diff options
Diffstat (limited to '31835.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 31835.txt | 7062 |
1 files changed, 7062 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/31835.txt b/31835.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdcb409 --- /dev/null +++ b/31835.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7062 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Prisoners of Conscience, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Prisoners of Conscience + +Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +Release Date: March 31, 2010 [EBook #31835] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE *** + + + + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE + + + + +[Illustration: "HE REPEATED ALL THE BLESSED WORDS." (_See p. +230._)] + + + + + PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE + + By + Amelia E. Barr + + New York + The Century Co. + 1897 + + + + + Copyright, 1896, 1897, by + The Century Co. + + The De Vinne Press. + + + + +CONTENTS + +BOOK FIRST--LIOT BORSON + + PAGE + + I. The Weaving of Doom 3 + + II. Jealousy Cruel as the Grave 23 + + III. A Sentence for Life 44 + + IV. The Door Wide Open 62 + +BOOK SECOND--DAVID BORSON + + V. A New Life 85 + + VI. Kindred--the Quick and the Dead 107 + + VII. So Far and No Farther 127 + + VIII. The Justification of Death 144 + + IX. A Sacrifice Accepted 169 + + X. In the Fourth Watch 192 + + XI. The Lowest Hell 210 + + XII. "At Last it is Peace" 220 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "He Repeated all the Blessed Words" _Frontispiece_ + + A Lerwick Man 33 + + "The Waters of the Great Deep" 55 + + "'I Want to Find my Father's People'" 91 + + Nanna and Vala 103 + + "But she Held her Peace" 133 + + At the Kirk 137 + + Peat-gatherers 161 + + Groat 193 + + On the Way to Nanna's Cottage 223 + + "Went in and out among his Mates" 237 + + + + +PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE + + + + +Book First + + +LIOT BORSON + + + + +BOOK FIRST + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + I. The Weaving of Doom 3 + + II. Jealousy Cruel as the Grave 23 + + III. A Sentence for Life 44 + + IV. The Door Wide Open 62 + + + + +PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE + + + + +I + +THE WEAVING OF DOOM + + +In the early part of this century there lived at Lerwick, in the +Shetland Islands, a man called Liot Borson. He was no ignoble man; +through sea-fishers and sea-fighters he counted his forefathers +in an unbroken line back to the great Norwegian Bor, while his +own life was full of perilous labor and he was off to sea every day +that a boat could swim. Liot was the outcome of the most vivid and +masterful form of paganism and the most vital and uncompromising +form of Christianity. For nearly eight hundred years the Borsons had +been christened, but who can deliver a man from his ancestors? Bor +still spoke to his son through the stirring stories of the sagas, and +Liot knew the lives of Thord and Odd, of Gisli and the banded men, +and the tremendous drama of Nial and his sons, just as well as he +knew the histories of the prophets and heroes of his Old Testament. +It is true that he held the former with a kind of reservation, and +that he gave to the latter a devout and passionate faith, but this +faith was not always potential. There were hours in Liot's life when +he was still a pagan, when he approved the swift, personal vengeance +which Odin enjoined and Christ forbade--hours in which he felt +himself to be the son of the man who had carried his gods and his +home to uninhabited Iceland rather than take cross-marking for +the meek and lowly Jesus. + +In his youth--before his great sorrow came to him--he had but little +trouble from this subcharacter. Of all the men in Lerwick, he knew +best the king stories and the tellings-up of the ancients; and when +the boats with bare spars rocked idly on the summer seas waiting +for the shoal, or the men and women were gathered together to pass +the long winter nights, Liot was eagerly sought after. Then, as the +women knit and the men sat with their hands clasped upon their +heads, Liot stood in their midst and told of the wayfarings and +doings of the Borsons, who had been in the Varangian Guard, and +sometimes of the sad doom of his fore-elder Gisli, who had been +cursed even before he was born. + +He did not often speak of Gisli; for the man ruled him across the +gulf of centuries, and he was always unhappy when he gave way to +the temptation to do so; for he could not get rid of the sense of +kinship with him, nor of the memory of that withering spaedom with +which the first Gisli had been cursed by the wronged thrall who slew +him--"_This is but the beginning of the ill luck which I will bring +on thy kith and kin after thee._" + +Never had he felt the brooding gloom of this wretched heirship so +vividly as on the night when he first met Karen Sabiston. Karen lived +with her aunt Matilda Sabiston, the richest woman in Lerwick and +the chief pillar of the kirk and its societies. On that night the +best knitters in Lerwick were gathered at her house, knitting the +fine, lace-like shawls which were to be sold at the next foy for some +good cause which the minister should approve. They were weary of +their own talk, and longing for Liot to come and tell them a story. +And some of the young girls whispered to Karen, "When Liot Borson +opens the door, then you will see the handsomest man in the islands." + +"I have seen fine men in Yell and Unst," answered Karen; "I think +I shall see no handsomer ones in Lerwick. Is he fair or dark?" + +"He is a straight-faced, bright-faced man, tall and strong, who +can tell a story so that you will be