Part 24 (1/2)
It pleased the old man no little that, in spite of his father's loving greeting, wee Andrew stole away to his side.
”You see, Davie,” he urged in apology, ”he's mair at hame like wi'
me.”
And then he drew the child to him, and let his whole heart go out now, without check or reproach, to ”Davie's bairn.”
”But you have not finished your story, Mr. Cargill,” said John, and David sighed as he answered,
”There is naething by the ordinar in it. I went back to the warks I had got a footing in, the Glencart Iron Warks, and gradually won my way to the topmost rungs o' the ladder. I am head buyer now, hae a gude share i' the concern, and i' money matters there's plenty folk waur off than David Cargill. When I put my father's forgiveness, my mither's love, and my Bessie's bonnie lad to the lave, I may weel say that 'they are weel guided that G.o.d guides.' A week ago I went into the editor's room o' the Glasgow Herald,' and the man no being in I lifted a paper and saw in it my father's message to me. It's sma'
credit that I left a' and answered it.”
”What paper, Mr. Cargill, what paper?”
”They ca' it 'The Watchman.' I hae it in my pocket.”
”I thought so,” said John triumphantly. ”It's a grand paper; every one ought to have it.”
”It is welcome evermore in my house,” said Davie.
”It means weel, it means weel,” said Andrew, with a great stretch of charity, ”but I dinna approve o' its doctrines at a', and--”
”It found David for you, Andrew.”
”Ay, ay, G.o.d uses a' kinds o' instruments. 'The Watchman' isna as auld as the Bible yet, John, and it's ill praising green barley.”
”Now, Andrew, I think--”
”Tut, tut, John, I'se no sit i' Rome and strive wi' the pope; there's naething ill said, you ken, if it's no ill taken.”
John smiled tolerantly, and indeed there was no longer time for further discussion, for the shepherds from the hills and the farmers from the glen had heard of David's return, and were hurrying to Cargill to see him. Mysie saw that there would be a goodly company, and the long harvest-table was brought in and a feast of thanksgiving spread. Conversation in that house could only set one way, and after all had eaten and David had told his story again, one old man after another spoke of the dangers they had encountered and the spiritual foes they had conquered.
Whether it was the speaking, or the sympathy of numbers, or some special influence of the Holy Ghost, I know not; but suddenly Andrew lifted his n.o.ble old head and spoke thus:
”Frien's, ye hae some o' you said ill things o' yoursel's, but to the sons o' G.o.d there is nae condemnation; not that I hae been althegither faultless, but I meant weel, an' the lad was a wilfu' lad, and ye ken what the wisest o' men said anent such. Just and right has been my walk before you, but--still--” Then, with a sudden pa.s.sion, and rising to his feet, he cried out, ”Frien's, I'm a poor sinfu' man, but I'll play no mair pliskies wi' my conscience. I hae dootless been a hard master, hard and stern, and loving Sinai far beyond Bethlehem. Hard was I to my lad, and hard hae I been to the wife o' my bosom, and hard hae I been to my ain heart. It has been my ain will and my ain way all my life lang. G.o.d forgie me! G.o.d forgie me! for this night he has brought my sins to my remembrance. I hae been your elder for mair than forty years, but I hae ne'er been worthy to carry his holy vessels.
I'll e'en sit i' the lowest seat henceforward.”
”Not so,” said John. And there was such eager praise, and such warm love rose from every mouth, that words began to fail, and as the old man sat down smiling, happier than he had ever been before, song took up the burden speech laid down; for John started one of those old triumphant Methodist hymns, and the rafters shook to the melody, and the stars heard it, and the angels in heaven knew a deeper joy.
Singing, the company departed, and Andrew, standing in the moonlight between David and John, watched the groups scatter hither and thither, and heard, far up the hills and down the glen, that sweet, sweet refrain,
”Canaan, bright Canaan!
Will you go to the land of Canaan?”
After this David stayed a week at Glenmora, and then it became necessary for him to return to Glasgow. But wee Andrew was to have a tutor and remain with his grandparents for some years at least. Andrew himself determined to ”tak a trip” and see Scotland and the wonderful iron works of which he was never weary of hearing David talk.
When he reached Kendal, however, and saw for the first time the Caledonian Railway and its locomotives, nothing could induce him to go farther.