"They have no power but what's given them. I shall accept their decision as the decree of heaven."
"It's weel to be you, sir—'at can tak a thing sae quaiet."
"You mustn't suppose I am naturally so philosophical. It stands for five and forty years of the teaching of the Son of Man in this wonderful school of his, where the clever would be destroyed but for the stupid, where the church would tear itself to pieces but for the laws of the world, and where the wicked themselves are the greatest furtherance of godliness in the good."
"But wha ever cud hae been baze eneuch to du 't!" said Malcolm, too much astounded for his usual eager attention to the words that fell from the master.
"That I would rather not inquire," answered Mr Graham. "In the meantime it would be better if the friends would meet somewhere else, for this house is mine only in virtue of my office. Will you tell them so for me?"
"Surely, sir. But will ye no mak ane?"
"Not till this is settled. I will after, so long as I may be here."
"Gien onybody had been catecheesin' the bairns, I wad surely hae h'ard o' 't!" said Malcolm, after a pause of rumination, "Poochy wad hae tellt me. I saw him thestreen (yestereven).—Wha 'll ever say again a thing's no poassible!"
"Whatever doctrine I may have omitted to press in the school," said Mr Graham, "I have inculcated nothing at variance with the Confession of Faith or the Shorter Catechism."
"Hoo can ye say that, sir?" returned Malcolm, "whan, in as weel's oot o' the schuil, ye hae aye insistit 'at God 's a just God—abune a' thing likin' to gie fair play?"
"Well, does the Catechism say anything to the contrary?"
"No in sae mony words, doobtless; but it says a sicht o' things 'at wad mak God oot the maist oonrichteous tyrant 'at ever was."
" not sure you can show that logically," said Mr Graham. "I will think it over, however—not that I mean to take up any defence of myself. But now I have letters to write, and must ask you to leave me. Come and see me again tomorrow."
Malcolm went from him—
like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn.
Here was trouble upon trouble! But what had befallen him compared with what had come upon the schoolmaster! A man like him to be so treated! How gladly he would work for him all the rest of his days! And how welcome his grandfather would make him to his cottage! Lord Lossie would be the last to object. But he knew it was a baseless castle while he built it, for Mr Graham would assuredly provide for himself, if it were by breaking stones on the road and saying the Lord's Prayer. It all fell to pieces just as he lifted his hand to Miss Horn's knocker.
She received him with a cordiality such as even she had never shown him before. He told her what threatened Mr Graham. She heard him to the end without remark, beyond the interjection of an occasional "Eh, sirs!" then sat for a minute in troubled silence.
"There's a heap o' things an 'uman like me," she said at length, "canna un'erstan'. I didna ken whether some fowk mair nor preten' to un'erstan' them. But set Sandy Graham doon upo' ae side, an' the presbytery doon upo' the ither, an' I hae wit eneuch to ken whilk I wad tak my eternal chance wi'. Some o' the presbytery's guid eneuch men, but haena ower muckle gumption; an' some o' them has plenty o' gumption, but haena ower muckle grace, ta jeedge by the w'y 'at they glower an' rair, layin' doon the law as gien the Almichty had been driven to tak coonsel wi' them. But luik at Sandy Graham! Ye ken whether he has gumption or no; an' gien he be a stickit minister, he stack by the grace o' moadesty. But, haith, I winna peety him! for, o' a' things, to peety a guid man i' the richt gate is a fule's folly. Troth, a hantle mair concernt about yersel', Ma'colm!"
Malcolm heard her without apprehension. His cup seemed full, and he never thought that cups sometimes run over. But perhaps he was so far the nearer to a truth: while the cup of blessing may and often does run over, I doubt if the cup of suffering is ever more than filled to the brim.
"Onything fresh, mem?" he asked, with the image of Mrs Stewart standing ghastly on the slopes of his imagination.
"I wadna be fit to tell ye, laddie, gien 't warna, as ye ken, 'at the Almichty 's been unco mercifu' to me i' the maitter o' feelin's. Yer freen's i' the Seaton, an' ower at Scaurnose, hae feelin's, an' that's hoo nane o' them a' has pluck it up hert to tell ye o' the waggin' o' slanderous tongues against ye."
