Warlock o' Glenwarlock by George MacDonald (summer beach reads .TXT) 📖

like a vaggabon. Come, I'll gie ye a guid hoor's wark for a place to wash mysel', an' put on a clean sark."

"Hae ye the sark?"

" I HAE't here i' my bag."

"An' what du ye want to put on a clean sark for? What'll ye du whan ye hae't on?"

"Gie ye anither hoor's wark for the heel o' a loaf an' a drink o' watter."

"Ye'll be wantin' to be taen on, I s' wad (WAGER) ye a worm!"

"Gien ye cud gie me a day's wark, or maybe twa," began Cosmo, thinking how much rather he would fall in with Lady Joan about the garden than go up to the house.

"I weel thoucht there sud be mair intil't nor appeart! Ye wad fain hae the auld man's shune, an' mak sur o' them afore he kickit them frae him! Ay! It's jist like the likes o' ye! Mine's a place the like o' you's keen set efter! Ye think it's a' ait an' play! Gang awa' wi' ye, an' latna me see the face o' ye again, or I s' ca' to them 'at 'll tak accoont o' ye."

"Hoot, man!" returned Cosmo, and went on turning the ground over, "ye're unco hard upon a neebor!"

"Neebor! ye're no neebor o' mine! Gang awa' wi' ye, I tell ye!"

"Did naebody never gie' YOU a helpin' han','at ye're sae dooms hard upo' ane 'at needs ane?"

"Gien onybody ever did, it wasna you."

"But dinna ye think ye're a kin' o' b'un' to du the like again?"

"Ay, to him 'at did itbut I tell ye ye're no the man; sae gang aboot yer business."

"Someday ye may want somebody ance mair to du ye a guid turn!"

"I hae dune a heap to gie me a claim on consideration. I hae grown auld upo' the place. What hae YE dune, my man?"

"I wadna hae muckle chance o' duin' onything, gien a' body was like you. But did ye never hear tell o' ane 'at said:'Ye wad du naething for nane o' mine, sae ye refeesed mysel'?"

"Deed, an' I wull refeese yersel'," returned the old man. "Sic a chield for jaw an'cheeksaw I never naneas the auld sang says! Whaur on this earth cam ye frae?"

As he spoke, he gave Cosmo a round punch on the shoulder next him that made him look from his work, and then began eying him up and down in the most supercilious manner. He was a small, withered, bowed man, with a thin wizened face, crowned by a much worn fur cap. His mouth had been so long drawn down at each corner as by weights of discontent, that it formed nearly a half-circle. His eyebrows were lifted as far as they would go above his red-lidded blue eyes, and there was a succession of ripply wrinkles over each of them, which met in the middle of his forehead, so that he was all over arches. Under his cap stuck out enormous ears, much too large for his face. Huge veiny hands hung trembling by his sides, but they trembled more from anger than from age.

"I tellt ye a'ready," answered Cosmo; "I come frae the auld country."

"Deil tak the auld country! What care I for the auld country! It's a braid place, an' langer nor it's braid, an' there's mony ane intil't an' oot on't 'at's no warth the parritch his mither pat intil 'im. Eh, the fowth o' fushionless beggars I hae seen come to me like yersel'!Ow ay! it was aye wark they wad hae!an' cudna du mair nor a flee amo' triacle!What coonty are ye frae, wi' the lang legs an' the lang back-bane o' ye?"

Cosmo told him. The hands of the old man rose from his sides, and made right angles of his elbows.

"Weel," he said slowly, "that's no an ill coonty to come frae. I may say THAT, for I belang til't mysel'. But what pairt o' 't ran ye frae whan ye cam awa'?"

"I ran frae nae pairt, but I cam frae hame i' the north pairt o' that same," answered Cosmo, and bent again to his work.

The man came a step nearer, and Cosmo, without looking up, was aware he was regarding him intently.

"Ay! ay!" he said at last, in a tone of reflection mingled with dawning interest, "I ance kent a terrible rascal cam frae owerby that gait: what ca' they the perris ye're frae?"

Cosmo told him.

"Lord bless me!" cried the old man, and came close up to him."But na!" he resumed, and stepped a pace back, "somebody's been tellin ye!"

Cosmo gave him no answer. He stood a moment expecting one, then broke out in a rage.

"What for mak ye nae answer whan a body speirs ye a queston? That wasna mainners whan I was a bairn. Lord! ye micht as weel be ceevil! Isna it easy eneuch to lee?"

"I would answer no man who was not prepared to believe me," said Cosmo quietly.

The dignity of his English had far more effect on the man than the friendliness of their mother-tongue.

"Maybe ye wadna objec' to mak mention by name o' the toon nearest to ye whan ye was at hame?" said the old man, and from his altered manner and tone Cosmo felt he might reply.

"It was ca'd Muir o' Warlock," he answered.

