THE DISRUPTION.

Clutha Leader, Volume II, Issue 106, 21 July 1876, Page 3

THE DISRUPTION.

A TALE OF TRYING TIMES.

CHAPTER XVI, Had we never loved so kindly, Had wo never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, Wo had no'or been broken-hearted. Burns. Following the directions given bim by Robert Aflock, Mr Duncanson had little difficulty in finding- the lodgings ot Miss Montgomery. He found her not alone, but in the company only of Mrs Calmsougli. The first meeting of tbe youthful lovers, after such a long and harassing separation, was too tender to be witnessed by any third person ; and Mrs Calmsougli, feeling this, considerately withdrew just as the student entered the room. Agnes was so agitated that it was with difficulty she could advance to meet him, and his emotions were so violent that he could do no more than falteringly pronounce her name, as his own, in a low-breathed tone, escaped her lips. " You are pale and thin, my Agnes ; I fear you have been unwell since 1 saw you last," wore the first words he uttered after in some measure regaining his composure. " Yes, James/ she replied, " I have been ill but not seriously, and I feel quite well again, though thinner than I used to be. But you are pale and thin too, James ; surely you must have been ailing, and yet I always heard that you were well. " My health has been good enough, Agnes ; I wish I was sure that you had been as well ; but I have suffered a good deal of anxiety since we parted last, and, I fear, so have you." A long conversation ensued concerning' the events already narrated, and the lovers were sad almost to tears, and merry almost to laughter, according as they described to each other the painful circumstances which had occured to blight their happiness, or the amusing characters and incidents they had lately been involved with. Robin Afleck and Jean Brown were spoken of in terms of warm interest and admiration, while their eccentricities were canvassed with much gaiety aud good humour. Mr M'Quirkie, Dr Snapperdudgeon, the Rev. Mr Aspen, Ringan Stimperton, Dr Crimp, and Mr Bacon, all passed in review, and afforded much diversion to the fond pair whom fate had recently brought into contact with so many oddities. But as the evening wore on, smiles became fewer and sighs more frequent ; but there was a tacit understanding on both sides that much of the most serious importance yet remained to be discussed.

Mr Duncanson had come charged with an intention which hitherto he had not had the firmness to intimate, but he gradually mustered resolution to broach the subject, though at a cost of feeling which he was unable to conceal. He could not command ease enough of mind to adopt circuitous expressions, or to slope the way to what he knew would be a startling announcement to his sensitive companion. But, after some spasmodic efforts, in which his overpowering feelings shook every fibre in his frame, he at length abruptly said—" Agnes, 1 need not tell you how dear you have been and are, and ever will be, to me, for I daresay you are well aware of the deep hold you have on my affections ; but it has now become my painful duty to say that I fear we are not destined for each other." Here he made an involuntary pause, for the violence of his feelings paralysed his utterance.

As he spoke, Agnes trembled and became deadly pale. Then hiding her face with her hands, while the tears fell fast between her slender fingers, she sobbed convulsively, and said in a voice almost too low to be heard, " James, do you wish to break off ?" He tried to iind words to declare how far this was from his wish, but only managed to articulate " No." After a pause he controlled his emotions sufficiently to enable him to proceed with his explanation, and he said with an earnestness of tone that betrayed the intensity of his feelings — " No, my own Agnes, it is far from my wish to break off. Heaven alone knows how intimately you are bound up in my happiness, and how much you are to me the charm of life. I have no views apart from you — no hopes of enjoyment on earth without you ; but I feel that it is due to your happiness and my own honour that I should release you from your engagement to me."

" Oh, James," said the agitated girl, turning on him a look of reproachful tenderness, " how can you speak so harshly ? What do you mean by such cruel words 1 Why should your honor or my happiness demand our separation?"

*' Dearest Agnes ! do not let distrust ■of my affection a moment afflict you. It is not because I love you too little, but too much — if that be possible — tbat I feel compelled to renounce the bright hopes I once indulged in, in connection with you." Ag-ain Agnes buried his face in her hands and sobbed as if her heart would break. " Tell me, James," at last she said, " how I have deserved this un kindness. You have seen a face you can fancy nioie (for, as you say, I am grown pale and thin now), but you will never meet a more devoted heart than mine. I little thought that four ( months' separation could so far turn

your mind from me as to make you wish our engagement at an end. Oh, James ! James ! you could not propose tbis if you had ever felt as much attached to me as I have been to you."