carried off your feet and away +wherever he chooses to take you." + +"I have done always as Karen Sabiston was minded to do; and now I +will not be moved this way or that way as some one else minds." + +"As to that we shall see." And as Thora Glumm spoke Liot came into +the room. + +"The wind is blowing dead on shore, and the sea is like a man gone +out of his wits," he said. + +And Matilda answered, "Well, then, Liot, come to the fire." And as +they went toward the fire she stopped before a lovely girl and said, +"Look, now, this is my niece Karen; she has just come from Yell, and +she can tell a story also; so it will be, which can better the other." + +Then Liot looked at Karen, and the girl looked up at him; in that +instant their souls remembered each other. They put their hands +together like old lovers, and if Liot had drawn her to his heart +and kissed her Karen would not have been much astonished. This sweet +reciprocity was, however, so personal that onlookers did not see it, +and so swift that Liot appeared to answer promptly enough: + +"It would be a good thing for us all if we should hear a new story. +As for me, the game is up. I can think of nothing to-night but my +poor kinsman Gisli, and he was not a lucky man, nor is it lucky to +speak of him." + +"Is it Gisli you are talking about?" asked Wolf Skegg. "Let us bring +the man among us; I like him best of all." + +"He had much sorrow," said Andrew Grimm. + +"He had a good wife," answered Gust Havard; "and not many men are +so lucky." + +"'Twas his fate," stammered a very old man, crouching over the fire, +"and in everything fate rules." + +"Well, then, Snorro, fate is justice," said Matilda; "and as well +begin, Liot, for it will be the tale of Gisli and no other--I see +that." + +Then Liot stood up, and Karen, busy with her knitting, watched +him. She saw that he had brown hair and gray eyes and the fearless +carriage of one who is at home on the North Sea. His voice at first +was frank and full of brave inflections, as he told of the noble, +faithful, helpful Gisli, pursued by evil fortune even in his dreams. +Gradually its tones became sad as the complaining of the sea, and a +brooding melancholy touched every heart as Gisli, doing all he +might do to ward off misfortune, found it of no avail. "For what +must be must be; there is no help for it," sighed Liot. "So, then, +love of wife and friends, and all that good-will dared, could not +help Gisli, for the man was doomed even before his birth." + +Then he paused, and there was a dead silence and an unmistakable +sense of expectation; and Liot's face changed, and he looked as Gisli +might have looked when he knew that he had come to his last fight +for life. Also for a moment his eyes rested on old Snorro, who was +no longer crouching over the hearth, but straight up and full of +fire and interest; and Snorro answered the look with a nod, that +meant something which all approved and understood; after which Liot +continued in a voice full of a somber passion: + +"It was the very last night of the summer, and neither Gisli nor his +true wife, Auda, could sleep. Gisli had bad dreams full of fate if +he shut his eyes, and he knew that his life-days were nearly over. +So they left their house and went to a hiding-place among the crags, +and no sooner were they there than they heard the voice of their +enemy Eyjolf, and there were fourteen men with him. 'Come on like +men,' shouted Gisli, 'for I am not going to fare farther away.'" + +Then old Snorro raised himself and answered Liot in the very words +of Eyjolf: + +"'Lay down the good arms thou bearest, and give up also Auda, thy +wife.'" + +"'Come and take them like a man, for neither the arms I bear nor the +wife I love are fit for any one else!'" cried Liot, in reply. And +this challenge and valiant answer, though fully expected, charged the +crowded room with enthusiasm. The women let their knitting fall and +sat with parted lips and shining eyes, and the men looked at Liot +as men look whose hands are on their weapons. + +"So," continued Liot, "the men made for the crags; but Gisli fought +like a hero, and in that bout four men were slain. And when they +were least aware Gisli leaped on a crag, that stands alone there +and is called Oneman's Crag, and there he turned at bay and called +out to Eyjolf, 'I wish to make those three hundred in silver, which +thou hast taken as the price of my head, as dear bought as I can; +and before we part thou wouldst give other three hundred in silver +that we had never met; for thou wilt only take disgrace for loss of +life.' Then their onslaught was harder and hotter, and they gave +Gisli many spear-thrusts; but he fought on wondrously, and there was +not one of them without a wound who came nigh him. At last, full of +great hurts, Gisli bade them wait awhile and they should have the +end they wanted; for he would have time to sing this last song to his +faithful Auda: + + 'Wife, so fair, so never-failing, + So truly loved, so sorely cross'd, + Thou wilt often miss me, wailing; + Thou wilt weep thy hero lost. + But my heart is stout as ever; + Swords may bite, I feel no smart; + Father! better heirloom never + Owned thy son than fearless heart.' + +And with these words he rushed down from the crag and clove +Thord--who was Eyjolf's kinsman--to the very belt. There Gisli lost +his life with many great and sore wounds. He never turned his heel, +and none of them saw that his strokes were lighter, the last than +the first. They buried him by the sea, and at his grave the sixth +man breathed his last; and on the same night the seventh man +breathed his last; and an eighth lay bedridden for twelve months +and died. And though the rest were