"What are they sayin' noo?" asked Malcolm with considerable indifference.
"Naither mair nor less than that ye're the father o' an oonborn wean," answered Miss Horn.
"I dinna freely unnerstan' ye," returned Malcolm, for the unexpectedness of the disclosure was scarcely to be mastered at once.
I shall not put on record the plain form of honest speech whereby she made him at once comprehend the nature of the calumny. He started to his feet, and shouted "Wha daur say that?" so loud that the listening Jean almost fell down the stair.
"Wha sud say 't but the lassie hersel'?" answered Miss Horn simply. "She maun hae the best richt to say wha's wha."
"It wad better become anybody but her," said Malcolm.
"What mean ye there, laddie?" cried Miss Horn, alarmed.
"'At nane cud ken sae weel 's hersel' it was a damned lee. Wha is she?"
"Wha but Meg Partan's Lizzy!"
"Puir lassie! is that it?—Eh, but sorry for her! She never said it was me. An' whaever said it, surely ye dinna believe 't o' me, mem?"
"Me believe 't! Malcolm MacPhail, wull ye daur insult a maiden wuman 'at's stude clear o' reproch till she's lang past the danger o' 't? It's been wi' unco sma' diffeeclety, I maun alloo, for I haena been led into ony temptation!"
"Eh, mem!" returned Malcolm, perceiving by the flash of her eyes and the sudden halt of her speech that she was really indignant—"I dinna ken what I hae said to anger ye!"
"Anger me! quo' he? What though I hae nae feelin's! Will he daur till imaigine 'at he wad be sittin' there, an' me haudin' him company, gien I believed him cawpable o' turnin' oot sic a meeserable, contemptible wratch! The Lord come atween me an' my wrath!"
"I beg yer pardon, mem. A body canna aye put things thegither afore he speyks. richt sair obleeged till ye for takin' my pairt."
"I tak naebody's pairt but my ain, laddie. Obleeged to me for haein' a wheen common sense—a thing 'at I was born wi'! Toots! Dinna haiver."
"Weel, mem, what wad ye hae me du? I canna sen' my auld daddie roon the toon wi' his pipes, to procleem 'at no the man. thinkin' I 'll hae to lea' the place."
"Wad ye sen' yer daddy roun' wi' the pipes to say 'at ye was the man? Ye micht as weel du the tane as the tither. Mony a better man has been waur misca'd, an' gart fowk forget that ever the lee was lee'd. Na, na; never rim frae a lee. An' never say, naither, 'at ye didna du the thing, 'cept it be laid straucht to yer face. Lat a lee lie i' the dirt. Gien ye pike it up, the dirt 'll stick till ye, though ye fling the lee ower the dyke at the warl's en'. Na, na! Lat a lee lie, as ye wad the deevil's tail 'at the laird's Jock took aff wi' the edge o' 's spaud."
"A' thing 's agane me the noo!" sighed Malcolm.
"Auld Jobb ower again!" returned Miss Horn almost sarcastically. "The deil had the warst o' 't though, an' wull hae, i' the lang hinner en'. Meanwhile ye maun face him. There's nae airmour for the back aither i' the Bible or i' the Pilgrim's Progress."
"What wad ye hae me du, than, mem?"
"Du? Wha said ye was to du onything? The best duin whiles is to bide still. Lat ye the jaw (wave) gae ower ohn joukit (without ducking)."
"Gien I binna to du onything, I maist wiss I hadna kent," said Malcolm, whose honourable nature writhed under the imputed vileness.
"It's aye better to ken in what licht ye stan' wi' ither fowk. It hauds ye ohn lippent ower muckle, an' sae dune things or made remarks 'at wad be misread till ye. Ye maun haud an open ro'd, 'at the trowth whan it comes oot may have free course. The ae thing 'at spites me is, 'at the verra fowk 'at was the first to spread yer ill report, 'ill be the first to wuss ye weel whan the trowth's kent—ay, an they 'll persuaud their verra sel's 'at they stuck up for ye like born brithers."