"Their wives might go with them, Christine," said Angus.
"They would require to leave many home duties, if they did so. It would not be right--our women would not do it. Once I was at St.
Andrews, and I wanted to go to the golf links with my father, but the good woman with whom we were visiting said: "James Ruleson, go to the links if so be you want to go, but you"ll no daur to tak" this young la.s.sie there. The language on the links is just awfu". It isna fit for a decent la.s.s to hear. No, Sir, golf links would be of no use to the women, and their value is very uncertain to men.""
"Women"s presence would doubtless make men more careful in their language," said Angus.
"Weel, Angus, it would be doing what my Mither ca"s "letting the price o"er-gang the profit.""
"Miss Ruleson"s objections are good and valid, and we admit them,"
said the Colonel; "perhaps she will now give us some idea we can work out"--and when he looked at her for response, he caught his breath at the beauty and sweetness of the face before him. "What are you thinking of?" he asked, almost with an air of humility, for the visible presence of goodness and beauty could hardly have affected him more. And Christine answered softly: "I was thinking of the little children." And the three men felt ashamed, and were silent.
"I was thinking of the little children," she continued, "how they have neither schoolhouse, nor playhouse. They must go to the town, if they go to school; and there is the bad weather, and sickness, and busy mothers, and want of clothing and books, and shoes, and slates, and the like. Our boys and girls get at the Sunday School all the learning they have. The poor children. They have hard times in a fishing-village."
"You have given us the best of advice, Miss Ruleson, and we will gladly follow it," said the Colonel. "I am sure you are right. I will build a good schoolhouse in Culraine. I will begin it at once. It shall be well supplied with books and maps, and I will pay a good teacher."
"Not a man teacher, Sir. They have small patience with little children. They will use the taws on baby hands, that cannot make a "k"
or a "z" at first sight. Give them a woman teacher, who will not be afraid of the bairnies snuggling into her arms, and telling her all their little troubles."
"Domine," said the Colonel, "we have received our orders. What say you?"
"I say a school, by all means, Sir. To the children of Culraine it will be a dispensation."
"First, we must have land for it."
"I was thinking, as you spoke, of James Ruleson"s land. It lies at the foot of his hill, and would be the very best location for a schoolhouse."
"Then we will see James Ruleson."
"Father is line-fishing now. He will not be home until five o"clock,"
said Christine.
"If possible, we will see him after five. Come, Domine, let us have a look through the old kirk."
"I saw it standing open," said Christine, "and I was thinking there might be a strange wedding there today."
"No, no, Christine. It was opened for the Colonel, though there are no Ballister effigies in it. If it was an old English kirk, there would be knights and crusaders, and soldiers lying there, in stone state. We do not like images in our kirks. The second command stands clean against it. Come with us, Christine, and when we return I will give you the medicine your mother requires."
So the Domine and the Colonel led the way, and Angus and Christine followed. And when they reached the kirkyard, Angus said, "Stand here a moment, you dear, dear girl, and tell me how you could talk to my uncle in the high English of Aberdeen. It was beautiful! How did you acquire it?"
"Through long years of practice, Angus. I heard all Neil"s lessons, and I always spoke the English, when I was with Neil. He didna like me to speak Scotch, because he was feared of spoiling his English. It was our home secret, for it would have been a great offense, if I had used English in the village. You can see that."
"Yes, of course."
"They dinna mind the Domine speaking English, yet if he particularly wants them to do anything, he is maist sure to drop into the most familiar Scotch."
"Neil must have had great influence over you, Christine," and Angus said the words disagreeably. He was feeling jealous of any influences but his own controlling Christine.
"Ay, I always did what he told me to do. Step softly, Angus. The Domine is talking."
When they reached the Domine"s side, they found him turning the leaves of a very old Bible. "You see, Colonel," he said, "my father gave me The Book when I first came here. My ancestors have preached from it since A.D. 1616. It came to me through a long succession of good men.