" Oh, Agnes ! -those are cruel words. I solemnly tell you I love you, and wi'l never cease to love .you, above all created beings ; and why should you doubt my word ?"

" James Duncanson, you are the last man living 1 would doubt. Ever since T saw you first, your word has been to me as gospel truth, and that, above all else, made me give up my whole heart to you with the most perfect confidence that it was well bestowed. But when you speak of releasing me from my engagement, what can I understand but

that you wishd to be released from yours !"

"Do you remember, Agnes, when yon told me ycu were an ambitious girl, and that nobody hut a nobleman — not

a nobleman of the Queen's making, but a nobleman by the grace of God — would please you V

" Yes, James, I mind it well j and, as I thought you one of these, I was frank enough to tell you so."

" Well, then, it is because I would not defraud you of the object of your virtuous ambition that I speak of parting. I would not be the nobleman of nature's making which you took me for, and which I wish to be, but a mean-spirited fellow, if I were to insist on holding you to an engagement after all the circumstances in which it was made are so altered as to make a match between us unequal, and every way disadvantageous to you."

" What do you allude to, James T

" Why should you ask, Agnes ? Surely the disparity which now exists between us is easily seen. Last year, when I presumed to seek your favor, and had the happiness of being successful, we stood on equal ground. I was poor and dependent, no doubt, but my prospects were flattering. You were no richer than myself, and might reasonably be expected to look no higher than to share a humble lot like mine. Now all this is changed. lam cast adrift on the world penniless and friendless, and at a time, too, which I cannot hope by my own exertions — and holding the principles which I have conscientiously adopted — to attain to anything like comfortable circumstances. On the other hand the star of your fortune is rising. I hear, and, from the bottom of my heart, I rejoice at it, Agnes, for your sake, though it but blights my own, hopes the more — that a rich legacy " " Oh, James, can you think me so mean and mercenary as to ■"

11 Nay, hear me, Agnes, for I owe it to myself to say that in such altered circumstances as we are now placed in — you an heiress, and I an halfeducated, poverty-struck student — I will never be so despicably mean as to take advantage of your simplicity so far as to hold you bound to me, notwithstanding the engagement between us." " This is a cruel kind of generosity, James. You are the same to me as ever, if you really bear unaltered love to me ; so let no worldly consideration come between us. lam yours through good and bad fortune alike, as I fondly pledged myself to be ; and never let a word be said about circumstances. If I had Jean Brown's cleverness, I would scold you well for ever thinking so meanly of me as to suppose I could wish to be free of my pledge for any change* that had happened, or that ever can happen, except in yourself. I admit you have vindicate^ the nobility of character I gave you credit for, but I must complain that you allow none of it to me. But you ought to consider, that when I set my heart so much on having a husband of noble feelings, I miu-ht have some share of them myself, and not be a fickle, heartless creature, to be turned about by every wind of fortune."

" You are not only noble, Agnes, but divine. You have been hitherto the sole object of my love, but now, were it not sinful, I would adore you. Still, Agnes, why should I shut my eyes to the obstacles I see so plainly between us ? Your father, you admit, is bitterly prejudiced against me for the side I have taken in the Church controversy, and there is little hope can ever be reconciled to me. He is rendering you unhappy on my account, and the thought of this destroys my peace, and makes me feel a guilty responsibility for all you are made to suffer. I cannot endure the upbraidings of conscience for being the cause of placing you at variance with your only living parent."

" You have touched on the source of all my distress, and I confess my father's displeasure is hard for me to bear ; but it need not cause you any remorse, for I can submit to it patiently so long as I know it is undeserved,"

While the young lady spoke these words, the sound of approaching voices was heard, which she immediately recognised as those of Mr Calmsough and her father. Hour after hour had passed away so insensibly with the lovers, that they had not observed that the time had arrived when the two elderly gentlemen might be expected to return. Accordingly, when they came, Mr Duncanson was still with Miss Montgomery, though he intended to have departed long before; and now that he was taken by surprise, he knew not what to do, and Agnes was greatly terrified for she foresaw the consequences. Mr

Montgomery was detained some time in the' adjoining room, for Mrs Calmsough had the presence of mind and kindness 30 to contrive matters in the hope of preveniing a storm.

