On the Saturday evening after the instructions had been given to
prepare the new deed of entail, Grippy was thoughtful and silent, and
his wife observing how much he was troubled in mind, said,
‘I’m thinking, gudeman, though ye hae no reason to be pleased with this
match Charlie has made for himsel, ye ken, as it canna be helpit noo,
we maun just put up wi’t.’
To this observation, which was about one of the most sensible that
ever the Leddy o’ Grippy made in her life, Claud replied, with an
ill-articulated grumph, that partook more of the sound and nature of a
groan than a growl, and she continued,--
‘But, poor laddie, bare legs need happing; I would fain hope ye’ll no
be oure dure;--ye’ll hae to try an there be any moully pennies in the
neuk o’ your coffer that can be spar’d and no miss’t.’
‘I hae thought o’ that, Girzy, my dawty,’ said he somewhat more
cordially than he was in the practice of doing to his wife; ‘and we’ll
gang o’er the morn and speer for Charlie. I wis he had na been so
headstrong; but it’s a’ his ain fault: howsever, it would na be canny
to gang toom-handed, and I hae got a bit bill for five score pounds
that I’m mindit to gie him.’
‘Five score pounds, gudeman! that’s the whole tot o’ a hundred. Na,
gudeman, I would hae thought the half o’t an unco almous frae you. I
hope it’s no a fedam afore death. Gude preserve us! ye’re really ta’en
wi’ a fit o’ the liberalities; but Charlie, or am mista’en, will hae
need o’t a’, for yon Flanders baby is no for a poor man’s wife. But for
a’ that, I’m blithe to think ye’re gaun to be sae kind, though I need
na wonder at it, for Charlie was ay your darling chevalier, I’m sure
nobody can tell what for, and ye ay lookit down on poor good-natured
Watty.’
‘Haud that senseless tongue o’ thine, Girzy; Watty’s just like the
mither o’t, a haverel; and if it were na more for ae thing than
anither, the deil a penny would the silly gouk get frae me, aboon an
aliment to keep him frae beggary. But what’s ordain’t will come to
pass, and it’s no my fault that the sumph Watty was na Charlie. But
it’s o’ nae use to contest about the matter; ye’ll be ready betimes the
morn’s morning to gang in wi’ me to the town to see the young folks.’
Nothing more then passed, but Claud, somewhat to the surprise of his
lady, proposed to make family worship that evening. ‘It’s time now,
gudewife,’ said he, ‘when we’re in a way to be made ancestors, that we
should be thinking o’ what’s to come o’ our sinful souls hereafter.
Cry ben the servants, and I’ll read a chapter to them and you, by way
o’ a change, for I kenna what’s about me, but this rash action o’ that
thoughtless laddie fashes me, and yet it would na be right o’ me to do
any other way than what I’m doing.’
The big ha’ Bible was accordingly removed by Mrs. Walkinshaw from
the shelf where it commonly lay undisturbed from the one sacramental
occasion to the other, and the dust being blown off, as on the Saturday
night prior to the action sermon, she carried it to the kitchen to be
more thoroughly wiped, and soon after returned with it followed by the
servants. Claud, in the meantime, having drawn his elbow-chair close
to the table, and placed his spectacles on his nose, was sitting, when
the mistress laid the volume before him, ready to begin. As some little
stir was produced by the servants taking their places, he accidentally
turned up the cover, and looked at the page in which he had inserted
the dates of his own marriage and the births of his children. Mrs.
Walkinshaw observing him looking at the record, said,--
‘Atweel, Charlie need na been in sic a haste, he’s no auld enough yet
to be the head o’ a family. How auld were ye, gudeman, when we were
marriet? But he’s no blest wi’ the forethought o’ you.’
‘Will that tongue o’ thine, Girzy, ne’er be quiet? In the presence o’
thy Maker, wheest, and pay attention, while I read a chapter of His
holy word.’
The accent in which this was uttered imposed at once silence and awe,
and when he added, ‘Let us worship God, by reading a portion of the
Scriptures of truth,’ the servants often afterwards said, ‘he spoke
like a dreadfu’ divine.’