It has been my close, personal friend ever since. The finest Bible in Scotland could not take its place. There are pages in it that have been luminous to me. I have seen the glory shining out of the black letters. There are pages in it so sensitive to me that I feel a special spiritual emanation from them. I will be glad of a new cushion for The Book, for the one on which it now lies is worn and shabby, and that ought not to be."
"Then I cannot give you a new Bible, even for the church."
"Impossible! I could not preach from a new Bible. Colonel, it is not a book, it is a friend. We have secrets together. I have promises from it, that are yet owing me. It holds our confidences for thirty years.
Sometimes I think it really speaks to me. Sometimes a glory seems to shine over the page I am reading, and my soul is so happy, that my tongue speaks aloud joyfully the shining words that have been given me."
"I would not separate you from such a Bible, Sir."
"I shall be grateful if you give me a new cushion for it. Nothing is too good for The Book."
Then they stood looking thoughtfully over the bare place. It had an old, past look. It was plain and moldy, and needed repairing in every way. The Colonel made a note of what was required in the nave of the kirk, and then glanced upward. The gallery appeared to be in still worse condition, but in front of it there was a wonderfully beautiful model of a full-rigged ship.
"Ah!" exclaimed the Colonel, "a ship instead of a clock! Is that right, Sir?"
"Quite. I put it there. It was made by a sailor lad born in Culraine, who came here to die. Long, painful, hopeless days were soothed by the fashioning of that miniature ship. All the village watched its progress, all felt an interest in the dying lad. He finished it on the eve of his death. Young and old came to bid him good-by, and to see his white, trembling hands dress the topmost spar, and fly the blue Peter. "I am just about to sail," he said, "sae I"ll up wi" the blue Peter. That means I"m ready to go. Let her carry it till I"m safely hame." I put a new Peter on the top-mast last year," said the Domine, and his eyes filled with tears, as he looked steadfastly at the emblem.
"We seem to expect a clock in the front of the gallery, Sir. Can a ship take its place?"
"Nothing, nothing, could be more appropriate. The favorite image of the church in all ages has been a ship, or a boat. The first preaching was connected with a ship, for while Noah builded the ark, he preached repentance. The holiest object of the Jewish tabernacle was the ark, made like a boat. All Christ"s known life is a.s.sociated with boats.
The favorite image of the early persecuted church was a boat beaten by the winds and waves, and our own churches preserve everywhere this world-wide idea, by calling the body of the church the nave, from navis, a ship."
"That is very interesting information, Sir," said Angus.
"You are going to Venice, Ballister; you will find many of the oldest churches in Venice built in the shape of a ship; and near Lisbon there is a chapel of marble, with pillars like masts, and its sails and cordage carved on the walls. Is not this life a voyage to the eternal sh.o.r.es, and what could typify our safety better than a ship with Christ for the captain of our salvation? You see, I will still be preaching. I make no excuse."
"None is necessary. We are glad to listen."
"Come now, Christine, and I will give you medicine for your mother.
Gentlemen, in a few minutes I will return here."
When they were alone the Domine said: "Christine, you did wisely, and your speech was correct and beautiful, but I would advise you to keep your English for special occasions."
"Sir, not even my father and mother know I can drop the Scotch. When the time comes to tell them, I----"
"Yes, yes. And the villagers? It might be an offense."
"You are right, Sir."
"You speak as if you had learned to speak at the Maraschal."
"Yes, sir. I learned it from Neil. We always talked it together, for Neil hated the dialect, and I made a bargain wi" him. I promised to talk as he taught me, if he would keep the circ.u.mstance from everyone.
He said he would, and he has stood by his promise. Sae have I, but I hae been talking English nearly five years now."
"You wonderful woman! Then this morning you gave yourself away."
"I wanted to do it--I couldna resist the want. And it was only to you, and the twa Ballisters. Nane o" you three will go blabbing. Anyway, when Neil leaves the Maraschal, he will care little how I talk. He"ll hae finer folk than Christine, to crack and claver wi"."
"He will not find finer folk easily. Now run home as quickly as you can, and prepare your father and mother for the Ballister visit. I will come with him, and ask your mother to have a cup of tea by the fire for us."