Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa

by Robert Cleland

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  _DEALING WITH A SINNER IN LOVE AND FAITHFULNESS_.

  The next day Roderick, having slept well, was greatly refreshed, andfelt strong enough to move to his easy chair by the fire. Mary hadheaped up the peat and coppice oak on the hearth, and thrown open thewindow till the air grew sweet and wholesome, and the clammy damps oftheir hovel were dissipated like the nightmares that had beenoppressing his brain all through the past dreary week.

  'And what can the rumours be that Sophie spoke of, Mary?' he asked. 'Ireally am curious to know. I suspect they have influenced more peoplethan that absurd Duchess. That would account for the way the peoplehave stayed away from me, which has been surprising and evendistressing me a good deal. However, I am getting better now; a day ortwo more and I shall be out among them, and I shall find it all out.But I really feel hurt by their coldness and indifference to me.'

  'Nonsense, Roddie! They are a foolish and ungrateful lot; never mindthem. You must follow the doctor's advice, and go south for thewinter, as soon as you are able to travel. Just look at the walls!green with damp, and the moisture trickling down the plaster; and yetthis is only October! What will it be in January? It is fine weathernow, and we are burning as much fuel as can be done without settingthe house on fire, and it takes it all to drive the horrid mouldinesseven temporarily out of the air. When winter comes and the rain isincessant out of doors, except when it snows, perhaps, for a change,the window must be kept closed, and the mouldiness and the damp willturn the place into a very cave, and, as the doctor said, after thisattack a very little matter will drive you into a consumption. Youmust not think of it--it terrifies me, and, indeed, I am afraid evenfor myself. As for the people--I think they will very likely thinkbetter of you after we are gone. When your charities among them aresuspended, very likely they may think more of you and them. It willserve them right, and be a warning against wagging their tattlingtongues so freely for the future. Have done with them! They are aworthless set.'

  'Fie, Mary! What are any of us but poor worthless creatures? We whohave education and an income, should not be hard on the poor souls.The world must appear very different to them, from what it does to us.Think what it must be to look into the half empty meal-girnel, and atthe little heap of potatoes, and know that that is all between themand starvation, till more is earned,--that the smallest miscarriage, adelay in receiving the weekly wage, a stumble ending in a sprain,sickness of a child, even an accident to a horse or a car, may entaila supperless night, or a day of hunger! And when all the energy andcare are needed to stave off from day to day their physicaldestitution, is it not too much to look for those more graceful andspiritual charities which make our life pleasant? It takes so much oflight and heat and moisture to support the mere plant life; and whenthese are so stintedly supplied, it is surely over-exacting to lookfor the same profusion of flower and fruit on the bare hill-side asone expects in a sheltered garden. In visiting among the poor, I haveoften felt humbled at the view of their sturdy fortitude underprivation, and the extent of their unostentatious charities to oneanother. They will stint themselves of the necessaries of life to helpthose worse provided than themselves, but they cannot talk about it.Indeed, the beautiful act and the gracious word are never to be metwith both on the same bush among these wind-swept hills, and I amthankful to say it is the deed I have oftenest observed. I feel boundto make allowance for much rugged speech which might sound hard anduncharitable to a stranger. You may sow mignonette and gilly-flower inyour garden, but it is the heather, tough and sturdy, which grows uponthe braes, and defies the blasts; and that, too, has its beauty andits sweetness, and we value it less only because it is more abundantand common.'

  'Poor Roderick! The hebdomadal orator had broken out in him after hislong rest in bed,--the habit of prelecting before a silent auditory,which many find so difficult to acquire, and which, when learnt, makesso many long-winded and pragmatical nuisances in private life. It didnot trouble Mary. Born in a manse, she had been used to prelectionsall her life, and as the periods would grow longer and more resonant,she would know that no answer was expected, and would go on with herwork. Perhaps she regarded it as practise for Sunday, most likely shedid not think of it at all, as she settled more steadily to hertatting and crochet work--the Penelope's web, always beginning andnever apparently coming to an end,--which kept her fingers pleasantlybusy, and left her mind in perfect peace.

  There is no saying to what heights and depths of wisdom, or, mayhap,nonsense, Roderick might have attained. The muse theologic, after aweek's inaction, inclined to long and discursive flight, but wasinterrupted in full career by the entrance of Mr. Sangster.

  Mr. Sangster was always a welcome visitor, being indeed the only manin the congregation of education or judgment sufficient to warrantconfidential consultation. His rugged face and burly form showed somediscomposure, as, after a greeting of unusual warmth, for him, he tookhis seat.

  'This is not a mere friendly visit, Mr. Roderick,' he said;' I wish itwas. I am the advanced guard, if I may say so, of a deputation whichis going to wait on you; and I wish you distinctly to understand, thatI have no sympathy with it whatever. I would say that their errand isboth impertinent and absurd, but that these expressions are not halfstrong enough to convey what I think; and, as I have told them, I onlyaccompany them to assure you that, though they are taking upon them tospeak in the name of your flock, we are not all to be taken asrepresented by them. Quite the contrary!'

