CHAPTER VII.
JOSEPH.
If night follows brighter day in more sunny climes, the colder skiesof Scotland enjoy at least the compensation of a lengthened gloaming.The crimson glory of sunset ebbs more slowly away, and a palerdaylight lingers on and on, fading by imperceptible degrees, as theblue transparent vapours of the still and warm earth rise to meet thegolden blue of heaven; it is hours before the two unite to wrap theworld in the purple gloom of night.
On a slope of the upland moor which divides Glen Effick from the coastwas the spot where the Free Church congregation of Kilrundle held itsSunday meetings in the open air. 'The Muir Foot' sloped evenly downinto the glen, not far outside the village, and close to the highroad, from which, nevertheless, it was entirely screened by a thicketof birch and hazel. On the inner edge of this was a small platform forthe preacher, roofed and enclosed with canvas, and hence denominatedthe tent. When the services were in Gaelic and the preacher indulgedin much action, the arrangement might have been suggested of Punch andJudy to a frivolous stranger, but the people were too full of solemnand earnest enthusiasm to see anything amiss. A stray colt on thehillside projected against the sky, would bring to the minds of some avision of Claverhouse and his troopers in the olden time, for that wasa theme often presented to their thoughts in tract and sermon. Theyhad almost persuaded themselves the covenanting scenes were to beplayed over again in their own times, and were steadfastly resolved to'quit themselves like men' in the day of trouble.
Before the tent there was a plat of turf, through the middle of whicha burn babbled over the stones; beyond, the moor swept gently upwards,and here the worshippers were wont to sit, tier above tier, like theaudience in a theatre, to listen to the preaching of the word. In thatgloaming the place was not altogether deserted, the tap of a hammerdriving nails reverberated through the stillness. Joseph Smiley thebeadle and a joiner by trade, was at work making preparation for theservices of the morrow. He had driven a few posts into the sward, andon these was nailing planks to form a rough bench or two, for theeldership and the _elite_ of the congregation. There were also two orthree wooden chairs, but these he hid away in the tent to keep themsafe till the Sangster family should appear, and he had an opportunityto present them.
'It's nane o' yer orra bodies 'at's to hecht their tail on thaechairs, an' me feshin' them a' the gate fra' hame, I'se warrant! I'llmak an errand up til Auchlippie come Monday, an' gin I hae na twa halfcrowns in my pouch, or a pair o' the maister's breeks in my oxter atthe hamecomin', my name's no Joseph Smiley!' With these comfortablereflections he put on his coat, gathered up his tools, and started forhome in the gathering darkness.
'Joseph Smiley!'
The words came out of the darkness under a tree, as he passed throughthe thicket and gained the road. Joseph recognized the voice, thoughhe could not see the speaker.
'The deil flee awa wi' her auld banes! If that's no Tibbie Tirpie!What brings the auld witch here wi' her blathers and fleetchin'! I haelippened til her haudin' her tongue afore folk, but here she's grippetme my lane. But we maun speak the carlin fair'--so much under hisbreath, then aloud--
'Hoo's a' wi' ye, Mistress Tirpie? It's lang sin we hae forgatheredthe gither. But I'm aye speerin' after ye; I ken ye're weel!'
It's no my bodily health 'at's ailin', Joseph Smiley, but my heart'ssair in me, an' ye ken what for.'
'I'm sure, Luckie, I kenna what ye're drivin' at; gin gude will o'mine wad gar ye thrive, ye'se thrive wi' the lave! an' as for sareheart I kenna what there can be to fash ye. But there's balm inGilead, Mistress Tirpie, take ye yer burden there. I'm but a puirdoor-keeper in the house of the Lord,--tho' it's better that nordwellin' in tents o' sin,--juist a puir silly earthen vessel, but I'setestifee sae far.
'Joseph Smiley! Ye twa-faced heepocrit. Hoo daar ye tak the word o'God atween yer leein' lips like that? Are ye no feared the grund willopen an' swally ye up?'
Fient a fear! Luckie, gin the earth swallied a' body 'at spakunadveesedly wi' their lips, it wad hae a sair wamefu'! There's nomony wad be left stan'in' ower grund. An' I'm misdoubtin' but ye'd nobe to the fore yersel', Tibbie. But lay by yer flitin'. Hoo's a' wi'young Tib?'
'An' it sets ye weel, Joseph Smiley, to be speerin' after my puirdautie, after a' 'at's come an' gane. An' ye hae na come naar her thisthree month come Saubith, for a' the wite ye hae wrocht her.'
'What's the wite, mither? Is she no weel?'
