robert falconer- 第92部分

than　for　any　sufferings　either　in　himself　or　others。　'Shargar！'

pronounced　in　a　tone　full　of　a　thousand　memories；　was　all　the

greeting　he　returned；　but　his　great　manly　hand　pressed　Shargar's

delicate　long…fingered　one　with　a　grasp　which　must　have　satisfied

his　friend　that　everything　was　as　it　had　been　between　them；　and　that

their　friendship　from　henceforth　would　take　a　new　start。　　For　with

all　that　Robert　had　seen；　thought；　and　learned；　now　that　the

bitterness　of　loss　had　gone　by；　the　old　times　and　the　old　friends

were　dearer。　　If　there　was　any　truth　in　the　religion　of　God's　will；

in　which　he　was　a　disciple；　every　moment　of　life's　history　which　had

brought　soul　in　contact　with　soul；　must　be　sacred　as　a　voice　from

behind　the　veil。　　Therefore　he　could　not　now　rest　until　he　had　gone

to　see　his　grandmother。



'Will　you　come　to　Rothieden　with　me；　Shargar？　　I　beg　your　pardonI

oughtn't　to　keep　up　an　old　nickname；'　said　Robert；　as　they　sat　that

evening　with　the　doctor；　over　a　tumbler　of　toddy。



'If　you　call　me　anything　else；　I'll　cut　my　throat；　Robert；　as　I　told

you　before。　　If　any　one　else　does；'　he　added；　laughing；　'I'll　cut

his　throat。'



'Can　he　go　with　me；　doctor？'　asked　Robert；　turning　to　their　host。



'Certainly。　　He　has　not　been　to　Rothieden　since　he　took　his　degree。

He's　an　A。M。　now；　and　has　distinguished　himself　besides。　　You'll

see　him　in　his　uniform　soon；　I　hope。　　Let's　drink　his　health；

Robert。　　Fill　your　glass。'



The　doctor　filled　his　glass　slowly　and　solemnly。　　He　seldom　drank

even　wine；　but　this　was　a　rare　occasion。　　He　then　rose；　and　with

equal　slowness；　and　a　tremor　in　his　voice　which　rendered　it

impossible　to　imagine　the　presence　of　anything　but　seriousness；

said；



'Robert；　my　son；　let's　drink　the　health　of　George　Moray；　Gentleman。

Stand　up。'



Robert　rose；　and　in　his　confusion　Shargar　rose　too；　and　sat　down

again；　blushing　till　his　red　hair　looked　yellow　beside　his　cheeks。

The　men　repeated　the　words；　'George　Moray；　Gentleman；'　emptied

their　glasses；　and　resumed　their　seats。　　Shargar　rose　trembling；　and

tried　in　vain　to　speak。　　The　reason　in　part　was；　that　he　sought　to

utter　himself　in　English。



'Hoots！　　Damn　English！'　he　broke　out　at　last。　'Gin　I　be　a　gentleman；

Dr。　Anderson　and　Robert　Falconer；　it's　you　twa　'at's　made　me　ane；

an'　God　bless　ye；　an'　I'm　yer　hoomble　servant　to　a'　etairnity。'



