White Heather: A Novel (Volume 3 of 3)Black, William
General
White Heather: A Novel (Volume 3 of 3)
Black, William
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
As for him, he slunk aside hurriedly and all abashed and dismayed. He
did not pause until he was safe away from any pursuit; and there was a
lowering expression on his face, and his hand shook a little. He could
only hope that she had not seen him. Instantly he had seen her, he knew
that he dared not meet the beautiful clear eyes, that would regard him,
and perhaps mutely ask questions of him, even if there was no indignant
reproach in them. For during these past few days he had gradually been
becoming conscious of the squalor and degradation into which he had
sunk; and sometimes he would strive to raise himself out of that; and
sometimes he would sink back despairing, careless of what might become
of him or his poor affairs. But always there was there in his room that
mystic white token that Meenie had sent him; and at least it kept him
thinking—his conscience was not allowed to slumber; and sometimes it
became so strong an appeal to him—that is to say, he read into the
message such wild and daring and fantastic possibilities—that he would
once more resume that terrible struggle with the iron bands of habit
that bound him.
’What is the matter wi’ Ronald?’ Kate Menzies asked of her cronies. ’He
hasna been near the house these three or four days.’
’I’m thinking he’s trying to earn the Blue Ribbon,’ said old Mr. Jaap.
’And no thriving weel on’t, poor lad,’ said Jimmy Laidlaw. ’Down in the
mouth’s no the word. He’s just like the ghost o’ himsel’.’
’I tell ye what, Mistress,’ said the big skipper, who was contemplating
with much satisfaction a large beaker of hot rum and water, ’the best
thing you could do would be just to take the lad in hand, and marry him
right off. He would have somebody to look after him, and so would you;
as handsome a couple as ever stepped along Jamaica Street, I’ll take my
oath.’
The buxom widow laughed and blushed; but she was bound to protest.
’Na, na, Captain, I ken better than that. I’m no going to throw away a
business like this on any man. I’ll bide my ain mistress for a while
longer, if ye please.’
And then mother Paterson—who had a handy gift of facile
acquiescence—struck in—
’That’s right, Katie dear! Ye’re sich a wise woman. To think ye’d throw
away a splendid place like this, and a splendid business, on any man,
and make him maister! And how long would it be before he ate and drank
ye out o’ house and ha’?—set him up with a handsome wife and a splendid
business thrown at his heed, and scarcely for the asking! Na, na, Katie,
woman, ye ken your own affairs better than that; ye’re no for any one to
come in and be maister here.’
’But I’m concerned about the lad,’ said Kate Menzies, a little absently.
’He met wi’ none but friends here. He might fa’ into worse hands.’
’Gang up yersel’, Mistress, and hae a talk wi’ him,’ said the skipper
boldly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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