healed, they got nothing but +shame for their pains. Thus Gisli came to his grave; and it has +always been said, by one and all, that there never was a more famous +defense made by one man in any time, of which the truth is known; +but he was not lucky in anything." + +"I will doubt that," said Gust Havard. "He had Auda to wife, and +never was there a woman more beautiful and loving and faithful. He +had love-luck, if he had no other luck. God give us all such wives +as Auda!" + +"Well, then," answered Matilda, "a man's fate is his wife, and she +is of his own choosing; and, what is more, a good husband makes a +good wife." Then, suddenly stopping, she listened a moment and added: +"The minister is come, and we shall hear from him still better words. +But sit down, Liot; you have passed the hour well, as you always do." + +The minister came in with a smile, and he was placed in the best +chair and made many times welcome. It was evident in a moment that +he had brought a different spirit with him; the old world vanished +away, and the men and women that a few minutes before had been so +close to it suffered a transformation. As the minister entered +the room they became in a moment members of the straitest Christian +kirk--quiet, hard-working fishers, and douce, home-keeping women. He +said the night was bad and black, and spoke of the boats and the +fishers in them. And the men talked solemnly about the "takes" and +the kirk meetings, while some of the women knitted and listened, +and others helped Matilda and Karen to set the table with goose and +fish, and barley and oaten cakes, and the hot, sweet tea which +is the Shetlander's favorite drink. + +Many meals in a lifetime people eat, and few are remembered; but +when they are "eventful," how sweet or bitter is that bread-breaking! +This night Liot's cake and fish and cup of tea were as angels' +food. Karen broke her cake with him, and she sweetened his cup, +and smiled at him and talked to him as he ate and drank with her. +And when at last they stood up for the song and thanksgiving he held +her hand in his, and their voices blended in the noble sea psalm, so +dear to every seafarer's heart: + + "The floods, O Lord, have lifted up, + They lifted up their voice! + The floods have lifted up their waves + And made a mighty noise. + + "But yet the Lord, that is on high, + Is more of might by far + Than noise of many waters is, + Or great sea-billows are." + +Soft and loud the singing swelled, and the short thanksgiving +followed it. To bend his head and hold Karen's hand while the +blessing fell on his ears was heaven on earth to Liot; such happiness +he had never known before--never even dreamed of. He walked home +through the buffeting wind and the drenching rain, and felt neither; +for he was saying over and over to himself, "I have found my wife! +I have found my wife!" + +Karen had the same prepossession. As she unbound her long, fair +hair she thought of Liot. Slowly unplaiting strand from strand, she +murmured to her heart as she did so: + +"Such a man as Liot Borson I have never met before. It was easy to +see that he loved me as soon as he looked at me; well, then, Liot +Borson shall be my husband--Liot, and only Liot, will I marry." + +It was at the beginning of winter that this took place, and it was +a kind of new birth to Liot. Hitherto he had been a silent man about +his work; he now began to talk and to sing, and even to whistle; +and, as every one knows, whistling is the most cheerful sound that +comes from human lips. People wondered a little and said, "It is +Karen Sabiston, and it is a good thing." Also, the doubts and fears +that usually trouble the beginnings of love were absent in this +case. Wherever Liot and Karen had learned each other, the lesson had +been perfected. At their third meeting he asked her to be his wife, +and she answered with simple honesty, "That is my desire." + +This betrothal was, however, far from satisfactory to Karen's aunt; +she could bring up nothing against Liot, but she was ill pleased with +Karen. "You have some beauty," she said, "and you have one hundred +pounds of your own; and it was to be expected that you would look +to better yourself a little." + +"Have I not done so? Liot is the best of men." + +"And the best of men are but men at best. It is not of Liot I think, +but of Liot's money; he is but poor, and you know little of him. +Those before us have said wisely, 'Ere you run in double harness, +look well to the other horse.'" + +"My heart tells me that I have done right, aunt." + +"Your heart cannot foretell, but you might have sense enough to +forethink; and it is sure that I little dreamed of this when I +brought you here from the naked gloom of Yell." + +"It is true your word brought me here, but I think it was Liot who +called me by you." + +"It was not. When my tongue speaks for any Borson, I wish that +it may speak no more! I like none of them. Liot is good at need on +a winter's night; but even so, all his stories are of dool and +wrong-doing and bloody vengeance. From his own words it is seen that +the Borsons have ever been well-hated men. Now, I have forty years +more of this life than you have, and I tell you plainly I think +little of your choice; whatever sorrow comes of it, mind this: I +didn't give you leave to make it." + +"Nor did I ask your leave, aunt; each heart knows its own; but you +have a way to throw cold water upon every hope." + +"There are hopes I wish at the bottom of the sea. To be sure, when +ill is fated some one must speak the words that bring it about; +but I wish it had been any other but myself who wrote, 'Come to +Lerwick'; for I little thought I was writing, 'Come to Liot Borson.' +As every one