Christian fiction; Highlands (Scotland) -- Fiction
Two months passed, and they had Ian's answer--when it was well on
into the spring, and weather good for a sea-voyage was upon its way.
Because of the loss of their uncle's money, and the good prospect of
comfort in return for labour, hard but not killing, Ian entirely
approved of the proposal. From that moment the thing was no longer
discussed, but how best to carry it out. The chief assembled the
clan in the barn, read his brother's letter, and in a simple speech
acquainted them with the situation. He told them of the loss of the
money to which he had looked for the power to aid them; reminded
them that there was neither employment nor subsistence enough on the
land--not even if his mother and he were to live like the rest of
them, which if necessary they were quite prepared to do; and stated
his resolve to part with the remnant of it in order to provide the
means of their migrating in a body to Canada, where not a few old
friends were eager to welcome them. There they would buy land, he
said, of which every man that would cultivate it should have a
portion enough to live upon, while those with trades should have
every facility for following them. All, he believed, would fare well
in return for hard work, and they would be in the power of no man.
There was even a possibility, he hoped, that, if they lived and
laboured well, they might one day buy back the home they had left;
or if not they, their sons and daughters might return from their
captivity, and restore the house of their fathers. If anyone would
not go, he would do for him what seemed fair.
Donal shoemaker rose, unpuckered his face, slackened the
purse-strings of his mouth, and said,
"Where my chief goes, I will go; where my chief lives, I will live;
and where my chief is buried, God grant I may be buried also, with
all my family!"
He sat down, covered his face with his hands, and wept and sobbed.
One voice rose from all present:
"We'll go, Macruadh! We'll go! Our chief is our home!"
The chief's heart swelled with mingled gladness and grief, but he
answered quietly,
"Then you must at once begin your preparations; we ought not to be
in a hurry at the last."
An immediate stir, movement, bustle, followed. There was much
talking, and many sunny faces, over which kept sweeping the clouds
of sorrow.
The next morning the chief went to the New House, and desired to see
Mr. Palmer. He was shown into what the new laird called his study.
Mr. Palmer's first thought was that he had come to call him to
account for firing at him. He neither spoke nor advanced a step to
meet him. The chief stood still some yards from him, and said as
pleasantly as he could,--
"You are surprised to see me, Mr. Palmer!"
"I am."
"I come to ask if you would like to buy my land?"
"Already!" said Mr. Palmer, cast on his enemy a glare of victory,
and so stood regarding him. The chief did not reply.
"Well!" said Mr. Palmer.
"I wait your answer," returned the chief.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account