So　saying；　Shargar　resumed　his　seat；　filled　his　glass　with　trembling

hand；　emptied　it　to　hide　his　feelings；　but　without　success；　rose

once　more；　and　retreated　to　the　hall　for　a　space。



The　next　morning　Robert　and　Shargar　got　on　the　coach　and　went　to

Rothieden。　　Robert　turned　his　head　aside　as　they　came　near　the

bridge　and　the　old　house　of　Bogbonnie。　　But；　ashamed　of　his

weakness；　he　turned　again　and　looked　at　the　house。　　There　it　stood；

all　the　same；a　thing　for　the　night　winds　to　howl　in；　and　follow

each　other　in　mad　gambols　through　its　long　passages　and　rooms；　so

empty　from　the　first　that　not　even　a　ghost　had　any　reason　for　going

therea　place　almost　without　a　historydreary　emblem　of　so　many

empty　souls　that　have　hidden　their　talent　in　a　napkin；　and　have

nothing　to　return　for　it　when　the　Master　calls　them。　　Having　looked

this　one　in　the　face；　he　felt　stronger　to　meet　those　other　places

before　which　his　heart　quailed　yet　more。　　He　knew　that　Miss　St。　John

had　left　soon　after　Ericson's　death：　whether　he　was　sorry　or　glad

that　he　should　not　see　her　he　could　not　tell。　　He　thought　Rothieden

would　look　like　Pompeii；　a　city　buried　and　disinterred；　but　when　the

coach　drove　into　the　long　straggling　street；　he　found　the　old　love

revive；　and　although　the　blood　rushed　back　to　his　heart　when　Captain

Forsyth's　house　came　in　view；　he　did　not　turn　away；　but　made　his

eyes；　and　through　them　his　heart；　familiar　with　its　desolation。　　He

got　down　at　the　corner；　and　leaving　Shargar　to　go　on　to　The　Boar's

Head　and　look　after　the　luggage；　walked　into　his　grandmother's　house

and　straight　into　her　little　parlour。　　She　rose　with　her　old

stateliness　when　she　saw　a　stranger　enter　the　room；　and　stood

waiting　his　address。



'Weel；　grannie；'　said　Robert；　and　took　her　in　his　arms。



'The　Lord's　name　be　praised！'　faltered　she。　'He's　ower　guid　to　the

likes　o'　me。'



And　she　lifted　up　her　voice　and　wept。



She　had　been　informed　of　his　coming；　but　she　had　not　expected　him

till　the　evening；　he　was　much　altered；　and　old　age　is　slow。



He　had　hardly　placed　her　in　her　chair；　when　Betty　came　in。　　If　she

had　shown　him　respect　before；　it　was　reverence　now。



'Eh；　sir！'　she　said；　'I　didna　ken　it　was　you；　or　I　wadna　hae　come

into　the　room　ohn　chappit　at　the　door。　　I'll　awa'　back　to　my

kitchie。'



So　saying；　she　turned　to　leave　the　room。



'Hoots！　　Betty；'　cried　Robert；　'dinna　be　a　gowk。　　Gie　's　a　grip　o

yer　han'。'



Betty　stood　staring　and　irresolute；　overcome　at　sight　of　the　manly

bulk　before　her。



'Gin　ye　dinna　behave　yersel'；　Betty；　I'll　jist　awa'　ower　to

Muckledrum；　an'　hae　a　caw　（drive）　throu　the　sessions…buik。'



Betty　laughed　for　the　first　time　at　the　awful　threat；　and　the　ice

once　broken；　things　returned　to　somewhat　of　their　old　footing。



I　must　not　linger　on　these　days。　　The　next　morning　Robert　paid　a

visit　to　Bodyfauld；　and　found　that　time　had　there　flowed　so　gently

that　it　had　left　but　few　wrinkles　and　fewer　gray　hairs。　　The　fields；

too；　had　little　change　to　show；　and　the　hill　was　all　the　same；　save

that　its　pines　had　grown。　　His　chief　mission　was　to　John　Hewson　and

his　wife。　　When　he　left　for　the　continent；　he　was　not　so　utterly

absorbed　in　his　own　griefs　as　to　forget　Jessie。　　He　told　her　story

to　Dr。　Anderson；　and　the　good　man　had　gone　to　see　her　the　same　day。



In　the　evening；　when　he　knew　he　should　find　them　both　at　home；　he

walked　into　the　cottage。　　They　were　seated　by　the　fire；　with　the

same　pot　hanging　on　the　same　crook　for　their　supper。　　They　rose；　and

asked　him　to　sit　down；　but　did　not　know　him。　　When　he　told　them　who

he　was；　they　greeted　him　warmly；　and　John　Hewson　smiled　something　of

the　old　smile；　but　only　like　it；　for　it　had　no　'rays　proportionately

delivered'　from　his　mouth　over　his　face。



After　a　little　indifferent　chat；　Robert　said；



'I　came　through　Aberdeen　yesterday；　John。'



