Malcolm Part 62

"But you have not yourself heard any of their sermons, or what do they call them?"

"No, my lord," said Mr Cairns, holding up his white hands in repudiation of the idea; "it would scarcely accord with my position to act the spy."

"So, to keep yourself immaculate, you take all against them for granted! I have no such scruples, however. I will go and see, or rather hear, what they are about: after that I shall be in a position to judge."

"Your lords.h.i.+p's presence will put them on their guard."

"If the mere sight of me is a check," returned the marquis, "extreme measures will hardly be necessary."

He spoke definitively, and made a slight movement, which his visitor accepted as his dismissal. He laughed aloud when the door closed, for the spirit of what the Germans call Schadenfreude was never far from his elbow, and he rejoiced in the parson's discomfiture.

It was in virtue of his simplicity, precluding discomfiture, that Malcolm could hold his own with him so well. For him he now sent.

"Well, MacPhail," he said kindly, as the youth entered, "how is that foot of yours getting on?"

"Brawly, my lord; there's naething muckle the maitter wi' hit or me aither, noo 'at we're up. But I was jist nearhan' deid o' ower muckle bed."

"Had n't you better come down out of that c.o.c.kloft?" said the marquis, dropping his eyes.

"Na, my lord; I dinna care aboot pairtin' wi' my neebour yet."

"What neighbour?"

"Ow, the auld warlock, or whatever it may be 'at hauds a reemish (romage) there."

"What! is he troublesome next?

"Ow, na! I'm no thinkin' 't; but 'deed I dinna ken, my lord!" said Malcolm.

"What do you mean, then?"

"Gien yer lords.h.i.+p wad aloo me to force yon door, I wad be better able to tell ye."

"Then the old man is not quiet?"

"There's something no quaiet."

"Nonsense! It's all your imagination--depend on it."

"I dinna think it."

"What do you think, then? You're not afraid of ghosts, surely?"

"No muckle. I hae naething mair upo' my conscience nor I can bide i' the deidest o' the nicht."

"Then you think ghosts come of a bad conscience? A kind of moral delirium tremens--eh?"

"I dinna ken, my lord; but that's the only kin' o' ghaist I wad be fleyed at--at least 'at I wad rin frae. I wad a heap raither hae a ghaist i' my hoose nor ane far'er benn. An ill man, or wuman, like Mistress Catanach, for enstance, 'at's a'boady, 'cep'

what o' her 's deevil,"

"Nonsense!" said the marquis, angrily; but Malcolm went on:

"--maun be jist fu' o' ghaists! An' for onything I ken, that 'll be what maks ghaists o' themsel's efter they 're deid, settin'

them waukin', as they ca' 't. It's full waur nor bein' possessed wi' deevils, an' maun be a hantle mair ooncoamfortable.--But I wad hae yon door opent, my lord."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the marquis once more, and shrugged his shoulders. "You must leave that room. If I hear anything more about noises, or that sort of rubbish, I shall insist upon it.--I sent for you now, however, to ask you about these clandestine meetings of the fisher folk."

"Clandestine, my lord? There's no clam aboot them, but the clams upo' the rocks."

The marquis was not etymologist enough to understand Malcolm's poor pun, and doubtless thought it worse than it was.

"I don't want any fooling," he said. "Of course you know these people?"

"Ilka man, wuman, an' bairn o' them," answered Malcolm.

"And what sort are they?"

"Siclike as ye micht expec'."

"That's not a very luminous answer."

"Weel, they're nae waur nor ither fowk, to begin wi'; an' gien this hauds, they'll be better nor mony."

"What sort are their leaders?"

"Guid, respectable fowk, my lord."

"Then there's not much harm in them?"

"There's nane but what they wad fain be rid o'. I canna say as muckle for a' 'at hings on to them. There's o' them, nae doobt, wha wad fain win to h'aven ohn left their sins ahin' them; but they get nae encouragement frae Maister MacLeod. Blue Peter, 'at gangs oot wi' 's i' yer lords.h.i.+p's boat--he's ane o' their best men-- though he never gangs ayont prayin', I'm tauld."

"Which is far enough, surely," said his lords.h.i.+p, who, belonging to the Episcopal church, had a different idea concerning the relative dignities of preaching and praying.

"Ay, for a body's sel', surely; but maybe no aye eneuch for ither fowk," answered Malcolm, always ready after his clumsy fas.h.i.+on.

"Have you been to any of these meetings?"

"I was at the first twa, my lord."

"Why not more?"

"I didna care muckle aboot them, an' I hae aye plenty to du. Besides, I can get mair oot o' Maister Graham wi' twa words o' a question nor the haill crew o' them could tell me atween this an' eternity."

"Well, I am going to trust you," said the marquis slowly, with an air of question rather than of statement.

"Ye may du that, my lord."

"You mean I may with safety?"