knows, he is the son of unlucky folk; from father to +son nothing goes well with them." + +"I will put my luck to his, and you will learn to think better of +Liot for my sake, aunt." + +"Not while my life-days last! That is a naked say, and there's no +more to it." + +Matilda's dislike, however, did not seriously interfere with Liot's +and Karen's happiness. It was more passive than active; it was more +virulent when he was absent than when he was present; and all winter +she suffered him to visit at her house. These visits had various +fortunes, but, good or bad, the season wore away with them; and as +soon as April came Liot began to build his house. Matilda scoffed +at his hurry. "Does he think," she cried, "that he can marry Karen +Sabiston when he lists to? Till you are twenty-one you are in my +charge, and I will take care to prevent such folly as long as I can." + +"Well, then, aunt, I shall be of age and my own mistress next +Christmas, and on Uphellya night[1] I will be married to Liot." + +"After that we shall have nothing to say to each other." + +"It will not be my fault." + +"It will be my will. However, if you are in love with ill luck and +fated for Liot Borson, you must dree your destiny; and Liot does well +to build his home, for he shall not wive himself out of my walls." + +"It will be more shame to you than to me, aunt, if I am not married +from your house; also, people will speak evil of you." + +"That is to be expected; but I will not be so ill to myself as to +make a feast for a man I hate. However, there are eight months before +Uphellya, and many chances and changes may come in eight months." + +The words were a prophecy. As Matilda uttered them Thora Fay entered +the room, all aglow with excitement. "There is a new ship in the +harbor!" she cried. "She is called the _Frigate Bird_, and she has +silk and linen and gold ornaments for sale, besides tea and coffee +and the finest of spirits. As for the captain, he is as handsome as +can be, and my brother thinks him a man of some account." + +"You bring good news, Thora," said Matilda. "I would gladly see the +best of whatever is for sale, and I wish your brother to let so much +come to the man's ears." + +"I will look to that," answered Thora. "Every one knows there is +to be a wedding in your house very soon." And with these words she +nodded at Karen, and went smiling away with her message. + +A few hours afterward Captain Bele Trenby of the _Frigate Bird_ +stepped across Matilda Sabiston's threshold. It was the first step +toward his death-place, though he knew it not; he took it with a +laugh and a saucy compliment to the pretty servant who opened the +door for him, and with the air of one accustomed to being welcome +went into Matilda Sabiston's presence. He delighted the proud, +wilful old woman as soon as she saw him; his black eyes and curling +black hair, the dare-devil look on his face, and the fearless dash +of his manner reminded her of Paul Sabiston, the husband of her +youth. She opened her heart and her purse to the bold free-trader; +she made him eat and drink, and with a singular imprudence told him +of secret ways in and out of the voes, and of hiding-places in +the coast caverns that had been known to her husband. And as she +talked she grew handsome; so much so that Karen let her knitting +fall to watch her aunt's face as she described Paul Sabiston's +swift cutter--"a mass of snowy canvas, stealing in and out of the +harbor like a cloud." + +The coming of this man was the beginning of sorrow. In a few days +he understood the situation, and he resolved to marry Karen Sabiston. +Her fair, stately beauty charmed him, and he had no doubt she +would inherit her aunt's wealth; that she was cold and shy only +stimulated his love, and as for Liot, he held his pretensions in +contempt. All summer he sailed between Holland and Shetland, and +the Lerwick people gave him good trade and good welcome. With +Matilda Sabiston he had his own way; she did whatever he wished +her to do. Only at Karen her power stopped short; neither promises +nor threats would induce the girl to accept Bele as her lover; and +Matilda, accustomed to drive her will through the teeth of every +one, was angry morning, noon, and night with her disobedient niece. + +As the months wore on Liot's position became more and more painful +and humiliating, and he had hard work to keep his hands off Bele +when they met on the pier or in the narrow streets of the town. His +smile, his voice, his face, his showy dress and hectoring manner, +all fed in Liot's heart that bitter hatred which springs from a +sense of being personally held in contempt; he felt, also, that +even among his fellow-townsmen he was belittled and injured by +this plausible, handsome stranger. For Bele said very much what it +pleased him to say, covering his insolences with a laugh and with +a jovial, jocular air, that made resentment seem ridiculous. Bele +was also a gift-giver, and for every woman, old or young, he had a +compliment or a ribbon. + +If Liot had been less human, if he had come from a more mixed race, +if his feelings had been educated down and toned to the level of +modern culture, he could possibly have looked forward to Uphellya +night, and found in the joy and triumph that Karen would then give +him a sufficient set-off to all Bele's injuries and impertinences. +But he was not made thus; his very blood came to him through the +hearts of vikings and berserkers, and as long as one drop of this +fierce stream remained in his veins, moments were sure to come in +the which it would render all the tide of life insurgent. + +It is true Liot was a Christian and a good man; but it must be noted, +in order to do him