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Alec Forbes of Howglen, a novel by George MacDonald |
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Chapter 85 |
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_ CHAPTER LXXXV So entire was Thomas Crann's notion of discipline, that it could not be satisfied with the mere riddance of Robert Bruce. Jealous, therefore, of encroachment on the part of minister or deacons, and opposed by his friend James Johnstone, he communicated his design to no one; for he knew that the higher powers, anxious to avoid scandal wherever possible, would, instead of putting the hypocrite to shame as he deserved, merely send him a civil letter, requesting him to withdraw from their communion. After watching for a fit opportunity, he resolved at length to make his accusation against Robert Bruce in person at an approaching church-meeting, at which, in consequence of the expected discussion of the question of the proper frequency of the administration of the sacrament, a full attendance of members might be expected. They met in the chapel, which was partially lighted for the occasion. The night was brilliant with frosty stars, as Thomas walked to the rendezvous. He felt the vigour of the season in his yet unsubdued limbs, but as he watched his breath curling in the frosty air, and then vanishing in the night, he thought how the world itself would pass away before the face of Him that sat on the great white throne; and how the missionars of Glamerton would have nothing to say for themselves on that day, if they did not purify themselves on this. From the faint light of the stars he passed into the dull illumination of the tallow candles, and took his place in silence behind their snuffer, who, though half-witted, had yet shown intelligence and piety enough for admission into the community. The church slowly gathered, and at length Mr Turnbull appeared, supported by his deacons. After the usual preliminary devotions, in which Robert Bruce "engaged," the business of the meeting was solemnly introduced. The only part which Thomas Crann took in it was to expostulate with the candle-snuffer, who being violently opposed to the wishes of the minister, and not daring to speak, kept grumbling in no inaudible voice at everything that came from that side of the house. "Hoot, Richard! it's Scriptur', ye ken," said Thomas, soothingly. "Scriptur' or no Scriptur', we're nae for't," growled Richard aloud, and rising, gave vent to his excited feelings by snuffing out and relighting every candle in its turn. At length the further discussion of the question was postponed to the next meeting, and the minister was preparing to give out a hymn, when Thomas Crann's voice arose in the dusky space. Mr Turnbull stopped to listen, and there fell an expectant silence; for the stone-mason was both reverenced and feared. It was too dark to see more than the dim bulk of his figure, but he spoke with slow emphasis, and every word was heard. "Brethren and office-beirers o' the church, it's upo' discipline that I want to speak. Discipline is ane o' the main objecs for which a church is gathered by the speerit o' God. And we maun work discipleen amo' oorsels, or else the rod o' the Almichty'll come doon upon a' oor backs. I winna haud ye frae particulars ony langer.�-Upon a certain Sawbath nicht i' the last year, I gaed into Robert Bruce's hoose, to hae worship wi' 'm.�-I'm gaein straucht and fair to the pint at ance. Whan he opened the buik, I saw him slip something oot atween the leaves o' 't, and crunkle 't up in 's han', luikin his greediest. Syne he read the twenty-third and fourt psalms. I cudna help watchin' him, and whan we gaed down upo' oor k-nees, I luikit roon efter him, and saw him pit something intil's breek-pooch. Weel, it stack to me. Efterhin (afterwards) I fand oot frae the lassie Annie Anderson, that the buik was hers, that auld Mr Cooie had gien't till her upo' 's deith-bed, and had tell't her forbye that he had pitten a five poun' note atween the leaves o' 't, to be her ain in remembrance o' him, like. What say ye to that, Robert Bruce?" "It's a' a lee," cried Robert, out of the dark back-ground under the gallery, where he always placed himself at such meetings, "gotten up atween yersel' and that ungratefu' cousin o' mine, Jeames Anderson's lass, wha I hae keepit like ane o' my ain." Bruce had been sitting trembling; but when Thomas put the question, believing that he had heard all that Thomas had to say, and that there was no proof against him, he resolved at once to meet the accusation with a stout denial. Whereupon Thomas resumed: "Ye hear him deny't. Weel, I hae seen the said Bible mysel'; and there's this inscription upo' ane o' the blank leaves o' 't: 'Over the twenty-third psalm o' David,'�-I tellt ye that he read that psalm that night�-'Over the twenty-third psalm o' David, I hae laid a five poun' note for my dear Annie Anderson, efter my deith!' Syne followed the nummer o' the note, which I can shaw them that wants to see. Noo I hae the banker's word for statin' that upo' the very Monday mornin' efter that Sunday, Bruce paid into the bank a five poun' note o' that verra