During this interval Agnes distinctly heard her father ask Mrs Calmsough what had become of her, and, when informed that she was in the parlor with a visitor, demanding wbo she was engaged with. His impatient manner of speaking made it plain that his questions could not be evaded, and that he would enter immediately, to satisfy himself by personal observation.

Had the young lady been possessed of Jean Brown's inventiveness and dexterity, she might perhaps have contrived for her lover's escape or concealment, some means which he might have adopted had he been of Robin Afleck's cast of character. But Agnes had no turn for artifice, and Mr Duncanson was too high-minded to stoop to anything of a clandestine nature. They therefore sat still — she trembling, and he not altogether at ease- awaiting the entrance of the angry old man. He was in a more irascible mood than usual j for the meeting he was just returned from had proved inharmonious and unsatisfactory. It had revealed

wild differences of opinion among those who were generally considered united in support of the Church against the innovations of the Non-intrusion party. Mr Calmsough and a few more had advised conciliation ; but Dr . Snapperdudgeon and others had contended for the propriety of enforcing the laws as they stood, seeing that the Auchterai'der cas. had been decided finally, and with expenses, against the Non-intru-sionists; while Sir John Baldwin, seconded by Mr M'Quirkie, and with a few other supporters, had spoken strongly in favor of a new appeal to Government for the modification, not the abolition, of patronage. The meeting had been all at sixes and sevens, and had broken up in confusion, without anything having been resolved on. Old Gideon Montgomery's severity of temper inclined him to take Dr Snapperdudgeon's view of the subject ; but he had got fairly bewildered by the diversity of opinion expressed, and his irritability was proportionably excited. For the first time he began to contemplate the disruption of the Church as a possible event, and all his long-cherished prejudices and prepossessions regarding matters ecclesiastical were roused into violence. It was in this frame of mind that he learnt that rM Duncanson was with his daughter. In vain did Mr and Mrs Calmsougli try to dissuade him from breaking in on the young people. Their attempts only incensed him the more, and threw him into a paroxysm of coughing, to which he was very much subject. As soon as he had recovered a little, he, without any ceremony, entered ,the room where the youthful pair were seated. Agnes rose to meet him, and courageously introduced her lover to him by name. He knew the young man well enough before, and noticed him now only with a sulky look and a constrained inclination of the head. But to his daughter, he said—" Get you to bed, girl ; I have something to say to Mr Duncanson by himself." Agnes did not dare to disobey such a peremptory command ; but, before leaving the room, she had the firmness to take an affectionate farewell of Mr Duncanson, and to say to him, loud enough for her father to hear, " Remember, James, if you are not made welcome to call on us as often as you find it convenient, the fault will not be mine ; / shall be giad to see you." " Get away, I tell you, you silly girl !" said her father in a tone of great asperity, which again threw him into one of his fits of coughing. Agnes went away in tears, casting A longing, lingering, look behind, and waving a parting adieu to her lover as she closed the door. It was some time before Mr Montgomery gathered breath to speak ; meantime the student stood patiently waiting to hear what he had to say* " Mr Duncanson," at length said the old man, addressing him sternly, " I think you must have been long ago aware that your visits to my daughter were not acceptable." " I beg your pardon, sir, but you heard what she just now said herself." " 1 don't care what she says, and neither would you if you acted in a proper spirit." " Excuse me, Mr Montgomery ; but allow me to say that I cannot view this matter in this light. 1 have been in the habit of supposing that as Miss Montgomery is more deeply concerned in it than any one else, her own inclination was most to be considered." " I tell you, then, you are very much mistaken. I have no objection to humour her to any reasonable extent, but I will not surrender my authority over her, as a parent, so far as to allow her to throw herself away to gratify any foolish romantic notion she may have formed." " You surely must have formed a very bad opinion of me, Mr Montgomery, when' you put the case in this I manner." " Well, suppose I have, would it not be most becoming m you to act as if you had a good opinion of yourself, and avoid comii'g where you are not welcome ? You know you profess to be „ N on-intr usionist."