full justice, that the form of Christianity +which was finally and passionately accepted by his race was that +of ultra-Calvinism; it spoke to their inherited tendencies as no +other creed could have done. This uncompromising theology, with its +God of vengeance and inflexible justice, was understood by men +who considered a blood-feud of centuries a duty never to be +neglected; and as for the doctrine of a special election, with +all its tremendous possibilities of damnation, they were not +disposed to object to it. Indeed, they were such good haters that +Tophet and everlasting enmity were the bane and doom they would have +unhesitatingly chosen for their enemies. This grim theology Liot +sucked in with his mother's milk, and both by inheritance and by a +strong personal faith he was a child of God after the order of John +Calvin. + +Therefore he constantly brought his enemy to the ultimate and +immutable tribunal of his faith, and just as constantly condemned +him there. Nothing was surer in Liot's mind than that Bele Trenby +was the child of the Evil One and an inheritor of the kingdom of +wrath; for Bele did the works of his father every day, and every +hour of the day, and Liot told himself that it was impossible +there should be any fellowship between them. To Bele he said nothing +of this spiritual superiority, and yet it was obvious in his constant +air of disapproval and dissent, in his lofty silence, his way of +not being conscious of Bele's presence or of totally ignoring his +remarks. + +"Liot Borson mocks the very heart of me," said Bele to Matilda one +day, as he gloomily flung himself into the big chair she pushed +toward him. + +"What said he, Bele?" + +"Not a word with his tongue, or I had struck him in the face; but +as I was telling about my last cargo and the run for it, his eyes +called me '_Liar! liar! liar!_' like blow on blow. And when he turned +and walked off the pier some were quiet, and some followed him; and +I could have slain every man's son of them, one on the heels of the +other." + +"That is vain babble, Bele; and I would leave Liot alone. He has more +shapes than one, and he is ill to anger in any of them." + +Bele was not averse to be so counseled. In spite of his bravado +and risky ventures, he was no more a brave man than a dishonorable +or dishonest man ever is. He knew that if it came to fighting he +would be like a child in Liot's big hands, and he had already seen +Liot's scornful silence strip his boasting naked. So he contented +himself with the revenge of the coward--the shrug and the innuendo, +the straight up-and-down lie, when Liot was absent; the sulky nod +or bantering remark, according to his humor, when Liot was present. + +However, as the weeks went on Liot became accustomed to the +struggle, and more able to take possession of such aids to mastery +of himself as were his own. First, there was Karen; her loyalty +never wavered. If Liot knew anything surely, it was that at +Christmas she would become his wife. She met him whenever she could, +she sent him constantly tokens of her love, and she begged him at +every opportunity for her sake to let Bele Trenby alone. Every +day, also, his cousin Paul Borson spoke to him and praised him +for his forbearance; and every Sabbath the minister asked, "How goes +it, Liot? Is His grace yet sufficient?" And at these questions +Liot's countenance would glow as he answered gladly, "So far He +has helped me." + +From this catechism, and the clasp and look that gave it living +sympathy, Liot always turned homeward full of such strength that +he longed to meet his enemy on the road, just that he might show +him that "noble not caring," which was gall and wormwood to Bele's +touchy self-conceit. It was a great spiritual weakness, and one +which Liot was not likely to combat; for prayer was so vital a thing +to him that it became imbued with all his personal characteristics. +He made petition that God would keep him from hurting Bele Trenby, +and yet in his heart he was afraid that God would hear and grant his +prayer. The pagan in Liot was not dead; and the same fight between +the old man and the new man that made Paul's life a constant warfare +found a fresh battle-ground in Liot's soul. + +He began his devotions in the spirit of Christ, but they ended +always in a passionate arraignment of Bele Trenby through the psalms +of David. These wondrously human measures got Liot's heart in their +grip; he wept them and prayed them and lived them until their words +blended with all his thoughts and speech; through them he grew +"familiar" with God, as Job and David and Jonah were familiar--a +reverent familiarity. Liot ventured to tell Him all that he had to +suffer from Bele--the lies that he could not refute, the insolences +he could not return, his restricted intercourse with Karen, and the +loss of that frank fellowship with such of his townsmen as had +business reasons for not quarreling with Bele. + +So matters went on, and the feeling grew no better, but worse, +between the men. When the devil could not find a man to irritate +Bele and Liot, then he found Matilda Sabiston always ready to speak +for him. She twitted Bele with his prudences, and if she met Liot on +the street she complimented him on his patience, and prophesied +for Karen a "lowly mannered husband, whom she could put under her +feet." + +One day in October affairs all round were at their utmost strain. +The summer was over, and Bele was not likely to make the Shetland +coast often till after March. His talk was of the French and Dutch +ports and their many attractions. And Matilda was cross at the +prospect of losing her favorite's society, and unjustly inclined to +blame Bele for his want of