indentical nummer. What say ye to that, Robert Bruce?" A silence followed. Thomas himself broke it with the words: "That money he oucht to hae supposed was Mr Cooie's, and returned it till's dochters. But he pays't intil's ain accoont. Ca' ye na that a breach o' the eicht commandment, Robert Bruce?" But now Robert Bruce rose. And he spoke with solemnity and pathos. "It's a sair thing, sirs, that amo' Christians, wha ca' themsel's a chosen priesthood and a peculiar people, a jined member o' the same church should meet wi' sic ill-guideship as I hae met wi' at the han's o' Mr Crann. To say naething o' his no bein' ashamed to confess bein' sic a heepocreet i' the sicht o' God as to luik aboot him upon his knees, lyin' in wait for a man to do him hurt whan he pretendit to be worshippin' wi' him afore the Lord his Maker, to say naething o' that which I wadna hae expeckit o' him, he gangs aboot for auchteen months contrivin' to bring that man to disgrace because he daurna mak' sic a strong profession as he mak's himsel'. But the warst o' 't a' is, that he beguiles a young thochtless bairn, wha has been the cause o' muckle discomfort in oor hoose, to jine him i' the plot. It's true eneuch that I took the bank-note frae the Bible, whilk was a verra unshuitable place to put the unrichteous mammon intil, and min's me upo' the money-changers i' the temple; and it's true that I paid it into the bank the neist day�-" "What garred ye deny't, than?" interrupted Thomas. "Bide a wee, Mr Crann, and caw canny. Ye hae been hearkened till wi'oot interruption, and I maun hae fair play here whatever I get frae yersel'. I didna deny the fac. Wha could deny a fac? But I denied a' the haill affair, i' the licht o' wickedness and thievin' that Mr Crann was castin' upo' 't. _I_ saw that inscription and read it wi' my ain een the verra day the lassie brocht the beuk, and kenned as weel's Mr Crann that the siller wasna to be taen hame again. But I said to mysel': "It'll turn the lassie's heid, and she'll jist fling't awa' in murlocks (crumbs) upo' sweeties, and plunky, and sic like,' for she was aye greedy, 'sae I'll jist pit it into the bank wi' my ain, and accoont for't efterhin wi' the lave o' her bit siller whan I gie that up intil her ain han's. Noo, Mr Crann!" He sat down, and Mr Turnbull rose. "My Christian brethren," he said, "it seems to me that this is not the proper place to discuss such a question. It seems to me likewise ill-judged of Mr Crann to make such an accusation in public against Mr Bruce, who, I must say, has met it with a self-restraint and a self-possession most creditable to him, and has answered it in a very satisfactory manner. The hundredth psalm." "Hooly and fairly, sir!" exclaimed Thomas, forgetting his manners in his eagerness. "I haena dune yet. And whaur wad be the place to discuss sic a queston but afore a' meetin o' the church? Ca' ye that the public, sir? Wasna the church institute for the sake o' discipleen? Sic things are no to be ironed oot in a hole an' a corner, atween you and the deycons, sir. They belang to the haill body. We're a' wranged thegither, and the Holy Ghost, whase temple we sud be, is wranged forby. You at least micht ken, sir, that he's withdrawn his presence frae oor mids', and we are but a candle under a bushel, and not a city set upon a hill. We beir no witness. And the cause o' his displeesur' is the accursed thing which the Ahchan in oor camp has hidden i' the Coonty Bank, forby mony ither causes that come hame to us a'. And the warl' jist scoffs at oor profession o' religion, whan it sees sic a man as that in oor mids'." "All this is nothing to the point, Mr Crann," said Mr Turnbull in displeasure. "It's to the verra hert o' the pint," returned Thomas, equally displeased. "Gin Robert Bruce saw the inscription the day the lassie broucht hame the buik, will he tell me hoo it was that he cam' to lea' the note i' the buik till that Sawbath nicht?" "I luikit for 't, but I cudna fin' 't, and thocht she had ta'en 't oot upo' the road hame." "Cudna ye fin' the twenty-third psalm?�-But jist ae thing mair, Mr Turnbull, and syne I'll haud my tongue," resumed Thomas.�-"Jeames Johnstone, will ye rin ower to my hoose, and fess the Bible? It's lyin' upo' the drawers. Ye canna mistak' it.�-Jist hae patience till he comes back, sir, and we'll see hoo Mr Bruce'll read the inscription. I wad hae made nothing o' 't, gin it hadna been for a frien' o' mine. But Mr Bruce is a scholar, an' 'll read the Laitin till 's." By this time James Johnstone was across the street. "There's some foul play in this," cried Bruce, out of the darkness. "My enemy maun sen' for an ootlandish speech and a heathen tongue to insnare ane o' the brethren!" Profound silence followed. All sat expectant. The snuff of the candles grew longer and longer. Even the energetic Richard, who had opposed the Scripture single-handed, forgot his duty in the absorbing interest of the moment. Every ear was listening for the footsteps of the returning weaver, bringing the Bible of the parish-clergyman into the half-unhallowed precincts of a conventicle. At a slight motion of one of the doors, an audible start of expectation broke