“Hark!” exclaimed Agnes. There was the sound of flying hoofs—beat, beat,—along the road. With one spring Jeanie reached the window and pulled back the curtain. “It’s David!” she cried. “It’s David, my lad!” and then all trembling she sank down, sobbing out her joy.
CHAPTER XV
WHO HAD THE WILL
It was, without doubt, David who was coming pounding along the path up from the woods, and who, dusty and travel-stained, drew up his reeking horse before the door. The men gathered closely about him, the women craned their necks from the door. “What is the matter, Davy, lad? What kept ye, Dave? Are ye ill, lad? Look at the hoss, he’s near spent,” were some of the various remarks made, as David, elbowing his way through the crowd, entered the house. He answered no questions, but made straight for Mrs. M’Clean. “Where’s Jeanie?” he asked hurriedly, and following her glance he went toward the door of the next room, paused not to knock, but entered forthwith.
Jeanie, the tears still standing in her eyes, was waiting. David held out his two hands. “Am I too late, lass? It’s not my fault. I beeta get here long ago, but it’s a tale I must tell later. I am safe now, but am I too late? Will ye turn me off for being behindhand? Do you doubt me?”
“Not I, David,” said Jeanie, giving him her hands. “I’m thankful you’ve come to no mishap. I never doubted you, but I feared ill had befallen you.”
“Will ye tak me as I am, dusty an’ worn with travel? I’ve come forty mile the morn. Will ye listen to me tale now, or will ye stand up wi’ me before the meenister so?” David was lapsing into the dialect of his childhood, in his excitement.
“Ay, David, I will marry you first, and hear the tale after. It’s not too late; the sun was at noon but half an hour ago, and the company will be glad not to miss the wedding.”
He took her by the hand, and led her into the next room. The guests fell back into their places, whispering, nudging, wondering. In consideration of the feast awaiting, and in view of the curiosity which pervaded the entire party, the minister’s harangue was not so lengthy as usual, and the two standing before him were wedded in short order, but in the prayer there were fewer allusions to the wife’s being in obedience to her husband, and more expressions of thankfulness than were commonly spoken; the good pastor evidently felt that the young man had escaped disaster, and did not hesitate to say so.
The final blessing had hardly been pronounced when the curious friends crowded around. “Yer story, David; ye promised it.”