success with her niece. + +"Talk if you want to, Bele," she said snappishly, "of the pretty +women in France and Holland. You are, after all, a great dreamer, and +you don't dream true; the fisherman Liot can win where you lose." + +Then Bele said some words about Liot, and Matilda laughed. Bele +thought the laugh full of scorn; so he got up and left the house +in a passion, and Matilda immediately turned on Karen. + +"Ill luck came with you, girl," she cried, "and I wish that Christmas +was here and that you were out of my house." + +"No need to wait till Christmas, aunt; I will go away now and never +come back." + +"I shall be glad of that." + +"Paul Borson will give me shelter until I move into my own house." + +"Then we shall be far apart. I shall not be sorry, for our chimneys +may smoke the better for it." + +"That is an unkind thing to say." + +"It is as you take it." + +"I wonder what people will think of you, aunt?" + +"I wonder that, too--but I care nothing." + +"I see that talk will come to little, and that we had better part." + +"If you will marry Bele we need not part; then I will be good to you." + +"I will not marry Bele--no, not for the round world." + +"Then, what I have to say is this, and I say it out: go to the +Borsons as soon as you can; there is doubtless soul-kin between you +and them, and I want no Borson near me, in the body or out of the +body." + +So that afternoon Karen went to live with Paul Borson, and there was +great talk about it. No sooner had Liot put his foot ashore than +he heard the story, and at once he set it bitterly down against Bele; +for his sake Karen had been driven from her home. There were those +that said it was Bele's plan, since she would not marry him, to +separate her from her aunt; he was at least determined not to +lose what money and property Matilda Sabiston had to leave. These +accusations were not without effect. Liot believed his rival capable +of any meanness. But it was not the question of money that at +this hour angered him; it was Karen's tears; it was Karen's sense of +shame in being sent from the home of her only relative, and the +certain knowledge that the story would be in every one's mouth. +These things roused in Liot's soul hatred implacable and unmerciful +and thirsty for the stream of life. + +Yet he kept himself well in hand, saying little to Karen but those +things usually whispered to beloved women who are weeping, and at the +end of them this entreaty: + +"Listen, dear heart of mine! I will see the minister, and he will +call our names in the kirk next Sunday, and the next day we shall be +married, and then there will be an end to this trouble. I say nothing +of Matilda Sabiston, but Bele Trenby stirs up bickerings all day +long; he is a low, quarrelsome fellow, a very son of Satan, walking +about the world tempting good men to sin." + +And Karen answered: "Life is full of waesomeness. I have always +heard that when the heart learns to love it learns to sorrow; yet for +all this, and more too, I will be your wife, Liot, on the day you +wish, for then if sorrow comes we two together can well bear it." + +------ +[Footnote 1: The last day of Christmas-tide.] + + + + +II + +JEALOUSY CRUEL AS THE GRAVE + + +After this event all Lerwick knew that Karen Sabiston was to be +married to Liot Borson in less than three weeks. For the minister +was unwilling to shorten the usual time for the kirk calling, and +Karen, on reflection, had also come to the conclusion that it was +best not to hurry too much. "Everything ought to bide its time, +Liot," she said, "and the minister wishes the three askings to be +honored; also, as the days go by, my aunt may think better and do +better than she is now minded to." + +"If I had my way, Karen--" + +"But just now, Liot, it is my way." + +"Yours and the minister's." + +"Then it is like to be good." + +"Well, let it stand at three weeks; but I wish that the time had not +been put off; ill luck comes to a changed wedding-day." + +"Why do you forespeak misfortune, Liot? It is a bad thing to do. Far +better if you went to the house-builder and told him to hire more +help and get the roof-tree on; then we need not ask shelter either +from kin or kind." + +It was a prudent thought, and Liot acknowledged its wisdom and said +he would "there and then go about it." The day was nearly spent, but +the moon was at its full, and the way across the moor was as well +known to him as the space of his own boat. He kissed Karen fondly, +and promised to return in two or three hours at the most; and she +watched his tall form swing into the shadows and become part and +parcel of the gray indistinctness which shut in the horizon. + +There was really no road to the little hamlet where the builder +lived. The people used the sea road, and thought it good enough; but +the rising moon showed a foot-path, like a pale, narrow ribbon, +winding through the peat-cuttings and skirting the still, black moss +waters. But in this locality Liot had cut many a load of peat, and +he knew the bottomless streams of the heath as well as he knew the +"races" of the coast; so he strode rapidly forward on his pleasant +errand. + +The builder, who was also a fisherman, had just come from the sea; +and as he ate his evening meal he talked with Liot about the new +house, and promised him to get help enough to finish it within a +month. This business occupied about an hour, and as soon as it was +over Liot lit his pipe and took the way homeward. He had scarcely +left the sea-shore when he saw a man before him, walking very slowly +and irresolutely; and Liot said to himself, "He steps like one who +is not sure of his way." With the thought he called out, "_Take +care!