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

in mid swing, and turned to her. How could he resist such an appeal!

"Grizzie," he said, "I winna deny 'at ye hae vext me,"

"Ye needna; I wadna believe ye. But ye dinna ken yon man as I du, or ye wadna be sae sair angert at onything wuman cud say til 'im. Gien I was to tell ye what I ken o' 'im, ye wad be affrontit afore me, auld wife as I am. Haith, ye wadna du anither stroke for 'im!"

"It's for the siller, no for HIM, Grizzie. But gien he war as ill as ye ca' 'im, a' the same, as ye weel ken, the Lord maks his sun to rise on the evil an' on the good, an' sen's rain on the just an' on the unjust!"

"Ow ay! the Lord can afoord it!" remarked Grizzie.

"An' them 'at wad be his, maun afoord it tu, Grizzie!" returned Cosmo. "Whaur's the guid o' ca'in' ill names,'uman?"

"Ill's the trowth o' them 'at's ill. What for no set ill names to ill duers?"

"Cause a christian 's b'un' to destroy the warks o' the evil ane; an' ca'in' names raises mair o' them. The only thing 'at maks awa' wi' ill, is the man himsel' turnin' again' 't, an' that he'll never du for ill names. Ye wad never gar me repent that gait, Grizzie. Hae mercy upo' the auld sinner,'uman."

The pace at which they were making up for lost time was telling upon Grizzie, and she was silent. When she spoke again it was upon another subject.

"I cud jest throttle that grieve there!" she said. "To see 'im the nicht afore last come hame to the verra yett wi' Aggie, was enouch to anger the sanct 'at I'm no."

Jealousy sent a pang through the heart of Cosmo. Was not Aggie one of the familymore like a sister to him than any other could ever be? The thought of her and a man like Crawford was unendurable.

"She cudna weel help hersel'," he rejoined; "an' whaur's the maitter, sae lang as she has naething to say til 'im?"

"An' wha kens hoo lang that may be?" returned Grizzie. "The hert o' a wuman's no deceitfu' as the Buik says o' a man 's, an' sae 's a heap the easier deceivt. The chield's no ill-luikin'! an' I s' warran' he's no sae rouch wi' a yoong lass as wi' an auld wife."

"Grizzie, ye wadna mint 'at oor Aggie's ane to be ta'en wi' the luiks o' a man!"

"What for nowhan it's a' the man has! A wuman's hert's that saft, whiles,'at she'll jist tak 'im, no to be sair upon 'im. I wadna warran' ony lass! Gien the fallow cairry a fair face, she'll sweir her conscience doon he maun hae a guid hert."

Thus Grizzie turned the tables upon Cosmo, and sheltered herself behind them. Scarcely a word did he speak the rest of the morning.

At noon, when toil gladly made way for dinner, they all sat down among the stooks to eat and drinkall except Grizzie, who, appropriating an oatcake the food she and Aggie had a right to between them, carried it home, and laid the greater part aside. Cosmo ate and drank with the rest of the labourers, and enjoyed the homely repast as much as any of them. By the time the meal was over, Aggie had arrived to take Grizzie's place.

It was a sultry afternoon; and what with the heat and the annoyance of the morning from Grizzie's tongue and her talk concerning Agnes, the scythe hung heavy in Cosmo's hands, nor had Aggie to work her hardest to keep up with him. But she was careful to maintain her proper distance from him, for she knew that the least suspicion of relaxing effort would set him off like a thrashing machine. He led the field, nevertheless, at fair speed; his fellow labourers were content; and the bailiff made no remark. But he was so silent, and prolonged silence was so unusual between them, that Aggie was disquieted.

"Are ye no weel, Cosmo?" she asked.

"Weel eneuch, Aggie," he answered. "What gars ye speir?"

"Ye're haudin' yer tongue sae sair.And," she added, for she caught sight of the bailiff approaching, "ye hae lost the last inch or twa o' yer stroke."

"I'll tell ye a' aboot it as we gang hame," he answered, swinging his scythe in the arc of a larger circle.

The bailiff came up.

"Dinna warstle yersel' to death, Aggie," he said.

"I maun haud up wi' my man," she replied.

"He's a het man at the scytheower het! He'll be fit for naething or the week be oot. He canna haud on at this rate!"

"Ay can hefine that! Ye dinna ken oor yoong laird. He's worth twa ordinar' men. An' gien ye dinna think me fit to gather til' 'im, I s' lat ye see ye're mistaen, Mr. Crawford."

And Aggie went on gathering faster and faster.

"Hoots!" said the bailiff, going up to her, and laying his hand on her shoulder, "I ken weel ye hae the spunk to work till ye drap. But there's na occasion the noo. Sit ye doon an' tak yer breath ameenutehere i' the shaidow o' this stook. Whan Glenwarlock's at the tither en', we'll set tu thegither an' be up wi' him afore he's had time to put a fresh edge on's scythe. Come, Aggie! I hae lang been thinkin' lang to hae a word wi' ye. Ye left me or I kent whaur I was the ither nicht."

"My time's no my ain," answered Aggie.

"Whause is 't than?"

"While's it's the laird's, an' while's it's my father's, an' noo it's his lordship's."

