"I may be miserable, and know I am wrong, and yet give way at last, unless something happens," said Meg. The "something" meant support from her father. Then she was ashamed of her own words.
"I will try—but I won't promise," she said wistfully.
There was a tense silence. "I have a message for ye, an' I canna understand it," said Barnabas at last, "but the Lord will make it clear. Listen, these are the words, And the angel said unto him, Cast thy garment about thee and follow Me."
"The man is raving!" exclaimed Mrs. Russelthorpe. And she put her hand on the bell; but he had already turned to go.
He would add no words of his own to the inspired "mandate"; and he walked out of the room and out of the house unmolested, as he had come.
Mrs. Russelthorpe drew a deep breath, that was not so much of relief as of utter astonishment.
"I do not know why I allowed him to go on so long. He is the most extraordinary person I have ever set eyes on! Upon my word, I believe he has walked straight out of Bedlam; but, mad or sane, this is beyond a joke. Margaret! if you so much as look at him again, I'll wash my hands of you. I'll make an end to this."
"Will you?" said Meg dreamily. She did not speak in defiance, only doubtfully, with a vague sense that Barnabas Thorpe's especial Providence might be too strong even for Aunt Russelthorpe. Had he not said his say in spite of her?
"Will you, Aunt Russelthorpe? But I don't think one has really much to do with what happens."
"I've something to do with it," said Aunt Russelthorpe grimly; "and so he will find." And so indeed he did find,—though not in the way she meant.