"Those must have been fine times," said the schoolmaster smilingly; and thereupon his host and hostess launched into long tales of the old days, when the forest came up to the door, and of those older and happier days in the homeland across the sea.
Big Malcolm and his wife lived much in the past now, and, when the guest displayed a kindly interest in their history, they opened their hearts even to speak of Callum, their light-hearted, bright Callum, whose end had been so untimely. The schoolmaster heard also the manner of his death; how it had brought the great preacher, and how in the double grave in the Glen by the river one of the Fighting MacDonalds, at least, had buried all his feuds. And they told him, too, of their only daughter, the beautiful little Margaret, who had been Scotty's mother. Monteith asked many questions concerning her, and Scotty listened eagerly, but his new friend offered no explanation of his interest.
When it was time to depart, Big Malcolm was for insisting that he should spend the night with them; but when he declared that he must return to the Glen, or Mrs. Thompson would be worried, his hostess seized the teapot again, and another supper was spread out, of which the guest had perforce to partake before leaving.
That finished, Big Malcolm reverently laid aside his bonnet, and Scotty brought him the old yellow-leaved Bible. The old man read the 103d Psalm in a triumphant tone that showed he had passed all his temptations and trials, and now in a serene old age his soul blessed the Lord for His guidance.
And then they sang a Psalm, Old Farquhar coming out from his corner to join them. They sang it in English, in deference to the guest's lack of Gaelic, and the brown rafters rang to the solemn old Scottish tune in harmony with the beautiful words:
"Oh, taste and see that God is good:
Who trusts in Him is bless'd!"
And listening, the man of the world experienced a vague sensation of something like regretful envy. Had he not, in his broader life, missed some uplifting joy, some great blessing in which these old people rejoiced?
While Monteith was taking a lingering farewell and promising a speedy return, Scotty went to a corner and lit the lantern, and in spite of the schoolmaster's protests, insisted upon accompanying him for a mile to show him the short road across the swamp.
The two walked side by side along the snowy path, the lantern flashing fitfully amongst the bare branches and dark boles of the trees. Monteith chatted away pleasantly, but Scotty answered only in monosyllables. He was employed in making desperate efforts to bring about some allusion to the condition of the schoolhouse. But the new master seemed to have totally forgotten school affairs, and when they came to the end of the forest path and stood upon the Glenoro road, saying good-night, this strange man had not in the smallest way recurred to the shameful subject. Scotty was in despair. "It would be a fool's trick we were doing!" he burst forth, as Monteith held out his hand in farewell, "if we could jist be having another day——" He stopped overcome.
The new master did not seem to need an explanation of this apparently irrelevant speech. "Could you fix it all up in one day?" he inquired in a business-like manner.