"It's yer ain sae lang's I'm at the heid o' 's lordship's affairs."

"Na; that canna be. He's boucht my time, an' he'll pey me for 't, an' he s' hae his ain."

"Ye needna consider 'im mair nor rizzon: he's been nae freen' to you or yours."

"What's that to the p'int?"

"A' thing to the p'intwi' me here to haud it richt atween ye."

"Ca' ye that haudin' o' 't richt, to temp' me to wrang 'im?" said Aggie, going steadily on at her gathering, while the grieve kept following her step by step.

"Ye're unco short wi' a body, Aggie!"

"I weel may be, whan a body wad hae me neglec' my paid wark."

"Weel, I reckon ye're i' the richt o' 't efter a', sae I'll jist fa' tu, an' len' ye a han'."

He had so far hindered her that Cosmo had gained a little; and now in pretending to help, he contrived to hinder her yet more. Still she kept near enough to Cosmo to prevent the grieve from saying much, and by and by he left her.

When they dropped work for the night, he would have accompanied her home, but she never left Cosmo's side, and they went away together.

"Aggie," said Cosmo, as soon as there was no one within hearing, "I dinna like that chield hingin' aboot yeglowerin' at ye as gien he wad ate ye."

"He winna du that, Cosmo; he's ceevil eneuch."

"Ye sud hae seen sae rouch as he was to Grizzie!"

"Grizzie's some rouch hersel' whiles," remarked Aggie quietly.

"That's ower true," assented Cosmo; "but a man sud never behave like that til a wuman."

"Say that to the man," rejoined Aggie. "The wuman can haud aff o' hersel'."

"Grizzie, I grant ye,'s mair nor a match for ony man; but ye're no sae lang i' the tongue, Aggie."

"Think ye a lang tongue 's a lass's safety, Cosmo? I wad awe nane til 't! But what's ta'en ye the nicht,'at ye speyk to me sae? I ken no occasion."

"Aggie, I wadna willinl'y say a word to vex ye," answered Cosmo; "but I hae notit an h'ard 'at the best 'o wuman whiles tak oonaccootable fancies to men no fit to haud a can'le to them."

Aggie turned her head aside.

"I wad ill like you, for instance, to be drawn to yon Crawford," he went on. "It's eneuch to me 'at he's been lang the factotum o' an ill man."

A slight convulsive movement passed across Aggie's face, leaving behind it a shadow of hurtless resentment, yielding presently to a curious smile.

"I micht mak a better man o' 'im," she said, and again looked away.

"They a' think that, I'm thinkin'!" returned Cosmo with a sad bitterness. "An' sae they wull, to the warl's en'.But, Aggie," he added, after a pause, "ye ken ye're no to be oonaiqually yokit."

"That's what I hae to heed, I ken," murmured Aggie. "But what do ye un'erstan' by 't, Cosmo? There's nae 'worshippers o' idols the noo, as i' the days whan the apostle said that."

"There's idols visible, an' idols invisible," answered Cosmo. "There's heaps o' idols amo' them 'at ca's themsel's an' 's coontit christians. Gien a man set himsel' to lay by siller, he's the worshipper o' as oogly an idol as gien he said his prayers to the fish-tailt god o' the Philistines."

"Weel I wat that!" returned Agnes, and a silence followed.

"You an' me's aye been true til ane anither, Aggie," resumed Cosmo at length, "an' I wad fain hae a promise frae yejist to content me."

"What aboot, Cosmo?"

"Promise, an' I'll tell ye, as the bairnies say."

"But we're no bairnies, Cosmo, an' I daurnaeven to you 'at I wad trust like the Bible. Tell me what it is, an' gien I may, I wull."

"It's no muckle atween you an' me, Aggie. It's only this'at gien ever ye fa' in love wi' onybody, ye'll let me ken."

Agnes was silent for a moment; then, with a tremble in her voice, which in vain she sought to smooth out, and again turning her head away, answered:

"Cosmo, I daurna."

"I want naething mair," said Cosmo, thinking she must have misapprehended, "nor the promise 'at what ye ken I sail ken. I wad fain be wi' ye at sic a time."

"Cosmo," said. Aggie with much solemnity, "there's ane at's aye at han', ane that sticketh closer nor a brither. The thing ye require o' me, micht be what a lass could tell to nane but the father o' herhim 'at 's in haiven."

Cosmo was silenced, as indeed it was time and reason he should be; for had she been his daughter, he would have had no right to make such a request of her. He did it in all innocence, and might well have asked her to tell him, but not to promise to tell him. He did not yet understand however that he was wrong, and was the more troubled about her, feeling as if, for the first time in their lives, Aggie and he had begun to be divided.

They entered the kitchen. Aggie hastened to help Grizzie lay the cloth for supper. Her grandfather looked up with a smile from the newspaper he was reading in the window. The laird, who had an old book in his hand, called out,

"Here, Cosmo! jist hearken to this bit o' wisdom, my manfrae a hert doobtless praisin' God this mony a day in higher warl's:'He that would always know before he trusts, who would have from his God a promise before he will expect, is the slayer of his own eternity.'"

The words mingled strangely with what had just passed