Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 21
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 21
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"I carena," replied Christian. "The Lord maun hae His ain for reward,
and Satan maun hae his ain, too, for punishment. Sin' ever that eery
night when in my night-shirt I followed George into the house, and saw
what I saw, the Spirit o' the Lord has been busy in my heart; and my
aith has been to me nae mair than a windlestrae in the east wind, to be
blawn awa' where it listeth. Ye are, like mysel', o' the Auld Light, and
ken what it is to hae the finger o' command laid upon ye."
"We maun obey; but we maun ken whether the finger is for the will o' the
auld rebel o' pride, wha rebelled in heaven, or Him wha says to the
murderer, Get ye among the rocks or caves o' secrecy, and I will search
ye out, and rug ye into the licht."
"And what for should I no ken whase finger it is?" said wife Christian.
"Have I no seen what I have seen? For what are a' thae things keepit, as
man keeps the apple o' his e'e? Is na the rust and the worm, ay, and
Time's teeth, aye eating, and gnawing, and tearing, so that everything
passes awa' to make room for others, as if the hail warld were a
whirligig turning round like your ain wheel there for ever and ever?"
"Ay, the Lord's hand, na doubt. The deil doesna keep the instruments and
signs o' his evil, but shuffles them awa' in nooks and corners to be out
o' the een o' his victims."
"But hae I no laid my very hand on the fleshless head o' the bonny
misguided creature? Wae tak the man wha brought sae muckle beauty to the
earth to rot, and yet hae nae grave to cover it!"
"Weel mind I o' her," said Ann, as she still made the wheel go round.
"How she sailed up the Wynd wi' her load o' silks and satins, and the
ribbons that waved in the wind, as if to say, Look here; saw ye ever the
like among the daughters o' men?"
"It was left to testify, woman, naething else; but the glimmer o'
Geordie's candle showed me a' the lave. Ay, the very goose I plucked,
and drew, and singed, and put on the spit--what for is it there, think
ye, cummer, but to testify? and the pewter jug I drank out o' that
forenoon, and my ain bed I hadna time to mak--what for but to testify?"
"And punish. But oh, woman, he had sair provocations. Wha was that goose
for?"
"For her lover, nae doubt; for my master wasna expected hame for a week.
And was I no guilty mysel', wha played into her hands, and was fause to
him wha fed me?"
"Haud your peace, then, and say naething. The Lord will forgi'e you."
"Oh God, hae mercy on me, a sinner; and tak awa' frae me this
transgression, that I may lift up my voice in the tabernacle without
fear or trembling!"
The wheel turned with greater celerity and more noise, and wife
Christian was on her knees, beating her bosom and crying for mercy.
"Say nae mair, woman," cried the spinner, "and do nae mair. Let the
corpse lie in the green bed, and a' thing be in the wud-dream o' that
dreary house; do nae mair."
"But the Lord drives me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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