There was nae deid-thraws wi Mirren, and sheslyin
as peacefu as a bairn.
Macmichael had never muckle butbannocks to set
before his friends.
The work for which he longed was to save and
comforthuman souls. The three stared at the splendour, and Mr. He had riddenat a
slow jog, but the beasts neck and flanks were damp withsweat. Fordyce looked at the
shelves with greedy eyes.
David saw from the mans facethat he was grey with
fatigue. He thought it was his plaid, but the plaid wasabout his chest and shoulders
and far from his mouth.
If you belong hereaways you can maybe help us with
theroad.
I saw ye tak the hilland I bode to follow, for I
was wantin to bid ye welcome toWoodilee.
Losh, heres the lexicon of Bamburgius, of which
Ihave read but have never seen. Hasit not Peter Pennecuik, who has a gift of
supplication like Mr. The three had moved out from the shade of the alders and were
nowclear under the sky.
Elspet, shesays to me, what will that puir man o
mine dae his lee lane?
Ay, sir, she said, our lines is fallen intil a
goodlyplace and a pleasant habitation. He scarcely heard theclatter of the shepherds
wife. Troopers, common troopers and shabby at that,riding weary, ill-conditioned
beasts.
Up by Mirehope and round by the back o the
Hill.
But they never ventured intothe Wud, honest men.
Sempill, and dinna let on that Gibbie telled ye.
I would have left thechoice to every mans
conscience.
Is there the spirit of God in the
people?
Man,Eben, you folk at Bold live ower far from the
world.
The Wood,this hoary Wood of Caledon, must dominate
their thoughts and formtheir characters. He had grown up beside it and had notknown
of it, and now he had come back to a revelation. As he turned up the road to the
Greenshiel he remembered withcompunction his errand.
But gang your ways,sir, for a man o God is no like
common folk.
The ministerinstinctively gripped his staff
tighter, but Gibbies intention wasof the friendliest.
Idaurna speak my ain name among the trees. The road
plucked up courage, and for a littleran broad and straight through a covert of
birches. The goingwas bad, and the groom with the led horse had the worst of it. Had
not some one called it the BlackWood? Woodilee hasaye been famous for its godly
elders. A woman was moving beside the box bed and unfolding a pieceof coarse
linen.
Losh, heres the lexicon of Bamburgius, of which
Ihave read but have never seen.
TheBlack Wood could tell some tales if the trees
could talk. Rushlights burned in the single room, and the door and the onewindow
stood open.