Alec Forbes of Howglen Part 85

"Some la.s.ses' _no_ 's better not ither la.s.ses' _ay_, father."

"Deed mnybe, laddie," said George; adding to himself, "That maun hae been Annie Anderson?-nae ither."

He was particularly attentive and yielding to Willie during his short visit, and Willie understood it.

Had Annie been compelled, by any evil chance, to return to the garret over Robert Bruce's shop, she would not indeed have found the holes in the floor and the roof reopened; but she would have found that the carpet and the curtains were gone.

The report went through Glamerton that she and Willie Macwha were _coortin'_.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIII.

Thomas Crann's conversation with Mr Cupples deepened both his annoyance and his grief at the membership of Robert Bruce. What was the use of a church if such men as he got into it, and, having got in, could not be got out? Had he been guilty of any open _fault_, such as getting drunk, for one solitary and accidental instance of which they had excluded one of their best and purest-minded men, they could have got rid of him with comparative ease; but who so free of fault as Bruce? True, he was guilty of the crime of over-reaching whenever he had a chance, and of cheating when there was no risk of being found out?-at least so everybody believed?-but he had no faults. The duty, therefore, that lay upon every member, next to the cleanness of his own garments-?that of keeping the church pure and unspotted?-was hard to fulfil, and no one was ready to undertake it but Thomas Crann. For what a spot was here!

And Thomas knew his Lord's will.

Neither was the duty so unpleasant to Thomas's oppositive nature, as it would have been to a man of easier temperament.

"Jeames Johnstone," he said, "the kirk maks nae progress. It's no as i'

the time o' the apostles whan the saved war added till't daily."

"Weel, ye see," returned James, "that wasna _oor_ kirk exacly; and it wasna Mr Turnbull that was the heid o' 't."

"It's a' the same. The prenciple's the same. An' Mr Turnbull preaches the same gospel Peter and Paul praiched, and wi' unction too. And yet here's the congregation dwin'lin' awa', and the church itsel' like naething but bees efter the brunstane. _I_ say there's an Ahchan i' the camp?-a Jonah i' the vessel?-a son o' Saul i' the kingdom o' Dawvid?-a Judas amo' the twal'?-a?-"

"Hoots! Thomas Crann; ye're no pittin' a' thae gran' names upo' that puir f.e.c.kless body, Rob Bruce, are ye?"

"He's nane f.e.c.kless for the deevil's wark or for his ain, which is ae thing and the same. Oot he maun gang, gin we tak' him by the scruff o'

the neck and the doup o' the breeks."

"Dinna jeist, Thomas, aboot sic a dangerous thing," said James, mildly glad of one solitary opportunity of rebuking the granite-minded mason.

"Jeist! I'm far eneuch frae jeistin'. Ye dinna ken fervour frae jokin', Jeames Johnstone."

"He micht tak' the law upo's for defamin' o' 's character; and that wad be an awfu' thing for puir fowk like us, Thamas."

"Aye the same thing ower again, Jeames! Shy at a stane, and fa' into the stank (ditch). That's the pairt o' a colt and no o' a Christian."

"But arena we tellt to be wise as serpents?"

"Ye wad tak' a heap o' tellin' upo' that heid, Jeames."

"Ow, 'deed ay! And I'm no my lane, Thamas. But we _are_ tellt that."

"The serpent turned oot an ill c.o.o.ncellor upon ae occasion ower well to be remembert by Adam's race."

"The words stan' as I say," persisted James.

"Ye're no to mak' the serpent yer c.o.o.ncellor, man. But ance ye ken yer duty, ye may weel tak example by him hoo to carry 't oot. Did ye ever see an edder lyin' ower a stane as gin he was naething but a stick himsel', bidin' 's time? That's me, i' the Scriptur' sense. I'm only bidin' till I see hoo. A body maunna do ill that gude may come, though wow! it's a sair temptation whiles; neither maun a body neglec to do richt for fear that ill may follow."

"Ay, true that. But ye needna burn the hoose to rid the rottans. I doot ye'll get's a' into ower het water; and a body needna tak' the skin aff for the sake o' cleanliness. Jist tak ye tent (care, attention), Thamas, what ye're aboot."