"Lord, man! come into the hoose. Ye maun be sair in need o' something to put intil ye! A' the gait frae Muir o' Warlock! A toonsman o' my ain! Scotlan' 's a muckle placebut Muir o' Warlock! Guid guide's! Come in, man; come in!"

So saying he took the spade from Cosmo's hands, threw it down with a contemptuous cast, and led the way towards the house.

The old man had a heart after all! Strange the power of that comparatively poor thing, local association, to bring to light the eternal love at the root of the being! Wonderful sign also of the presence of God wherever a child may open eyes! This man's heart was not yet big enough to love a Scotsman, but it was big enough to love a Muir-o'-Warlock-man; and was not that a precious beginning? a beginning as good as any? It matters nothing where or how one begins, if only one does begin! There are many, doubtless, who have not yet got farther in love than their own family; but there are others who have learned that for the true heart there is neither Frenchman nor Englishman, neither Jew nor Greek, neither white nor blackonly the sons and daughters of God, only the brothers and sisters of the one elder brother. There may be some who have learned to love all the people of their own planet, but have not yet learned to look with patience upon those of Saturn or Mercury; while others there must be, who, wherever there is a creature of God's making, love each in its capacity for lovefrom the arch-angel before God's throne, to the creeping thing he may be compelled to destroyfrom the man of this earth to the man of some system of worlds which no human telescope has yet brought within the ken of heaven-poring sage. And to that it must come with every one of us, for not until then are we true men, true womenthe children, that is, of him in whose image we are made.

Cosmo followed very willingly, longing for water and a clothes-brush rather than for food. The cold and damp, fatigue and exposure of the night were telling upon him more than he knew, and all the time he was at work, he had been cramped by hitherto unknown pains in his limbs.

The gardener brought him to the half-ruinous wing already mentioned, to a small kitchen, opening under a great sloping buttress, and presented him to his wife, an English woman, some ten years younger than himself. She received him with a dignified retraction of the feelers, but the moment she understood his needs, ministered to them, and had some breakfast ready for him by the time he had made his toilet. He sat down by her little fire, and drank some tea, but felt shivery, and could not eat. In dread lest, if he yielded a moment to the invading sickness, it should at once overpower him, he made haste to get out again into the sun, and rejoined the old man, who had gone back to his cabbage-ground. There he pulled off his coat, and once more seized the spade, for work seemed the only way of meeting his enemy hand to hand. But the moment he began, he was too hot, and the moment he took breath he was ready to shiver. As long as he could stand, however, he would not give in.

"How many years have you been gardener here?" he asked, forcing himself to talk.

"Five an' forty year, an' I'm nearhan' tired o' 't."

"The present lord is a young man, is he not?"

"Ay; he canna be muckle ayont five an' thirty."

"What sort of a man is he?"

"Weel, it's hard to say. He's ane o' them 'at naebody says weel o', an' naebody's begud to say ill o'yet."

"There can't be much amiss with him then, surely!"'

"Weel, I wadna gang freely sae far as say that, You 'at's a man o' sense, maun weel un'erstan', gien it was only frae yer carritchis (catechism), 'at there's baith sins o' o-mission, an' sins o' co-mission. Noo, what sins o' co-mission may lie at my lord's door, I dinna ken, an' feow can ken, an' we're no to jeedge; but for the o-mission, ye hae but to see hoo he neglects that bonny sister o' his, to be far eneuch frae thinkin' a sant o' 'im."

Silence followed. Cosmo would go no farther in that direction: it would be fair neither to Lady Joan nor the gardener, who spoke as to one who knew nothing of the family.

"Noo the father," resumed his new friend, "puir man, he's deid an' damned this mony a day!an' eh, but he was an ill ane!but as to Leddy Joan, he wad hardly bide her oot o' his sicht. He cudna be jist that agreeable company to the likes o' her, puir leddy! for he was a rouch-spoken, sweirin' auld sinner as ever lived, but sic as he had he gae her, an' was said to hae been a fine gentleman in's yoong days. Some wad hae 't he cheenged a' thegither o' a suddent. An' they wad hae 't it cam o' bluid-guiltinessfor they said he had liftit the reid han' agen his neebor. An' they warnt me, lang as it was sin' I left it, no to lat 'im ken I cam frae yon pairt o' the country, or he wad be rid o' me in a jiffey, ae w'y or anither. Ay, it was a gran' name that o' Warlock i' thae pairts! though they tell me it gangs na for sae muckle noo. I hae h'ard said,'at ever sin' the auld lord here made awa' wi' the laird o' Glenwarlock, the faimily there never had ony luck. I wad like to ken what you, as a man o' sense, think o' that same. It appears to me a' some queer kin' o' justice! No' 'at I'm daurin' or wad daur to say a word agen the w'y 'at the warl's goverrnt, but there's some things 'at naebody can un'erstan'I defy them!an' yon's ane o' themwhat for, cause oor graceless auld