" I do, but am unable to see how that should be thought a fault."

"Of course, it will be no fault in your eyes, I'll warrant — a merit, rather, you may possibly suppose. But you ought' to consider, young man, That I, who have been so long an office-bearer in the Established Church, and a member of it for a much longer period, cannot look with favour on any one who is labouring to undermine the venerable inst *■"

"I beg your pardon> Mr Montgomery, but I protest most solemnly that I "

" Don't interrupt me, sir ; I won't be interrupted. You have not a word to say for yourself, and I'll not hear a word. Little wonder it is that I, in my old age, should be offended to see boys — striplings — rise up to disturb and destroy the peace of the Church which our fathers died for. I don't know a worse symptom of a youth than a presumptuous disposition to meddle with settled institutions. Who gave you, and the like of you, discernment to see blemishes in the Church which have never been seen till now ? Who made you and such as you wiser than all who have gone before you 1 Can you tell me that ? Och ! heeh ! hoch !" — another fit of coughing concluded this indignant tirade.

When it was over, Me Duncanson ventured to take up the thread of the debate. " Admitting," said he, " that my judgment may be immature, and the principles I have adopted erroneous, still I have not takem them or urged them in a presumptuous spirit, and they have originated not with me or any like me, but with respected fathers of the Church." " Ay — who are they ?" " Why, Dr Chalmers himself for one." " A hot-brained declaimer. That man is sufficient to unsettle the world.'' " And Dr Candlish." " A wind-bag ; a vain pragmatical pedant ; a presumptuous coxcomb." " And Dr Cunningham." " A word-twister, a wrangler, a Church-court brawler, a man more in his place among lawyers than among divines. Just so, the three Cs are the leaders in this unnt.tural conspiracy against the Church's peace. There is not another man of any note can be named as belonging to the party." " Sir David Brewster is warmly in favour of our principles." " Sir David Brewster ! A crotchety egotist — a man never pleased with anything or anybody. If these be your men, I think as little of them as your principles." " They enjoy the general respect of their countrymen, and may be compared advantageously with any of the leaders, on the opposite side." " I deny it, sir ; I deny it, sir. Och! hoch ! hoch ! I won't argue with you, sir. Och ! hoch ! hoch ! You are engaged in a bad cause, and have not the sense to see it or the honesty to own it. But I hope — och ! hoch ! hoch ! hoch !— I hope the Church will prove too strong for her enemies, and flourish when they are all forgotten. I am an old man now, and it is little 1 can do for her, but I will at least make sure that no enemy of her's shall ever obtain a footing in my family. That is what I can do, sir, and what I will do. I tell you plainly, sir — och ! hoch ! hoch ! — I tell you plainly I would rather see Agnes go to her grave than see her the wife of anybody holding the principles you hold."

" God forgive you, Mr Montgomery, for those rash words."

" Well, well, that's a very good wish, for we all need forgiveness ; but don't think to shake my purpose, for my mind is made up. I have been very civil to you hitherto — very civil and forbearing — but, remember, I am not to be trifled with. I think, in the present state of the Church and of your own prospects, you might have something else in your head than silly lovemaking ; at any rate, there are plenty of young women in the world besides my daughter, and you need be at no loss to find another, if you must have a sweetheart. So, if you please, don't trouble yourself any mere j.bout Agnes." These words were spoken with a cutting calmness that indicated a settled purpose, and they wounded the student's high-toned feelings more than any of the old man's more angry expressions. He stood for a moment , struggling to muster composure to return a suitable reply, but the effort was fruitless. He was merely able to stammer out a few incoherent words in a husky tone and with a tremulous articulation , and taking a respectful but almost silent leave of Mr Montgomery, he left the house. When fairly abroad in the dark, deserted streets, his heart swelling with indignant feelings and wrung with anguish, he mentally pronounced himself the most unfortunate and miserable of all mankind.

(7_» be continued.)