CHAPTER LIII.
THE SCHOOLMASTER’S COTTAGE.
The following night, three of the Scaurnose fishermen—Blue Peter, Bow-o’-meal, and Jeames Gentle—called at the schoolmaster’s cottage in the Alton, and were soon deep in earnest conversation with him around his peat-fire, in the room which served him for study, dining-room, and bed-chamber. All the summer a honey-suckle outside watched his back window for him; now it was guarded within by a few flowerless plants. It was a deep little window in a thick wall, with an air of mystery, as if thence the privileged might look into some region of strange and precious things. The front window was comparatively commonplace, with a white muslin curtain across the lower half. In the middle of the sanded floor stood a table of white deal, much stained with ink. The green-painted doors of the box-bed opposite the hearth stood open, revealing a spotless white counterpane. On the wall beside the front window hung by red cords three shelves of books; and near the back window stood a dark, old-fashioned bureau, with pendant brass handles as bright as new, supporting a bookcase with glass doors, crowded with well-worn bindings. A few deal chairs completed the furniture.
“It’s a sair vex, sir, to think o’ what we a’ jeedged to be the wark o’ the speerit takin’ sic a turn! I’m feart it’ll lie heavy at oor door,” said Blue Peter, after a sketch of the state of affairs.
“I don’t think they can have sunk so low as the early Corinthian Church yet,” said Mr Graham, “and St. Paul never seems to have blamed himself for preaching the gospel to the Corinthians.”
“Weel, maybe!” rejoined Mair. “But, meantime, the practical p’int is—Are we to tyauve (struggle) to set things richt again, or are we to lea’ them to their ain devices?”
“What power have you to set things right?”
“Nane, sir. The Baillies’ Barn’s as free to them as to oorsels.”
“What influence have you, then?”
“Unco little,” said Bow-o’-meal, taking the word. “They’re afore the win’. An’ it’s plain eneuch ’at to stan’ up an’ oppose them wad be but to breed strife an’ debate.”
“An’ that micht put mony a waukent conscience soon’ asleep again —maybe no to be waukent ony mair,” said Blue Peter.