“That is a light in the window. Jump down,
McKenzie, and inquire.”
Gavin took one step nearer Babbie and stopped.
He did not see how all her courage went from her,
so that her knees yielded, and she held out her arms
to him, but he heard a great sob and then his name.
“Gavin, I am afraid.”
Gavin understood now, and I say he would have been
no man to leave her after that; only a moment was
allowed him, and it was their last chance on earth.
He took it. His arm went round his beloved, and
he drew her away from Nanny’s.
McKenzie found both house and garden empty.
“And yet,” he said, “I swear some
one passed the window as we sighted it.”
“Waste no more time,” cried the impatient
earl. “We must be very near the hill now.
You will have to lead the horse, McKenzie, in this
darkness; the dog may find the way through the broom
for us.”
“The dog has run on,” McKenzie replied,
now in an evil temper. “Who knows, it may
be with her now? So we must feel our way cautiously;
there is no call for capsizing the trap in our haste.”
But there was call for haste if they were to reach
the gypsy encampment before Gavin and Babbie were
made man and wife over the tongs.
The Spittal dogcart rocked as it dragged its way through
the broom. Rob Dow followed. The ten o’clock
bell began to ring.
While the ten o’clock bell
was ringing.
In the square and wynds—weavers
in groups:
“No, no, Davit, Mr. Dishart hadna felt the blow
the piper gave him till he ascended the pulpit to
conduct the prayer-meeting for rain, and then he fainted
awa. Tammas Whamond and Peter Tosh carried him
to the Session-house. Ay, an awful scene.”
“How did the minister no come to the meeting?
I wonder how you could expect it, Snecky, and his
mother taen so suddenly ill; he’s at her bedside,
but the doctor has little hope.”
“This is what has occurred, Tailor: Mr.
Dishart never got the length of the pulpit. He
fell in a swound on the vestry floor. What caused
it? Oh, nothing but the heat. Thrums is so
dry that one spark would set it in a blaze.”
“I canna get at the richts o’ what keeped
him frae the meeting, Femie, but it had something
to do wi’ an Egyptian on the hill. Very
like he had been trying to stop the gypsy marriage
there. I gaed to the manse to speir at Jean what
was wrang, but I’m thinking I telled her mair
than she could tell me.”
“Man, man, Andrew, the wite o’t lies wi’
Peter Tosh. He thocht we was to hae sic a terrible
rain that he implored the minister no to pray for
it, and so angry was Mr. Dishart that he ordered the
whole Session out o’ the kirk. I saw them
in Couthie’s close, and michty dour they looked.”
“Yes, as sure as death, Tammas Whamond locked
the kirk-door in Mr. Dishart’s face.”
