“Ou, ay, a better girl ne’er broke her cake; but folks said this, and that, and to tell the even-down truth, they put your ain name, sir, wi’ hers—and what but shame could come o’ your name and her name in the same breath?”
“‘Shame!’ Who dared to use my name to shame hers with? Let me tell you, elder, and you may tell every man and woman in Pittenloch, that if I could call Maggie Promoter my wife, I would count it the greatest honor and happiness God could give me. And if I find her to-morrow, and she will marry me, I will make her Mrs. Allan Campbell the same hour.”
“You are an honorable young man, there’s my hand, and I respect you wi’ a’ my heart. Gudewife, mak’ us a cup o’ tea, and put some herring to toast. Maister Campbell will eat wi’ me this night, and we’ hae a bed to spare likewise, if he will tak’ it.”
Allan gratefully ate supper with the elder, but he preferred to occupy his old room in the Promoter cottage. “I have a kind of right there,” he said, with a sorrowful smile, “I hired it for two years, and my term is not quite out yet.”
“And David told me also, that whenever you came, this year, or any year, to gie you the key o’ it. You will find a’ your books and pictures untouched; for when Dr. Balmuto heard tell what trouble Maggie had had to keep Janet Caird oot o’ it, he daured her to put her foot inside; and Davie cam’ himsel’ not long after, and took her back to Dron Point in a whiff and a hurry, wi’ nae words aboot it.”
“I am afraid David is much to blame about his sister. He should have let Maggie stay with him.”
“I’ll no hear David Promoter blamed. He explained the hale circumstances o’ the case to me, and I dinna think the charge o’ a grown, handsome girl like Maggie was comformable, or to be thocht o’. A man that is climbing the pu’pit stairs, canna hae any woman hanging on to him. It’s no decent, it’s no to be expectit. You ken yoursel’ what women are, they canna be trusted wi’ out bit and bridle, and David Promoter, when he had heard a’ that Maggie had to complain o’, thocht still that she needed over-sight, and that it was best for her to be among her ain people. He sent her back wi’ a letter to Dr. Balmuto, and he told her to bide under the doctor’s speech and ken, and the girl ought to hae done what she was bid to do; and so far I dinna excuse her; and I dinna think her brother is to hae a word o’ blame. A divinity student has limitations, sir; and womenfolk are clean outside o’ them.”
The elder was not a man who readily admitted petty faults in his own sex. He thought women had a monopoly of them. He was quite ready to confess that their tongues had been “tongues o’ fire;” but then, he said, “Maggie had the ‘Ordinances’ and the ‘Promises,’ and she should hae waited wi’ mair patience. Davie was doing weel to himsel’ and going to be an honor to her, and to the village, and the country, and the hale Kirk o’ Scotland, and it was the heighth o’ unreason to mak’ him accountable for trouble that cam’ o’ women’s tongues.”
That night Allan slept again in his old room; but we cannot bring back the old feelings by simply going back to the old places. Besides, nothing was just the same. His room wanted, he knew not what; he could not hear the low murmur of Maggie’s voice as she talked to her brother; or the solemn sound of David’s, as he read the Exercise. Footfalls, little laughs, slight movements, the rustle of garments, so many inexpressible keys to emotion were silent. He was too tired also to lay any sensible plans for finding Maggie; before he knew it, he had succumbed to his physical and mental weariness, and fallen fast asleep.
He kept the boat waiting two days in Pittenloch, but on the morning of the third sorrowfully turned his back upon the place of his disappointment. He felt that he could see no one, nor yet take any further step until he had spoken with David Promoter; and late the same night he was in the Candleriggs Street of Glasgow. He was so weary and faint that David’s sonorous, strong, “come in,” startled him. The two men looked steadily at each other a moment, a look on both sides full of suspicion and inquiry. Allan was the first to speak. He had taken in at a glance the tall sombre grandeur of David’s appearance, his spiritual look, the clear truthfulness of his piercing eyes, and without reasoning he walked forward and said, somewhat sadly,