Not being, as we have intimated, much in the practice of domestic
worship, Claud had avoided singing a Psalm, nor was he so well
acquainted with the Bible, as to be able to fix on any particular
chapter or appropriate passage from recollection. In this respect he
was, indeed, much inferior to the generality of the Glasgow merchants
of that age, for, although they were considerably changed from the
austerity by which their fathers had incurred the vengeance of Charles
the Second’s government, they were still regular in the performance
of their religious domestic duties. Some excuse, however, might be
made for Claud, on account of his having spent so many years on the
English Borders, a region in no age or period greatly renowned for
piety, though plentifully endowed, from a very ancient date, with
ecclesiastical mansions for the benefit of the outlaws of the two
nations. Not, however, to insist on this topic, instead of reverently
waling a portion with judicious care, he opened the book with a degree
of superstitious trepidation, and the first passage which caught
his eye was the thirty-second verse of the twenty-seventh chapter of
Genesis. He paused for a moment; and the servants and the family having
also opened their Bibles, looked towards him in expectation that he
would name the chapter he intended to read. But he closed the volume
over upon his hand, which he had inadvertently placed on the text, and
lay back on his chair, unconscious of what he had done, leaving his
hand still within the book.
‘We’re a’ ready,’ said Mrs. Walkinshaw; ‘whare’s the place?’
Roused by her observation from the reverie into which he had
momentarily sunk, without reflecting on what he did, he hastily opened
the Bible, by raising his hand, which threw open the leaves, and again
he saw and read,--
And Isaac his father said unto him, Who art thou? and he said, I am
thy son,--thy first-born, Esau;
And Isaac trembled very exceedingly.
‘What’s the matter wi’ you, gudeman?’ said the Leddy; ‘are ye no weel?’
as he again threw himself back in his chair, leaving the book open
before him. He, however, made no reply, but only drew his hand over his
face, and slightly rubbed his forehead.
‘I’m thinking, gudeman,’ added the Leddy, ‘as ye’re no used wi’ making
exercise, it may be as weel for us at the beginning to read a chapter
intil oursels.’
‘I’ll chapse that place,’ said Walter, who was sitting opposite to his
father, putting, at the same time, unobserved into the book a bit of
stick which he happened to be sillily gnawing.
Claud heard what his wife suggested, but for about a minute made no
answer: shutting the Bible, without noticing the mark which Walter had
placed in it, he said,--
‘I’m thinking ye’re no far wrang, gudewife. Sirs, ye may gae but the
house, and ilk read a chapter wi’ sobriety, and we’ll begin the worship
the morn’s night, whilk is the Lord’s.’
The servants accordingly retired; and Walter reached across the table
to lay hold of the big Bible, in order to read his chapter where he had
inserted the stick; but his father angrily struck him sharply over the
fingers, saying,--
‘Hast t’ou neither grace nor gumshion, that t’ou daurs to tak awa the
word o’ God frae before my very face? Look to thy ain book, and mind
what it tells thee, an t’ou has the capacity of an understanding to
understand it.’
Walter, rebuked by the chastisement, withdrew from the table; and,
taking a seat sulkily by the fireside, began to turn over the leaves
of his pocket Bible, and from time to time he read mutteringly a verse
here and there by the light of the grate. Mrs. Walkinshaw, with Miss
Meg, having but one book between them, drew their chairs close to the
table; and the mother, laying her hand on her daughter’s shoulder,
overlooked the chapter which the latter had selected.
Although Claud had by this time recovered from the agitation into
which he had been thrown, by the admonition he had as it were received
from the divine oracle, he yet felt a profound emotion of awe as he
again stretched his hand towards the sacred volume, which, when he had
again opened, and again beheld the selfsame words, he trembled very
exceedingly, insomuch that he made the table shake violently.
‘In the name of God, what’s that?’ cried his wife, terrified by the
unusual motion, and raising her eyes from the book, with a strong
expression of the fear which she then felt.
Claud was so startled, that he looked wildly behind him for a moment,
with a ghastly and superstitious glare. Naturally possessing, however,
a firm and steady mind, his alarm scarcely lasted a moment; but the
pious business of the evening was so much disturbed, and had been to
himself so particularly striking, that he suddenly quitted the table,
and left the room.