CHAPTER XXVIII.

Clutha Leader, Volume VI, Issue 335, 12 March 1880, Page 7

CHAPTER XXVIII.

But what was the minister thinking about during the Sergeants illness 1 Miss Thomasina had told him what had fakpn place during her interview with Smellie. Mr Forteous could not comprehend t^e sudden revolution in the mind of his elder But his own resolution was a* vet unshaken ; for their is a ylorv ofren experienced by some men when placed in circumstances when th^y standalone, that of recognising themselves as being tbere.bv sufferers 'for conscience' sake — as hping above all earthly itiffuencrßH. and firm, consistent, fearless, truft to their principles, when others prove weak, coward ly, or compromising. D übts and difficulties, from whatever suurce they com*), are then looked upon as so, many temptations ; and the repeated resistance of them, as so many evidences of unswerving loyalty to truth. ' I can npvpr yield one jot of my principles,' Mr Porteous said to Miss Thomasinai • The Sergpant ought to acknowledge bis sin before the Kirk Session, before I can in consistency be reconciled to him !' And yet all this sturdy profession was in no small flegree occasioned by the intrusion of better thoughts, which because they rebuked him were unpleasant. Flis irritation measured on the whole' very fairly his disbelief in the thorough soundness of his own position, "arid made him more witling than be. hud, any idea of to be reconciled to Adam. - We need not report the conversation which immediately after this took? place in the Manse between Smeliie and Mr

Porteous. The draper was calm, smiling 1 , and circumspect. """He repeated all he had' said to Miss Thomasina as to the necessity and advantage of leniency, forgiveness, and mercy; dwelling- on 'he Sergeant's sufferings and the sympathy of the parish with him,' the noble •testimony which 1 the minister had already borne to truth and 1 principle ; and urged MV Pbrteous to- gratify the Kirk Session by letting I , the case ' tak' end :' but all his pleadings were apparently in vain. The minister, was not verily ' given to change !' The ease, he said, had been settled by the Session, and the Session- conld^alone de<il with it. They were at perfect liberty to recon-ider the question as put" by Mr Smeliie, and he had perfect liberty, to bring it before the court! For himself he would act as principle and consistency dictated. And so Smeliie returned to his room above the shop, and went to bed, wishing he had left the Sorgeant and his bird to their own devices ; and Mr Porteous retired to his room above the study with very much the same feelings. In the meantime one duty was clear to Mr Porteous, and' that was to visit the Sergeant. . He was made aware of the highly contagious character of the lever, but this only'quickened his resolution to minister as fur as possible to the sick man and his family. He wasnot a man to .flinch from what he saw to be his duty. It would be unjust not to say that he was too real, too decided, too stern for that. Yielding to feelings of any kind, whether lrom fear of consequences to himself, physically, socially, or ecclesiastically, was not his habit, He did noc suspect — nor would he perhaps have beeu pleased* with the discovery had be made it— that there was in him a softer portion of his being by which he could be influenced, and which could, in favourable circumstances, dominate ovev hiro* There were in him, as inevery man* holy instincts, stronger than his- strongest logic, though they had not'H'een cultivated so carefully. He- bad" been disposed rather to attribute any m^re sense or feeling of what was right or wrong to his carnal human nature, and'to rely on some oleerly defined rule either precisely revealed in Scripture, or given in ecclesiastical law, for his guidance. But that door into his being which he had often barred as if against an enemy could nevertheless be t'orced open by the band of lovo, that love-itself might enter in and take possession^Mr • Porteous had in-any mingled thoughts as one Saturday 1 evening — in spite of his ' preparations'— he knocked at the cottage door. As- usual, it was opened by Mary. Recognising the minister, she went -to- summon Mr? Mercer from the Sergeant's roor.; ; while Mr Porteons entered,' am:!, 1 , standing with hi* back to the kitfch'tn fire, once, more gazpd at the starling,., who again returned his gaze as calmly" 1 as on the ; memorable morning when- they were first introduced. Mrs - Mercer did not, appear immediately,,as she was disrobing herself of some of her nursing-gear — b*v flannel cap and large shawl — and 1 making herself more tidy; When she emerged from the room, from which- no- sound came save an occasional heavy sigh, and mutterings from Adam in his distress, Vr hair was dishevelled? her face pale, her step tottering, and- years seemed to have been added'to her age. Her eyes had no tear to dim-- their earnest and half abstracted gaze. This visit of the minister, which' she instinctively interpreted as one- of sympathy and good-will, — -how could- it bo else 1 — at once surprised and delighted her. It was like a sudden burst of sunshine, which heiran to thaw her heart, and also to brighten the future. She sat down beside Mr Porteous, who had ad- . vanced to meet her ; and holding his proffered hand with a firm fiTasp f she gazed into his face with"' a look of silent but unutterable sorrow. He turned his face avvav. 'Oh ! c sir,'" at last she said, ' God bless you God blpss you for comin' 1 I'm- lanp.ly, lanelv. and my heart is like tae break. It's kind, kind o' ye, this;': and still holding his hand, while she covered her eyes with her apron as she rocked to and fro in the anguish of her spirit, ' the loss,' she sa-'d, 'V my wee pet was snir— ye ken what it was tae us baith, 1 (and she looked' at the emoty cot opposite,) ' when ve-used .tae sit here, and he was lyin' there—* but oh !if i^ naefhing n\ a . thiv naething tae this misfortun' !' The minister was not prepared for ?uch a welcomp, nor for such' indications of unbounded confidence on Katies part, her words revealing lipi- heart, which pou red its-elf our. He had.expected to find her much displeased with him, even pro red' »nd sullen, and had prepared in hi?- own mind a quiet pastoral rebuke for 1 her want of meekness and pubrmssiveness to Providence and to himself. ' „: 'Be comforted*, Mrs Mercer.,!' It is the Lord T He alone, not man, can aid,' said-Mr kindly, and'feelinglv returning the pressure* of her hand\ ' ' ■■■■■'■ ■'- ■■ ' ["' "Katie gently/withdrew her hand from 'his, as if sht* felt" that she- was taking too great -a -liberty-, and as-ifior a moment the ; cloud of the last few weekshad returned, and .shadowed her confidence iiT his £ood-will : to her. The ; minister," Jboo;.conl.d ,not at ..once;dismiss- ■ a feeling* of awkwardness ".'frQna . his. .^m.ind;^ though he,, sincerely^ 1 'wished to do so. He liad* setdom cbmV'iiJfb immeW diat© CQuiiQiy L and never iiPO circura-

stances like the present, with such simple and unfeigned sorrow. Love began to knock, at the door. . t 1 Oh, sir,' she said, ' ye little ken boo Adam respeckit and lo'ed ye. He never, never booed his knee at the chair ye're sittin' on wi'oot- prayin' for a blessin' on yersel' on yav wark, an' oh yer preaching. I'm sure, if ye had *only heard him the last time he cams frae the kirk ' — the minister recollected that this- was after Adam's deposition by the Session — ' hoo he wrastled for "the- grace o' God tae be wi' ye, it wad I hae dune yer heart quid, and greatly" encouraged ye. Forgie me, forgie me for sayin' this ; but eh ! he was; and is, a precious .man tae me; tho' he'll no' be lang wi' us noo, I fear!'' and Katie without weeping*, again rocked to and fro. '•"He is a good man,' he replied ; 'yes, a-vwry good man is Adam ; and I pray God his life may be spared.' f 0 thank ye, thank ye !' said Katie. /Ay, pray God his life may be spared — and mine too, for I'il no' survive him ; I canna dot! nae mair could wee Mary !' Mary was all the while listening 1 afr the door, which was not quite closed, and as she heard those words and the low cry from her ' mother ' beseechingthe minister to pray, she ran in, and falling down before him, with muffled sobs bid her face in the folds of his great-coat, and said, * Oh, minister, dinna lei fairher dee! dinna let him dee !' And she clasped and clapped theknees of him who she thought had mysterious power with God. The minister .lifted up the agonised' child, patted her fondly on the head,, and then gazed on her thin but sweet face. She was pale from her self-deny-ing labours in the sick room. 