'No weel!--An' ye'll be for no letting on ye ken ocht about it!'
'What wad a ken, Mistress Tirpie? She was aye a fine bit lassie,blythe and bonny as ye'd see in a' the country side, but sin' she gaedawa, naebody kenned whaur, I hae na heard tell o' her ava.'
'Lay by! Joseph Smiley; I ken a' 'at's come an' gane atween ye; she'stelled me a'.'
'The saft silly tawpie!' this aside, and under his breath.
'I ken a' about yer guilefu' tongue, an' a' yer pawkie gates. An'think ye I'll haud my whisht, an' see her bear the wite her lane? Yeken ye swore to marry her.'
'Speak laich, mither; ye dinna ken wha's hearkenin'. They hae langlugs 'at travel after dark.'
'Ye ken it's true! Joseph Smiley. Ye took yer Bible aith, an' ye beutto keep it. Wha's fraickin' tongue but yours has played a' themischief? She gaed awa' at yer biddin', an' the bairn's left there,an' naebody kens wha's acht it. But the matter canna bide sae, an'ye'se beut to mak' a decent woman o' her noo. An' a gude wife she'llmak ye, an' a faithfu' whan a's done.'
'Speak laich, woman! An' bide a wee. (The deil's in the wife! the wayher tongue rins). Oh Mistress Tirpie! I'm bund till own it was ill mypairt to do as I did; but the best o' us wull gang astray whiles. KingDawvit himself, tho' I wadna be sae presumptious as even mysel' wi'the like o' him, gaed ance wrang amang the lasses, but he made it a'richt belive; an' sae aiblins wull I. But it taks time--we maun bide awee.'
'An' what's to come o' Tibbie or than?'
'The deil may flee awa' wi' her for me! An' I wuss he wad,' mutteredJoseph below his breath; but aloud his words were more prudent. 'Shemaun just juke an' let the jaw gae by, like the lave. An' after a',there's naethin' kenned till her discredit, we tuk braw gude care o'that; and there's a gude tent taen o' the bairn as ye cud tak'yersel', an' ye're its grannie. Bide a wee; it'll a' come richt. Yesee, Mistress Tirpie, I'm an office-bearer e'y kirk, an' there maun benae clashes or clavers about me, or I'd lose my place. Gin thaelang-tongued gouks cud find but a haunel, it's nae Joseph Smiley wasbe lang the bederal o' Kilrundle, an' then whaur wad the siller comefrae for me to keep a wife?'
'Hech! Joseph Smiley, but ye're a pawkie loon an' a slick-tongued!Ye'd fraik the tail aff auld Hornie himsel'. But I'm misdoubtin' ye.Ye'll be slippin' through our fingers yet, like an eel. But I'd belaith to lose ye yer place; an' gin ye'll swear again afore me an'cripple Cormack, an' own her for yer wife, I'se raise nae din. Leastsaid suinest mendet. But Tibbie's real lonesome, an' aye at thegreetin'. Ye maun come an' see her twa fore nichts ilka week, an' keepup her heart.'
'I'se tak my aith to yersel, Tibbie, wi' muckle pleasure, an' I'sesome an' see Tib, but I'll say naething afore auld Cormack. I winderthat a sensible woman like you wad fash wi' sic a doited auld gomeral,'at can nae mair haud his tongue than he can flee. But I maun besteerin', or it's cauld parritch I'll sup this nicht. Sae here'swussin' ye weel, an' mind me kindly to Tibbie--bonny lass!--gudenicht.'
'Fushionless senseless gowk!' he muttered to himself as he turnedhomewards. 'An' she's gaun to wive her on me is she? We'll see,Luckie! Time wull tell! But it winna be by garrin' me own up aforeauld Cormack!'
Tibbie likewise wended home. As she recalled her interview, she couldnot but admit to herself that excepting fair words she had takenlittle. At the same time she had broken ground, and her adversary hadbetrayed no small dread of a scandal. She, had, therefore she thoughtsome slight hold on that slippery person, and took comfort inrecollecting that a salmon ere now has been angled for and landed witha single horse
hair. 'But we maun ca' canny,' she muttered to herself.'He's a kittle chield to drive.' She began now to regret she had notused her little pull towards securing some present advantage. It issweet to spoil the Egyptians. Besides, any tribute secured would be anadmission of her power, and every such tribute and admission would addstrength to the chain by which she hoped eventually to secure hervictim. Wherefore, it was resolved and decided in Tibbie's council ofone, that no time should be lost, but the very earliest opportunitytaken to commence operations.