The others hoped the same with stronger emphasis, and not without some angry thoughts on John’s part. But to speak the old man fair was the wisest way. There was no time for many words, for Annie brought in the tea, and Saunners was prevailed upon to stay and share their meal. When it was over it was beginning to grow dark, and he rose to go, and John rose also, saying he would go with him a bit of his way.
The talk between them as they went on was not of Allison, but of quite other persons and matters, and it was kept steadily up and not suffered to turn in that direction. When Saunners spoke of the strange things that might be happening under “our very een,” John listened in silence, or brought him back to the kirk, and the new members, and the good that was being done, till they came to the little house by the side of the moss, out of whose narrow window no welcoming light was gleaming.
“I’m no’ used wi’t yet,” said Saunners with a groan, as he fumbled awkwardly trying to put the clumsy key into the lock. “It’s the hardest part of my day’s work, this coming hame to a dark house. But folk maun bide what’s sent, and be thankful it’s nae waur. Gude-nicht to be. Ye hae shortened my road, and mony thanks. I winna ask ye to come in.”
“No. I must be early up and awa’ in the morning, and it may be long ere I be home again. Ye might look in on my mother whiles, when ye’re down our way. She’s much alone.”
If John had planned his best to win Saunners to friendliness, and to silence concerning the affairs of Allison Bain, he could have said nothing more to the purpose than that. Saunners accepted the invitation, and came now and then to inquire for the health of Mrs Beaton, and “heard only good words from her,” as he said.
He had something to say to most of his friends about the place where he had laid down his wife to her rest beside her own folk, and even spoke of the “daft wifie” that he had seen there; but he never uttered a word as to the story she had told him, and in course of time, as he thought less about it, it passed quite out of his remembrance—which was best for all concerned.
Chapter Seventeen.
“Fear hath a hundred eyes that all agree
To plague her beating heart.”