'Ye maun excuse tha bairn.' said Katie, ' for she hasha been oot o' the hoose except for an errand sin' Adam grow ill I canna get her tae sleep or eat as she used to do — she's sac fond o' the guidman. I'm. awfu' behadden till her. Come here, my wee wifie.' And'Katie pressed the child's head and tearful face to her bosom, where Mary's sobs were smothered in a large brown shawl. ' She's no' strong, but extraordinar' speeri'y,' continued Katie in a* low voice and apologetically to Mr Porteous j ' and ye maun jL«t excuse us baith.' ' I think,' said the minister, in a tremulous voice, ' it would be good for us all to engage in prayer.' They did so. Just as they rose from their knees,, the slight noise which the movement ■occasioned, for hitherto the conversation had been conducted in whispers — causpd the starling to leap up on hu perch. Then with clear accents, that rung over the silent house, he said, * I'm Charlie's bairn !' Katie looked up to the cage, and for the first time in her life felt something akin to downright anger at the bird. His words seemed to her to be a most unseasonable interruption — a text for a dispute — a reminiscence of what she did not wish then to have recalled. 1 Whisht, ye impudent cratur !' she exclaimed ; adding as if to correct; his rudeness, 've'll disturb yer maister.' The bird looked down at her with his head askance, and . scratched it as if puzzled and asking ' What's wrong V i Oh,' said Katie, turning to the minister as if caught in some delinquency, ' it's no' my faut, sir ; ye muun forgie the bird j the silly thing dosena ken better.' 'Never mind, never mind,' said Mr Porteous, kindly, ' it's but a trifle, and ' not worthy of our notice at such a aor lemn -moment ; it must not distract our minds from higher things.' ' I'm muckle obleeged to ye, sir/ -said Kntie, rising and, making' ;a. curtsey. Feeling, however, that a crisis had come from which she could -not escape if she would, she'- bid- Mary '.gang ben and watch, and shut the door.' When Mary had obeyed, she turned to Mr Porteous and > said, ' Ye maun excuse me, «ir, but I canna thole ye to be angry aboot the bird. It's been a sore affliction, I do • assure you,sir.' , : •;■ ' Prny say nothing more of that business, I implore you, Mrs Mercer, just now,' said Mr %Porteons; looking uneasy, but pufttrg bis hand kindly on her arm ; , there is no'nreedforit.' This did not. deter Katie from uttering what was now oppressing her heart more than ever, but rather encouraged he.r to go on. ' Ye. miiun let me speak, or; I'll. burst,' p-be snid ' <>h. sir, it. has indeed been un awfu' grief this — just awfu' tae u^ baith. Out dinna, dinna think Adamwns to blame as muckle as me. I'm in fauf. no' him. Jt wasna frae want o' respec' tae you, sir; na; na, that oouldna be; but a' frae love tae our bairn,. that was sac uncommon ta'en up wi' yersel'.' . {\' : ; 'I remember the lovely boy well,' said Mr Porteous, not wishing to open up the question of the Sergeant's; conduct, ' - ■■' " ' ■■%;- -.' .••-'•,•;,::-»-.-■ \ .':.. * Naebody that ever seed him,' continued Katie,' * 4 sbut),w,advmind hirri— his 4 bonnie c'en .likei: bla.bs.p'' dew, and Kis-" bit* mooth that was,. sae. .sweets tae kiss> ! - An' ye mind the nicht he deed, hob he . clapped. yer >head .when ye w^ere^prayjri' there at his bedside,, and.^.Hpo he- saidCbis ain^r 1 . prayer;' and hoo ,„ ' ■ Here. tjKatie rose in an excited manner, and opened a press, and taking; tjrom-it* jeyersLar^ and' said-—* See. there's f fii&*fstto6»i and

