Clergy -- Fiction; Country life -- Scotland -- Fiction; Deception -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction; 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 XXXIII.
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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