Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama ClamosaCleland, Robert
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Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa
Cleland, Robert
Historical fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
All through the afternoon she had been in a state of suppressed
excitement, she found it hard to refrain from saying what was
uppermost in her thoughts, yet, what she would have said, she felt she
could not say before her daughter, nor even her son and his friend.
She had been restless and irritable all the way home, breaking in upon
and interrupting the rather listless chat of the others, yet unable to
furnish talk herself. Arrived at home, and unable to get speech of her
spouse, she had fallen foul of the supper arrangements, and rated the
parlour-maid soundly, till that injured damsel withdrew in tears, and
informed the denizens of the kitchen that 'something had come ower the
mistress, for she was carrying on ben the house, like a hen on a het
girdle.'
Having seen all safe for the night, she sought her chamber. There she
seated herself on the chair by the bed-head of her slumbering lord,
and laying her hand on his shoulder, she imperiously whispered,
'James.'
James opened his eyes. 'Is that you, Kirsty? Put out your candle and
come to bed.'
'But I couldn't sleep a wink, James, till I have talked it all over
with you. So waken up!'
'I'm sleeping already, and I won't be disturbed. If you wanted to talk
over things, you should have come home sooner. Come to bed!'
'I cannot lay down my head to-night, or sleep one wink till I have
talked it all over.'
'Then, sit up, by all means, if it pleases you; but put out the candle
and hold your tongue. I've got to be up early in the morning, and I
want to sleep,' and thereupon he turned round on the other side.
'James Sangster! Wake up at once! and listen to me! I'm the mother of
your children, and the wife of your bosom! Saint Peter says you are to
give honour to your wife as the weaker vessel, and I insist on your
attending to what I have to say!'
'Saint Peter wasn't married to a Scotch woman, or he'd have known
better. Small weakness I see in any of you!'
'Mister Sangster! I will not allow the Scriptures to be spoken of in
that irreverent manner. And you an elder of the Fre Church! For
shame!'
'The Scriptures command wives to obey their husbands, and I tell you
to put out your candle, and hold your tongue!'
'I won't have Scripture bandied in his irreverent way! Pray who are
you? to take its sacred precepts in your lips, you worldly-minded man.
But it's none of your fleeting temporal concerns I'm thinking about!
It's the Church itself.'
'Well, my dear, it can keep till morning; it can't take fire to-night.
That's one advantage of it's not being built yet! And you've deaved me
often enough before about Widow Forester's kale-yard and all the rest
of it--Get to bed!'
'It's not the church stance I'm thinking about. It's our souls! I'm
afraid, nay I know we have been placing our immortal interests in the
hands of a man of Belial!'
'What are you havering about, now, gude-wife?--man of Belial?--speak
plain English or honest Scotch!'
'It's true! James Sangster, Roderick Brown is a man of sin!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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