like an electric spark from the still people. But nothing came of it. They had to wait full five minutes yet before the messenger returned, bearing the large volume in both hands in front of him. "Tak' the buik up to Mr Turnbull, Jeames, and snuff his can'les," said Thomas. James took the snuffers, but Richard started up, snatched them from him, and performed the operation himself with his usual success. The book being laid on the desk before Mr Turnbull, Thomas called out into the back region of the chapel, "Noo, Robert Bruce, come foret, and fin' oot this inscription that ye ken a' aboot sae weel, and read it to the church, that they may see what a scholar they hae amo' them." But there was neither voice nor hearing. After a pause, Mr Turnbull spoke. "Mr Bruce, we're waiting for you," he said. "Do not be afraid. You shall have justice." A dead silence followed the appeal. Presently some of those furthest back�-they were women in hooded cloaks and _mutches_-�spoke in scarce audible voices. "He's no here, sir. We canna see him," they said. The minister could not distinguish their words. "No here!" cried Thomas, who, deaf as he was, had heard them. "He was here a minute ago! His conscience has spoken at last. He's fa'en doon, like Ananias, i' the seat." Richard snatched a candle out of the candelabrum, and went to look. Others followed similarly provided. They searched the pew where he had been sitting, and the neighbouring pews, and the whole chapel, but he was nowhere to be found. "That wad hae been him, whan I heard the door bang," they said to each other at length. And so it was. For perceiving how he had committed himself, he had slipped down in the pew, crawled on all fours to the door, and got out of the place unsuspected. A formal sentence of expulsion was passed upon him by a show of hands, and the word _Expelled_ was written against his name in the list of church-members. "Thomas Crann, will you engage in prayer," said Mr Turnbull. "Na, nae the nicht," answered Thomas. "I'm like ane under the auld law that had been buryin' the deid. I hae been doin' necessar' but foul wark, and I'm defiled in consequence. I'm no in a richt speerit to pray in public. I maun awa' hame to my prayers. I houp I mayna do something mysel' afore lang that'll mak' it necessar' for ye to dismiss me neist. But gin that time sud come, spare not, I beseech ye." So, after a short prayer from Mr Turnbull, the meeting separated in a state of considerable excitement. Thomas half expected to hear of an action for libel, but Robert knew better than venture upon that. Besides, no damages could be got out of Thomas. When Bruce was once outside the chapel, he assumed the erect posture to which his claim was entirely one of species, and went home by circuitous ways. He found the shop still open, attended by his wife. "Preserve's, Robert! what's come ower ye?" she exclaimed. "I had sic a sair heid (headache), I was forced to come oot afore a' was dune," he answered. "I dinna think I'll gang ony mair, for they dinna conduc' things a'thegither to my likin'. I winna fash mair wi' them." His wife looked at him anxiously, perhaps with some vague suspicion of the truth; but she said nothing, and I do not believe the matter was ever alluded to between them. The only indications remaining the next day of what he had gone through that evening, consisted in an increase of suavity towards his grown customers, and of acerbity towards the children who were unfortunate enough to enter his shop. Of the two, however, perhaps Thomas Crann was the more unhappy as he went home that night. He felt nothing of the elation which commonly springs from success in a cherished project. He had been the promoter and agent in the downfall of another man, and although the fall was a just one, and it was better too for the man to be down than standing on a false pedestal, Thomas could not help feeling the reaction of a fellow-creature's humiliation. Now that the thing was done, and the end gained, the eternal brotherhood asserted itself, and Thomas pitied Bruce and mourned over him. He must be to him henceforth as a heathen man and a publican, and he was sorry for him. "Ye see," he said to himself, "it's no like a slip or a sin; but an evil disease cleaveth fast unto him, and there's sma' chance o' him ever repentin' noo. A'thing has been dune for him that can be dune." Yet Thomas worshipped a God, who, if the theories Thomas held were correct, could at once, by the free gift of a Holy Spirit, generate repentance in Bruce, and so make him fit for salvation; but who, Thomas believed, would not do so�-at all events, _might_ not do so�-keeping him alive for ever in howling unbelief instead. Scarcely any of the "members" henceforth saluted Bruce in the street. None of them traded with him, except two or three who owed him a few shillings, and could not pay him. And the modifying effect upon the week's returns was very perceptible. This was the only form in which a recognizable vengeance could have reached him. To escape from it, he had serious thoughts of leaving the place, and setting up in some remote village. _ |
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