_" and hastened forward; and the man stood still and waited for +him. + +In a few minutes Liot also wished to stand still; for the moon came +from behind a cloud and showed him plainly that the wayfarer was Bele +Trenby. The recognition was mutual, but for once Bele was disposed +to be conciliating. He was afraid to turn back and equally afraid to +go forward; twice already the moonlight had deceived him, and he +had nearly stepped into the water; so he thought it worth his while +to say: + +"Good evening, Liot; I am glad you came this road; it is a bad one--a +devilish bad one! I wish I had taken a boat. I shall miss the tide, +and I was looking to sail with it. It is an hour since I passed +Skegg's Point--a full hour, for it has been a step at a time. Now +you will let me step after you; I see you know the way." + +He spoke with a nervous rapidity, and Liot only answered: + +"Step as you wish to." + +Bele fell a couple of feet behind, but continued to talk. "I have +been round Skegg's Point," he said with a chuckling laugh. "I wanted +to see Auda Brent before I went away for the winter. Lovely woman! +Brent is a lucky fellow--" + +"Brent is my friend," answered Liot, angrily. But Bele did not notice +the tone, and he continued: + +"I would rather have Auda for a friend." And then, in his usual +insinuating, boastful way, he praised the woman's beauty and +graciousness in words which had an indefinable offense, and yet +one quite capable of that laughing denial which commonly shielded +Bele's impertinence. "Brent gave me a piece of Saxony cloth and a +gold brooch for her--Brent is in Amsterdam. I have taken the +cloth four times; there were also other gifts--but I will say +nothing of them." + +"You are inventing lies, Bele Trenby. Touch your tongue, and your +fingers will come out of your lips black as the pit. Say to Brent +what you have said to me. You dare not, you infernal coward!" + +"You have a pretty list of bad words, Liot, and I won't try to change +mine with them." + +Liot did not answer. He turned and looked at the man behind him, +and the devil entered into his heart and whispered, "_There is the +venn before you._" The words were audible to him; they set his +heart on fire and made his blood rush into his face, and beat on his +ear-drums like thunder. He could scarcely stand. A fierce joy ran +through his veins, and the fiery radiations of his life colored +the air around him; he saw everything red. The venn, a narrow morass +with only one safe crossing, was before them; in a few moments they +were on its margin. Liot suddenly stopped; the leather strings of +his _rivlins_[2] had come unfastened, and he dropped the stick he +carried in order to retie them. At this point there was a slight +elevation on the morass, and Bele looked at Liot as he put his +foot upon it, asking sharply: + +"Is this the crossing?" + +Liot fumbled at his shoe-strings and said not a word; for he knew it +was _not_ the crossing. + +"Is this the crossing, Liot?" Bele again asked. And again Liot +answered neither yes nor no. Then Bele flew into a passion and cried +out with an oath: + +"You are a cursed fellow, Liot Borson, and in the devil's own temper; +I will stay no longer with you." + +He stepped forward as he spoke, and instantly a cry, shrill with +mortal terror, rang across the moor from sea to sea. Liot quickly +raised himself, but he had barely time to distinguish the white +horror of his enemy's face and the despair of his upthrown arms. The +next moment the moss had swallowed the man, and the thick, peaty +water hardly stirred over his engulfing. + +For a little while Liot fixed his eyes on the spot; then he +lifted his stick and went forward, telling his soul in triumphant +undertones: "He has gone down quick into hell; the Lord has brought +him down into the pit of destruction; the bloody and deceitful man +shall not live out half his days; he has gone to his own place." + +Over and over he reiterated these assurances, stepping securely +himself to the ring of their doom. It was not until he saw the light +in Paul Borson's house that the chill of doubt and the sickness of +fear assailed him. How could he smile into Karen's face or clasp her +to his breast again? A candle was glimmering in the window of a +fisherman's cottage; he stepped into its light and looked at his +hands. There was no stain of blood on them, but he was angry at the +involuntary act; he felt it to be an accusation. + +Just yet he could not meet Karen. He walked to the pier, and talked +to his conscience as he did so. "I never touched the man," he urged. +"I said nothing to lead him wrong. He was full of evil; his last +words were such as slay a woman's honor. I did right not to answer +him. A hundred times I have vowed I would not turn a finger to +save his life, and God heard and knew my vow. He delivered him +into my hand; he let me see the end of the wicked. I am not to +blame! I am not to blame!" Then said an interior voice, that he +had not silenced, "Go and tell the sheriff what has happened." + +Liot turned home at this advice. Why should he speak now? Bele was +dead and buried; let his memory perish with him. He summoned from +every nook of his being all the strength of the past, the present, +and the future, and with a resolute hand lifted the latch of the +door. Karen threw down her knitting and ran to meet him; and when +he had kissed her once he felt that the worst was over. Paul asked +him about the house, and talked over his plans and probabilities, +and after an interval he said: + +"I saw Bele Trenby's ship was ready for sea at the noon hour; she +will be miles away by this time. It is a good thing, for Mistress +Sabiston may now come to reason." + +"It will make no odds