  Mary flushed and looked disturbed, and presently she left the room.

  Roderick's face showed only astonishment. 'But what is it about, Mr.Sangster? Mary has used the word '_rumours_' more than once, but shehas not explained it, and you know I have been shut up here for a weekpast. There must be something the matter, for none of the people havecome to see me, and scarcely any so far as I know have even asked howI am. I have been so ill as scarcely to have noted the neglect, butto-day, when I am again able to think, it seems strange. There are somany warm hearts among them.'

  'A set of born idiots!' muttered the Laird testily. But at that momentthe door opened, and the deputation appeared. Ebenezer Prittie andPeter Malloch were grave and austere of demeanour, and dignifiedwithal, but a little uncertain. They had thought to gather facts,hints, and experience for this more weighty visitation, in theirpreliminary raid on Tibbie Tirpie; but when they had arrived beforeher shieling, the door was locked, and no sign of life showed aroundthe premises but a starveling black cat, which arched its backthreateningly at their approach, and guarded the threshold with adisplay of needle-sharp claws and teeth.

  Mr. Geddie's deportment also was grave, but solemn rather than severe.He was minded that his disapproval should be chastened with much love,and expected thereby to win the culprit to repentance, and what wouldbe especially convenient in the present unripe and ill-gotten-up stateof their case, to confession.

  Roderick greeted them with his wonted cordiality, provided them withseats, and sat down facing them to hear what they would say, while theLaird twirled his thumbs in expectancy; but they said nothing.

  The laymen exchanged shakes of the head and glances of sorrowfulreprobation at the tranquil composure of this impenitent sinner, thenthey sighed despondingly and looked at the carpet, till their clericalleader should begin. Mr. Geddie had his voice and demeanour attuned tosad solemnity and love, but the words which these sentiments were toclothe were slow to arrive. He looked secretly at his intendedpenitent, as if inviting him to open the conference, but theinvitation was unheeded. Curiosity and a well-mannered patience onlywere apparent in his bearing, and these were gradually changed intoastonished amusement as the silence continued, and perhaps some slightgleam of mischief, as Mr. Geddie's regard grew more appealing. It wasevident that their errand, whatever it might be, was hardly a friendlyone, or they would not feel so much difficulty in putting it intowords; and there was no reason why he should assist them to get intoposition the artillery with which t
hey were about to open a cannonadeon himself.

  Mr. Geddie was an accomplished preacher. He could preach from anytext, at any length, and what was more, on any subject,--at least hecould work round to the subject he meant to discuss, from any text orsubject whatever, in a way the most natural. But a text or startingpoint of some kind he must have, and hence his desire that Roderickshould speak. Had he even spoken of the weather, there would have beenan opening to compare present climatic conditions with those which theimpenitent wicked shall hereafter experience, and the whole affairwould then have been open before him, to discourse on such points andphases as appeared expedient. But this obdurate person remainedpersistently silent, instead of helping with becoming meekness toprepare the discipline for his own shoulders. Mr. Geddie at lengthbethought him of his Bible, and, like any other proper-minded person,had recourse to that in his difficulty. Lifting his voice in amelancholy cadence, while he opened the book--

  'Let us read,' he cried, 'for edification and correction, a few of thePsalms.'

  His voice rose and fell according to his peculiar theory of elocution,getting fuller and louder as he warmed to the work, till he had readthrough the seven penitential Psalms. Then he paused and closed thebook.

  'Brother!' he said, 'the words which we have read are the inspiredexpression of contrition and penitence. They give fitting voice toevery agonized soul that has--stumbled in the miry ways of life.Still, they are but in the general. Each case must bring its ownparticular specification of transgression--must bring forth its owndead out of its secret chambers, must lay bare its own moral wounds,and expose them to the healing sight of truth. The passer-by may shootout the tongue and say, 'Aha!' but thou, my brother, hast purged thyskirts by open confession and separation, and mayhap thou mayest savethy soul! And oh! my brother, it is above price!'

  Roderick sat speechless and amazed. Had Mr. Geddie been alone, hewould have supposed that he had lost his wits, or, in view of theweight he attached to the penitential Psalms and to penitence, whichmight perhaps mean penance, especially when coupled with confession,he might have supposed that he had joined the Jesuits, who werebelieved to be especially active at that time, and to be using allmanner of crafty devices to secure converts; but after what the Lairdhad said, and in view of the lay delegates present, some otherexplanation was needed.

  'And art thou still speechless, Oh, my brother?' the exhorter went on,'Thou for whom our hearts have yearned with many tears? Think notlonger to shelter in delusive secresy. Thy refuges of lies areoverthrown, thy sin discovered. Come forth and make submission to theChurch, while there is time! lest no place be found for repentance,though thou seek it with tears!'