Having thus persisted in opposing Thomas to a degree he had never dared before, James took his departure, pursued by the words:

"Tak ye care, Jeames, that in savin' the richt han' ye dinna send the haill body to h.e.l.l. It was aye yer danger. I never got bauld c.o.o.nsel frae ye yet."

"There's mair vertues i' the Bible nor courage, Thamas," retorted James, holding the outer door open to throw the sentence in, and shutting it instantly to escape with the last word.

Thomas, abandoned to his own resources, meditated long and painfully.

But all he could arrive at was the resolution to have another talk with Mr Cupples. He might not be a Christian man, but he was an honest and trustworthy man, and might be able from his scholarship to give him some counsel. So he walked to Howglen the next day, and found him with Alec in the harvest-field. And Alec's reception of Thomas showed what a fine thing illness is for bringing people to their right minds.

Mr Cupples walked aside with Thomas, and they seated themselves on two golden sheaves at the foot of a stook.

"What ye said to me the ither day, sir," began Thomas, "has stucken fest i' my c.r.a.p, ever sin' syne. We maun hae him oot."

"Na, na; ye better lat him sit. He'll haud doon yer pride. That man's a judgment on ye for wantin' to be better nor yer neebors. Dinna try to win free o' judgment. But I'll tell ye what I wad hae ye do: Mak muckle o' 'm. Gie him tether eneuch. He'll gang frae ill to waur, ye may depen'. He'll steal or a' be dune."

"To the best o' my belief, sir, that's no to come, He's stolen already, or I'm sair mista'en."

"Ay! Can ye pruv that? That's anither maitter," returned Cupples, beginning to be interested.

"I dinna ken whether I oucht to hae mentioned it to ane that wasna a member, though; but it jist cam oot o' 'tsel' like."

"Sae the fac' that a man's a member wha's warst crime may be that he is a member, maks him sic precious gear that he maunna be meddlet wi' i'

the presence o' an honest man, wha, thank G.o.d, has neither pairt nor lot in ony sic maitter?"

"Dinna be angry, Mr Cupples. I'll tell ye a' aboot it," pleaded Thomas, than who no man could better recognize good sense.

But the Cosmo Cupples who thus attracted the confidence of Thomas Crann was a very different man from the Cosmo Cupples whom first Alec Forbes went to the garret to see at his landlady's suggestion. All the flabbiness had pa.s.sed from his face, and his eyes shone clearer than ever from a clear complexion. His mouth still gave a first impression of unsteadiness; no longer, however, from the formlessness of the loose lips, but from the continual flickering of a nascent smile that rippled their outline with long wavy motions of evanescent humour. His dress was still careless, but no longer neglected, and his hand was as steady as a rifleman's.

Nor had he found it so hard to conquer his fearful habit as even he had expected; for with every week pa.s.sed in bitter abstinence, some new well would break from the rich soil of his intellect, and irrigate with its sweet waters the parched border land between his physical and psychical being. And when he had once again betaken himself to the forsaken pen, there was little reason to fear a relapse or doubt a final victory. A playful humanity radiated from him, the result of that powerfullest of all restoratives?-_giving_ of what one has to him who has not. Indeed his reformation had begun with this. St Paul taught a thief to labour, that he might have to give: Love taught Mr Cupples to deny himself that he might rescue his friend; and presently he had found his feet touching the rock. If he had not yet learned to look "straight up to heaven," his eyes wandered not unfrequently towards that spiritual horizon upon which things earthly and things heavenly meet and embrace.

To such a Cosmo Cupples, then, Thomas told the story of Annie Anderson's five-pound note. As he spoke, Cupples was tormented as with the flitting phantom of a half-forgotten dream. All at once, light flashed upon him.

"And sae what am I to do?" asked Thomas as he finished his tale.?-"I can pruv naething; but I'm certain i' my ain min', kennin' the man's nater, that it was that note he tuik oot o' the Bible."

"I'll put the proof o' that same into yer han's, or I'm sair mista'en,"

said Mr Cupples.

"You, Mr Cupples?"

"Ay, me, Mr Crann. But maybe ye wadna tak proof frae sic a sinner against sic a sanct. Sae ye may keep yer sanct i' yer holy boasom."

"Dinna gang on that gait, Mr Cupples. Gin ye can direc' me to the purification o' our wee bit temple, I'll hearken heumbly. I only wiss ye war ane o' us."