the decanter.
"Oh, haste ye, Henry!" he said, with a pleading anxiety in his voice I
had never heard there in any trouble of his own; "take up your drink and
drive as fast as ye can to succour the poor woman's bairns. It is not
for nothing that she would come here seeking you at this time of night!"
His brother laughed easily as he reseated himself and drew the tumbler
nearer to his elbow.
"That's all you know, Robert," he said; "why, they come all the way to
Cairn Edward after me if their little finger aches, let alone over here.
I daresay some of the brats have got the mumps, and the mother saw me as
I drove past. No, indeed--she and they must just wait till I get
through my business at Whinnyliggate!"
"I ask you, Henry," said his brother eagerly, "do this for my sake; it
is not often that I ask you anything--nor will I have long time now
wherein to ask!"
"Well," grumbled the young doctor, rising and finishing the toddy as he
stood, "I suppose I must, if you make a point of it. But I will just
look in at Whinnyliggate on my way across. Earmark is a good two miles
on my way home!"
"Thank you, Henry," said Robert Fraser, "I will not forget this kindness
to me!"
With a brusque nod Dr. Henry Fraser strode out through the kitchen,
among whose merry groups his comings and goings always created a certain
hush of awe. In a few minutes more we could hear the clear clatter of
the horse's shod feet on the hard "macadam" as he turned out of the soft
sandy loaning into the main road.
The Stickit Minister sank back into his chair.
"Thank God!" he said, with a quick intake of breath almost like a sob.