At　the　very　mention　of　Aberdeen；　John's　head　sunk。　　He　gave　no

answer；　but　sat　looking　in　the　fire。　　His　wife　rose　and　went　to　the

other　end　of　the　room；　busying　herself　quietly　about　the　supper。

Robert　thought　it　best　to　plunge　into　the　matter　at　once。



'I　saw　Jessie　last　nicht；'　he　said。



Still　there　was　no　reply。　　John's　face　had　grown　hard　as　a　stone

face；　but　Robert　thought　rather　from　the　determination　to　govern　his

feelings　than　from　resentment。



'She's　been　doin'　weel　ever　sin'　syne；'　he　added。



Still　no　word　from　either；　and　Robert　fearing　some　outburst　of

indignation　ere　he　had　said　his　say；　now　made　haste。



'She's　been　a　servant　wi'　Dr。　Anderson　for　four　year　noo；　an'　he's

sair　pleased　wi'　her。　　She's　a　fine　woman。　　But　her　bairnie's　deid；

an'　that　was　a　sair　blow　till　her。'



He　heard　a　sob　from　the　mother；　but　still　John　made　no　sign。



'It　was　a　bonnie　bairnie　as　ever　ye　saw。　　It　luikit　in　her　face；　she

says；　as　gin　it　kent　a'　aboot　it；　and　had　only　come　to　help　her

throu　the　warst　o'　't；　for　it　gaed　hame　'maist　as　sune's　ever　she

was　richt　able　to　thank　God　for　sen'in'　her　sic　an　angel　to　lead　her

to　repentance。'



'John；'　said　his　wife；　coming　behind　his　chair；　and　laying　her　hand

on　his　shoulder；　'what　for　dinna　ye　speyk？　　Ye　hear　what　Maister

Faukner　says。Ye　dinna　think　a　thing's　clean　useless　'cause　there

may　be　a　spot　upo'　't？'　she　added；　wiping　her　eyes　with　her　apron。



'A　spot　upo'　't？'　cried　John；　starting　to　his　feet。　'What　ca'　ye　a

spot？Wuman；　dinna　drive　me　mad　to　hear　ye　lichtlie　the　glory　o'

virginity。'



'That's　a'　verra　weel；　John；'　interposed　Robert　quietly；　'but　there

was　ane　thocht　as　muckle　o'　't　as　ye　do；　an'　wad　hae　been　ashamed　to

hear　ye　speak　that　gait　aboot　yer　ain　dauchter'



'I　dinna　unnerstan'　ye；'　returned　Hewson；　looking　raised…like　at

him。



'Dinna　ye　ken；　man；　that　amo'　them　'at　kent　the　Lord　best　whan　he

cam　frae　haiven　to　luik　efter　his　ainto　seek　and　to　save；　ye

kenamo'　them　'at　cam　roon　aboot　him　to　hearken　till　'im；　was

lasses　'at　had　gane　the　wrang　gait　a'thegither；no　like　your　bonnie

Jessie　'at　fell　but　ance。　　Man；　ye're　jist　like　Simon　the　Pharisee；

'at　was　sae　scunnert　at　oor　Lord　'cause　he　loot　the　wuman　'at　was　a

sinner　tak　her　wull　o'　's　feetthe　feet　'at　they　war　gaein'　to　tak

their　wull　o'　efter　anither　fashion　afore　lang。　　He　wad　hae　shawn

her　the　doorSimon　wadlike　you；　John；　but　the　Lord　tuik　her

pairt。　　An'　lat　me　tell　you；　Johnan'　I　winna　beg　yer　pardon　for

sayin'　't；　for　it's　God's　trowthlat　me　tell　you；　'at　gin　ye　gang

on　that　gait　ye'll　be　sidin'　wi'　the　Pharisee；　an'　no　wi'　oor　Lord。

Ye　may　l