Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
Gavin understood now, and I say he would have been no man to leave her
after that; only a moment was allowed him, and it was their last
chance on earth. He took it. His arm went round his beloved, and he
drew her away from Nanny's.
McKenzie found both house and garden empty. "And yet," he said, "I
swear some one passed the window as we sighted it."
"Waste no more time," cried the impatient earl. "We must be very near
the hill now. You will have to lead the horse, McKenzie, in this
darkness; the dog may find the way through the broom for us."
"The dog has run on," McKenzie replied, now in an evil temper. "Who
knows, it may be with her now? So we must feel our way cautiously;
there is no call for capsizing the trap in our haste." But there was
call for haste if they were to reach the gypsy encampment before Gavin
and Babbie were made man and wife over the tongs.
The Spittal dogcart rocked as it dragged its way through the broom.
Rob Dow followed. The ten o'clock bell began to ring.
Chapter Thirty-Three.
WHILE THE TEN O'CLOCK BELL WAS RINGING.
_In the square and wynds--weavers in groups_:
"No, no, Davit, Mr. Dishart hadna felt the blow the piper gave him
till he ascended the pulpit to conduct the prayer-meeting for rain,
and then he fainted awa. Tammas Whamond and Peter Tosh carried him to
the Session-house. Ay, an awful scene."
"How did the minister no come to the meeting? I wonder how you could
expect it, Snecky, and his mother taen so suddenly ill; he's at her
bedside, but the doctor has little hope."
"This is what has occurred, Tailor: Mr. Dishart never got the length
of the pulpit. He fell in a swound on the vestry floor. What caused
it? Oh, nothing but the heat. Thrums is so dry that one spark would
set it in a blaze."
"I canna get at the richts o' what keeped him frae the meeting, Femie,
but it had something to do wi' an Egyptian on the hill. Very like he
had been trying to stop the gypsy marriage there. I gaed to the manse
to speir at Jean what was wrang, but I'm thinking I telled her mair
than she could tell me."
"Man, man, Andrew, the wite o't lies wi' Peter Tosh. He thocht we was
to hae sic a terrible rain that he implored the minister no to pray
for it, and so angry was Mr. Dishart that he ordered the whole Session
out o' the kirk. I saw them in Couthie's close, and michty dour they
looked."
"Yes, as sure as death, Tammas Whamond locked the kirk-door in Mr.
Dishart's face."
"I'm a' shaking! And small wonder, Marget, when I've heard this minute
that Mr. Dishart's been struck by lichtning while looking for Rob Dow.
He's no killed, but, woe's me! they say he'll never preach again."
"Nothing o' the kind. It was Rob that the lichtning struck dead in the
doctor's machine. The horse wasna touched; it came tearing down the
Roods wi' the corpse sitting in the machine like a living man."
"What are you listening to, woman? Is it to a dog barking? I've heard
it this while, but it's far awa."
_In the manse kitchen_:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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