“Ay; bring your chair near me, and I’ll tell you what he said. You’ll be to hear it, and as weel now, as again.”
“Surely he had the kind word to-day, and you that fu’ o’ sorrow?”
“He meant to be kind. Surely he meant to be kind. He sent me word to come up to his study, and wee Mysie Balmuto took me there. Eh, Maggie, if I had a room like that! It was fu’ o’ books; books frae the floor to the roof-place. He was standing on the hearth wi’ his back to the fire, and you ken hoo he looks at folk, through and through. ‘Weel, Davie,’ he said, what’s brought you o’er the hills through wind and rain pour? Had you work that must be pushed in spite o’ His work?’”
“I felt kind o’ shamed then at my hurry, and I said, ‘Doctor, you’ll hae heard tell o’ the calamity that has come to our house?’ And he answered, I hae heard; but we willna call it a calamity, David, seeing that it was o’ His ordering.’”
“‘It was very suddent, sir,’ I said, and he lookit at me, and said, ‘His messengers fly very swiftly. Your father was ready, and I do not think He calls the young men, unless He wants them. It was not of the dead you came to talk with me?’ I said, ‘No, sir, I came to ask you aboot Maggie and mysel’.’”
“Then I told him hoo I longed to be a minister, and hoo fayther and the rest had planned to send me to Aberdeen this vera year, and hoo there was still #50 which you wanted me to take, and he never said a word, but just let me go blethering and blundering through the story, till I felt like I was the maist selfish and foolish o’ mortals. When I couldna find anither word, he spake up kind o’ stern like—”
“What did he say? You be to tell me that noo.”
“He said, ‘David Promoter, you’ll no dare to touch the #50 this year. Go back to the boats, and serve the Lord upon the sea for a twelve months. Go back to the boats and learn how to face hunger, and cold, and weariness, with patience; learn to look upon death, and not to fear him. Forbye you cannot leave your sister her lane. Lassies marry young among your folk, and she’ll need some plenishing. You would not surely send her from you with empty hands. You cannot right your own like with wranging hers, not even by a bawbee.’”
“He shouldna hae said the like o’ that. The siller isna mine, nor wasna meant for me, and I’ll ne’er touch it. That I wont.” “Marry Angus Raith, and tak’ it, Maggie. He loves you weel.”
“Angus Raith isna to be thocht o’, and it’s ill-luck mixing wedding talk wi’ death talk. The minister is right; whatna for are we hurrying up the future? Let us be still and wait; good, as well as evil comes, and us not looking for it. I’m sorry you didna hae a pleasanter visit.”