there's his froclc • and thisf-is'the cleaa** cap^and"' frills' that^was^onihii; bonnier head* when ■HJB^lay."a7c i ofp'';rfiil'd'tharw'a*"'-' the whistle^ he.:had f when he had wheats he signed tae the bird • tae come for ay< bit o' his piece' jVand,; it was the lasfc J thing did, when'-'h'e coiildna eat, to insist on? me giein' .;;. a .wee- bit tae^his^ bairn, as he ca'ed it, ye- ken ;•/ and.he" grat when he : was sac waik that hecouldna whistle till'ti : O ray; bairn, my ' bohriie bairn ! K she went on,, in lpw< accents of profound "sorrow, .as.jshe. returned to the press these saiall memo- • rials: of a too cherished grief. . ... * * You must- not mournas those f w ; ho » haro no hope» my friend,' "said- the « minister ; . • your dear child is with '- Jdsus.' 1 * Thank ye, sir, for that,' said Katie ;.: who resolved,' however^ to press towards - the- point she -had in *view. 'An' it '. was me hindered Adam frae killin' my ' bairns- pet, she continued, resuming heraeat by tbe- minister. ' He said, he - wad throttle it, or cast it into the' fire.' " The minister shook bis hyad, remarking, ' Tut, tut ! "that would never have - done ! " No-human being wished that. 9 " what I said,' continued 5 Katie ; 'an' whan he rowed up the ~ sleeves o' his fark, and took hand o' the • bit' thingtae thraw its. neck, I wadna ' let him, but daured him to do, it, that did P; and I kent ye wad hae dune the ■ same, for the'sake o' weevCharlie, that •"• was sac fond o' you. Oh, forgie me, . forgie him, if I was wrang t A mither's feelings are no easy hauden doon ! Was this account the truth, the - vvbole truth,, and notbing.but the truth ?' % Perhaps not. B^it th«n, good brother • or sister, if , 'you are disposed to blame - Katie, we defend not even this weary ' mourner from thee. Take the first* stone and cast if at her! Yet we think, as you- do so, we see the'- Perfect .Onewriting on the gi*ound ; and if'-H.e iswriting, her condemnation, 'tis injthe * dust of'earth, and- the kindly rain orwinds of heaven will soon obliterate the • rocord. * JSo more about* this painful affair, I ■'*' be«eech of you,' said the minister, tak--ing. a very large and long pinch ofr" snuff;., 'let u» rather try and. comfort - Adam-.. This is our- present duty.' - 1 God Himsel' bless ye !' said Katie, . kissing- the back of his 1 hand ;.' but yemannna gang near him; dinna risk •« yer valuable life ; : the fivvei' is a w fur' smittal. Dr Scott wull let* naebody: in.' / ; ■;; \ \ 1 And have you no nurse ? ' inquired- ■' Mr Pbrteous, not thinking of himself, r. Thi* question recalled to her mind what seemed another mysterious stumb — ling block. She knewnot what'to say ■> in reply. J6ck Hall was at •the 1 - mo- •- ment seated like a statue beside* the •• bed, and what would the-, \ minister «• think when- he saw this repFesentHtive 1--of parish wickedness in' an- .elder's- •" house?'.. ' ; She had no time for lengthened ex- - planations ;..all she s:rid, therefore, was, .., 1 The only nurse Dr Scotfc-' and me" could get was nae doot a.pni.r borne,.yet awfu'strang and fit tae haud Adam •>. doon, whan aside himsel' ; and he ! had^ nae fear o* his am life — and was a* grate- - fu' cratur — and had ta'en a great.notion " o' Adam, and is kin' 6' reformed — that- — that I.thocht — weel, I maun jist 'confess <- the nurse i 3 Jock Hall !' „; , -y * Jock Hall i'exclaimed the minister,, lifting his eyebrows witlvan expression. * ofasfonishmeht;. *is it. possible 1 :? M But I leave to yoirand* the Doctor the selection of a nurse. It is a secular " matter, with which officially I have • nothing to do.. My business is with" spiritual things ; let me therefore, see • the Sergeant. I have; no fear.- I'm. in-^ God's hands; AIM have to do is my-' duty. That is my principle/ 1 Jisfc; let me ben -a minute fiirstj' .asked'^ Katie. .; ■ She went accordingly j t6' tharoom and % whispered to Jock, * Gang to the laf'fc ;.; tlie minister-is corning ben — Aff !' ' Mind what ye're baith abpot !' said-' Jock, pointing to his patient! * Becanny wi'h'im-^-be canny-— nae preachin' " e'enooj mind, or flytin', .or ye'll'rue't^Losh, I'll noatan'tl' . 1