  Mr. Geddie's own handkerchief here came into requisition. If we wouldraise the sluices of our neighbours' tears, it is not amiss to beginby letting loose our own. Hysteria is infinitely infectious, as morethan one pulpit orator, blessed with the gift of tears, has found inhis brilliantly successful experience.

  Roderick caught at the momentary silence to enquire what it all meant,and to what circumstance he could possibly be indebted for thesingular scene. He looked to Ebenezer and Peter Malloch, but bothturned their eyes austerely away, and fixed them on the carpet. Henext addressed the Laird; but the Laird replied that they must statetheir own errand, he would not soil his lips with it, and if they hadsense enough left to let decent shame keep them even yet fromspeaking, the best thing they could do would be to leave it unsaid,and trust to the whole exhibition being condoned as a mistake.

  Mr. Geddie, handkerchief in hand, eyes fixed on the ground, wasgathering his forces for a fresh onslaught on this hard and obdurateconscience. Mr. Sangster's remark appeared singularly inopportune,treacherous even, and most censurable. What hope of reducing thegarrison if his own followers, his auxiliaries at least, were thus toturn and raise a diversion in favour of the besieged? He turned to theLaird in sorrow rather than in anger--

  'Surely, Mr. Sangster, in view of the heavy responsibility weyesterday undertook, it is not well to encourage our brother inhardening his heart!'

  'What responsibilities have you undertaken, Mr. Geddie?' askedRoderick; 'and who has laid them upon you?' I have listened to yourreading and your exhortation, which I assume are meant for my benefit,but you have not condescended to explain their object, and I am at aloss to understand what it is you want.'

  Mr. Geddie looked to his two associates, appalled at such persistence,and sadly shook his head. The associates shook their heads also, andlooked uncomfortable. They were aware from the attitude of the Lairdthat there was a certain degree of thinness as yet in their case, whenit came to be stated in detail without inference and insinuation; andthey had been hoping that the solemn exercises in which they hadengaged were to move the sinner to repentance and compel him toconfess his fault. For they began to fear it might be hard for thepresent to prove the fault, and would have preferred to be left onlythe easier parts, rebuking the offender, and figuring before theChurch as its zealous and victorious champions. The silence continued.Mr. Geddie had been dwelling on the moral and emotional aspects of thecase, rather than the circumstantial. To his excellent, and evendevout, but far from legal mind, the question had appeared to be oneof sin, repentance, and church discipline; the more secularconsiderations of guilty or not guilty, facts, proofs, andprobabilities, had never occurred to him at all. The case had beenpresented to him by persons whom he believed to be excellent and ofsound evangelical views, and he had never dreamed of questioning whatthey said, revising the grounds of their suspicions, or asking whatthere might be to urge on the other side. When, therefore, thedefendant requested, as it were, to hear the indictment against him,his thoughts and ideas had to be called in from the wide and verydifferent field over which they were scattered, and brought to bear ona different and entirely new aspect of the case. While he had beendeeply moved and interested in the case, viewed as one of establishedill-doing, and had thought out very fully the relations of the churchto the sinner and the sin, he found that his mind had entirely leftout of consideration the grounds on which the accusation had beenbased, and that if it came to discussing the question of guilty or notguilty, he knew nothing about it and had nothing to say. It is not tobe supposed, however, that on that account he believed any the lessutterly in the guilt of the accused. He felt that he could not discussit, being unprepared; but his mind, though well-meaning and incapableof intentional disingenuousness, was of the tenacious rather than thatfacile and self-styled candid order which, because it is incapable oftaking strong hold, and is easily moved by every fresh suggestion,claims to be dispassionate and judicial. This man had been representedto him by what he considered good authority, as a sinner, and a sinnerhe would continue to regard him till irrefragable proof or higherauthority declared the reverse. Mr. Geddie, therefore, kept silenceunder the new aspect of the case. He was clearly entitled to do so,seeing that in a question of circumstance, a parishioner with localknowledge must be able to speak with more understanding than astranger, even though an ordained minister. On Ebenezer it naturallydevolved to speak. He straightened himself in his seat, opened hismouth even and drew in the needful breath; but while he considered howthe 'winged words' ought to arrange themselves, the vital wind escapedunmodulated from the doubting chest. A henpecked person, his verbalventures had so often come to grief, that he had learned so to thinkand think, before he hazarded an utterance, that the opportunity, thebreath, and even the idea were generally gone before he had strunghimself to the utterance. The duty, therefore, fell to Peter Malloch,on whom no suspicion of henpecking could rest, as witness the mildapologetic sister who sometimes waited in the shop, and the meek oldmother who was always stitching shirts for him, and spoke of him asthe Convener;--and then there was no wife.

  Peter cleared his voice and leant forward. Nothing could have pleasedhim more than thus to hold forth before a minister and the Laird; asuccess might lead to his being admitted to the eldership, and wouldcertainly add to his weight in the church, so he resolved to d
ohimself justice.