Mrs. Barrie and he were sauntering in the garden. He was grave, and as they stopped opposite some familiar flower, both seemed sad. Bell (a most unusual thing for her) was stealthily eyeing them from the kitchen window, having turned up the corner of the little green-striped dimity under-screen. When she saw me, she signalled me to meet her at the back of the manse by jerking her thumb in that direction, and added a slight trembling motion of her clenched hand, to express further that she wanted me to do so without Mr. and Mrs. Barrie’s knowing it. When I reached the back court, there she was, and she at once took speech in hand.
THE TOWN CLERK OF EPHESUS.
“Whatever’s gaun to happen, Mr. Martin? The minister has been bundle-bundlin’ in the study for twa or three days. Mrs. Barrie has been clearin’ oot auld corners, or rather searchin’ into them, for there’s no’ much to clear out that’s either useless or lumbery. Is’t possible we maun leave? It’s no’ possible. I’ve a gude mind to speak to Mr. Barrie mysel’. Sir John was here last night, and I heard him say as he gaed through the lobby, ‘For all our sakes, for your own sake, for your family’s sake, for the sake of the Church of our fathers, for His sake who wishes all His people to be one, think over the matter again before you make a schism in His body. Carry out the good doctrine you preached the other day when lecturing on the town clerk of Ephesus, that we ‘ought to be quiet, and do nothing rashly.’ Mr. Barrie only said, ‘Thank you, Sir John;’ but as he was coming ‘ben’ the lobby from seeing Sir John away, I took the liberty o’ saying, ‘Sir John’s a clever man, a sensible man, and he’s aye been our friend. So, sir, excuse me for saying that I hope you will’—but I got no further; I saw the tear was in Mr. Barrie’s e’e, and that fairly upset me.” Then she added, “Will ye no’ speak till him, Mr. Martin, seriously and firmly? Leave the manse, and the kirk, and the garden!—I wadna leave them if I was him, unless they sent a regiment of dragoons.”
I said I would try. “Na,” said she, “ye maun baith try’t and do’t too. He’s gaun to Edinburgh the morn to the Assembly, and they say he’ll settle whether to leave the Kirk or bide in’t before he comes back here again.”
Leaving Bell, I came to the front of the manse, and stood for a little admiring the scene. The evening sun was about to set behind the western hills. Nature was in her summer mantle of beauty and verdure,—the garden smiling at my feet; the fields beyond, green, loamy, and rich; the stream glistering and murmuring in the valley; the distant hills lighted up with the evening glow; the clouds red, golden, and grey, massed or straggling over the glorious sky. I felt with Bell that to leave such a place was no easy matter, and as I had given little attention to the Church controversy, I was at a loss what to say. Mr. and Mrs. Barrie observed me, and came forward. After a quiet greeting, I said, “This is a lovely scene. I find myself quoting from Marmion, ‘Who would not fight for such a land?’”
I had given the quotation strongly; it startled Mr. Barrie. He said softly and dreamily, as if speaking to himself, “Without were fightings, within were fears;” then looking me steadily in the face he said, “I go to Edinburgh to-morrow,—a most eventful journey for me and mine. In all probability I will return disjoined from the Established Church of Scotland, and no longer minister of the parish of Blinkbonny. Excuse me, Mr. Martin, for feeling perplexed and anxious.”
BELL’S SUMMING UP.
Bell had by this time become a listener, having crept forward very quietly. She looked at me with an imploring face to speak out. I tried to say something, but Mr. Barrie’s look was so calm and overpowering, that I could only get out “that I dared not presume to advise in the matter; that several of his people would follow him if he did find it his duty to come out; and that the Lord would provide.”
This was too much or rather too little for Bell, so she joined the colloquy, addressing herself, however, to me. “Maybe He will, if there’s a real need-be; but what sense or religion either can there be in leaving a kirk and manse provided for us already, and where He has countenanced us and given us peace and prosperity, for a chance o’ anither or maybe nane at a’? I would see anither door opened first; as Sir John said yestreen about the clerk o’ the toun o’ Ephesus, we should do nothing rashly. Think on Mrs. Barrie an’ the bairns, and the garden and the dumb craiturs, and,” looking at the churchyard, she added softly, “wee Nellie.”
Bell had joined the party suddenly, and the above sentence was finished by her almost in a breath. It made Mr. Barrie wince. Mrs. Barrie saw this, and at once left us; she got Bell to follow her, by saying that doubtless Mr. Martin had business with Mr. Barrie. Mrs. Barrie did her best to soothe Bell by agreeing with her: “Yes, Bell, it will be a severe trial to leave the manse.”