Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
"Do you see anything strange in the nicht, Rob?" Tosh asked
apprehensively.
"It's setting to rain," Dow replied. "I dinna see it, but I feel it."
"Ay," said Tosh, eagerly, "but will it be a saft, cowdie sweet
ding-on?"
"Let the heavens open if they will," interposed Spens recklessly. "I
would swap the drought for rain, though it comes down in a sheet as in
the year twelve."
"And like a sheet it'll come," replied Dow, "and the deil'll blaw it
about wi' his biggest bellowses."
Tosh shivered, but Whamond shook him roughly, saying--
"Keep your oaths to yoursel', Rob Dow, and tell me, hae you seen Mr.
Dishart?"
"I hinna," Rob answered curtly, preparing to drive on.
"Nor the lassie they call the Egyptian?"
Rob leaped from the dogcart, crying, "What does that mean?"
"Hands off," said the precentor, retreating from him. "It means that
Mr. Dishart neglected the prayer-meeting this nicht to philander after
that heathen woman."
"We're no sure o't, Tammas," remonstrated the kirk officer. Dow stood
quite still. "I believe Rob kens it's true," Hendry added sadly, "or
he would hae flown at your throat, Tammas Whamond, for saying these
words."
Even this did not rouse Dow.
"Rob doesna worship the minister as he used to do," said Spens.
"And what for no?" cried the precentor. "Rob Dow, is it because you've
found out about this woman?"
"You're a pack o' liars," roared Rob, desperately, "and if you say
again that ony wandering hussy has haud o' the minister, I'll let you
see whether I can loup at throats."
"You'll swear by the Book," asked Whamond, relentlessly, "that you've
seen neither o' them this nicht, nor them thegither at any time?"
"I so swear by the Book," answered poor loyal Rob. "But what makes you
look for Mr. Dishart here?" he demanded, with an uneasy look at the
light in the mudhouse.
"Go hame," replied the precentor, "and deliver up the machine you
stole, and leave this Session to do its duty. John, we maun fathom the
meaning o' that licht."
Dow started, and was probably at that moment within an ace of felling
Whamond.
"I'll come wi' you," he said, hunting in his mind for a better way of
helping Gavin.
They were at Nanny's garden, but in the darkness Whamond could not
find the gate. Rob climbed the paling, and was at once lost sight of.
Then they saw his head obscure the window. They did not, however, hear
the groan that startled Babbie.
"There's nobody there," he said, coming back, "but Nanny and Sanders.
You'll mind Sanders was to be freed the day."
"I'll go in and see Sanders," said Hendry, but the precentor pulled
him back, saying, "You'll do nothing o' the kind, Hendry Munn; you'll
come awa wi' me now to the manse."
"It's mair than me and Peter'll do, then," said Spens, who had been
consulting with the other farmer. "We're gaun as straucht hame as the
darkness'll let us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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