Clergy -- Fiction; Country life -- Scotland -- Fiction; Deception -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
"Ay, he can pray for a black frost as if it was ane o' the Royal
Family. I ken his prayers, 'O Lord, let it haud for anither day,
and keep the snaw awa'.' Will you pretend, Jeames, that Mr. Duthie
could make onything o' Rob Dow?"
"I admit that Rob's awakening was an extraordinary thing, and
sufficient to gie Mr. Dishart a name. But Mr. Carfrae was baffled
wi' Rob too."
"Jeames, if you had been in our kirk that day Mr. Dishart preached
for't you would be wearying the now for Sabbath, to be back in't
again. As you ken, that wicked man there, Jo Cruickshanks, got Rob
Dow, drucken, cursing, poaching--Rob Dow, to come to the kirk to
annoy the minister. Ay, he hadna been at that work for ten minutes
when Mr. Dishart stopped in his first prayer and ga'e Rob a look.
I couldna see the look, being in the precentor's box, but as sure
as death I felt it boring through me. Rob is hard wood, though,
and soon he was at his tricks again. Weel, the minister stopped a
second time in the sermon, and so awful was the silence that a
heap o' the congregation couldna keep their seats. I heard Rob
breathing quick and strong. Mr. Dishart had his arm pointed at him
a' this time, and at last he says sternly, 'Come forward.' Listen,
Joseph Cruickshanks, and tremble. Rob gripped the board to keep
himsel' frae obeying, and again Mr. Dishart says, 'Come forward,'
and syne Rob rose shaking, and tottered to the pulpit stair like a
man suddenly shot into the Day of Judgment. 'You hulking man of
sin,' cries Mr. Dishart, not a tick fleid, though Rob's as big as
three o' him, 'sit down on the stair and attend to me, or I'll
step doun frae the pulpit and run you out of the house of God,'"
"And since that day," said Hobart, "Rob has worshipped Mr. Dishart
as a man that has stepped out o' the Bible. When the carriage
passed this day we was discussing the minister, and Sam'l Dickie
wasna sure but what Mr. Dishart wore his hat rather far back on
his head. You should have seen Rob. 'My certie,' he roars,
'there's the shine frae Heaven on that little minister's face, and
them as says there's no has me to fecht.'"
"Ay, weel," said the U. P., rising, "we'll see how Rob wears--and
how your minister wears too. I wouldna like to sit in a kirk whaur
they daurna sing a paraphrase."
"The Psalms of David," retorted Whamond, "mount straight to
heaven, but your paraphrases sticks to the ceiling o' the kirk."
"You're a bigoted set, Tammas Whamond, but I tell you this, and
it's my last words to you the nicht, the day'll come when you'll
hae Mr. Duthie, ay, and even the U. P. minister, preaching in the
Auld Licht kirk."
"And let this be my last words to you," replied the precentor,
furiously; "that rather than see a U. P. preaching in the Auld
Licht kirk I would burn in hell fire for ever!"
This gossip increased Gavin's knowledge of the grim men with whom
he had now to deal. But as he sat beside Margaret after she had
gone to bed, their talk was pleasant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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