to us; we shall not be the better for Bele's +absence." + +"I think differently. He is one of the worst of men, and he makes +everything grow in Matilda's eyes as he wishes to. Lerwick can well +spare him; a bad man, as every one knows." + +"A man that joys the devil. Let us not speak of him." + +"But he speaks of you." + +"His words will not slay me. Kinsman, let us go to sleep now; I am +promised to the fishing with the early tide." + +But Liot could not sleep. In vain he closed his eyes; they saw more +than he could tell. There were invisible feet in his room; the air +was heavy with presence, and full of vague, miserable visions; for +"Wickedness, condemned by her own witness, is very timorous, and, +being pressed with Conscience, always forecasteth grievous things." + +When Bele stepped into his grave there had been a bright moonlight +blending with the green, opalish light of the aurora charging to the +zenith; and in this mysterious mingled glow Liot had seen for a +moment the white, upturned face that the next moment went down with +open eyes into the bottomless water. Now, though the night had +become dark and stormy, he could not dismiss the sight, and anon +the Awful One who dwelleth in the thick darkness drew near, and for +the first time in his life Liot Borson was afraid. Then it was that +his deep and real religious life came to his help. He rose, and +stood with clasped hands in the middle of the room, and began to +plead his cause, even as Job did in the night of his terror. In +his strong, simple speech he told everything to God--told him the +wrongs that had been done him, the provocations he had endured. +His solemnly low implorations were drenched with agonizing tears, +and they only ceased when the dayspring came and drove the somber +terrors of the night before it. + +Then he took his boat and went off to sea, though the waves were +black and the wind whistling loud and shrill. He wanted the +loneliness that only the sea could give him. He felt that he +must "cry aloud" for deliverance from the great strait into which he +had fallen. No man could help him, no human sympathy come between +him and his God. Into such communions not even the angels enter. + +At sundown he came home, his boat loaded with fish, and his soul +quiet as the sea was quiet after the storm had spent itself. Karen +said he "looked as if he had seen Death"; and Paul answered: "No +wonder at that; a man in an open boat in such weather came near to +him." Others spoke of his pallor and his weariness; but no one saw +on his face that mystical self-signature of submission which comes +only through the pang of soul-travail. + +He had scarcely changed his clothing and sat down to his tea before +Paul said: "A strange thing has happened. Trenby's ship is still +in harbor. He cannot be found; no one has seen him since he left the +ship yesterday. He bade Matilda Sabiston good-by in the morning, and +in the afternoon he told his men to be ready to lift anchor when the +tide turned. The tide turned, but he came not; and they wondered +at it, but were not anxious; now, however, there is a great fear +about him." + +"What fear is there?" asked Liot. + +"Men know not; but it is uppermost in all minds that in some way his +life-days are ended." + +"Well, then, long or short, it is God who numbers our days." + +"What do you think of the matter?" asked Paul. + +"As you know, kinsman," answered Liot, "I have ever hated Bele, and +that with reason. Often I have said it were well if he were hurt, +and better if he were dead; but at this time I will say no word, good +or bad. If the man lives, I have nothing good to say of him; if he +is dead, I have nothing bad to say." + +"That is wise. Our fathers believed in and feared the fetches of +dead men; they thought them to be not far away from the living, and +able to be either good friends or bitter enemies to them." + +"I have heard that often. No saying is older than 'Bare is a man's +back without the kin behind him.'" + +"Then you are well clad, Liot, for behind you are generations of +brave and good men." + +"The Lord is at my right hand; I shall not be moved," said Liot, +solemnly. "He is sufficient. I am as one of the covenanted, for the +promise is 'to you and your children.'" + +Paul nodded gravely. He was a Calvinistic pagan, learned in the +Scriptures, inflexible in faith, yet by no means forgetful of the +potent influences of his heroic dead. Truly he trusted in the Lord, +but he was never unwilling to remember that Bor and Bor's mighty +sons stood at his back. Even though they were in the "valley of +shadows," they were near enough in a strait to divine his trouble +and be ready to help him. + +The tenor of this conversation suited both men. They pursued it in +a fitful manner and with long, thoughtful pauses until the night +was far spent; then they said, "Good sleep," with a look into each +other's eyes which held not only promise of present good-will, but a +positive "looking forward" neither cared to speak more definitely of. + +The next day there was an organized search for Bele Trenby through +the island hamlets and along the coast; but the man was not found +far or near; he had disappeared as absolutely as a stone dropped +into mid-ocean. Not until the fourth day was there any probable +clue found; then a fishing-smack came in, bringing a little rowboat +usually tied to Howard Hallgrim's rock. Hallgrim was a very old man +and had not been out of his house for a week, so that it was only +when the boat was found at sea that it was missed from its place. +It was then plain to every one that Bele had taken the boat for +some visit and met with an accident. + +So far the inference was correct. Bele's own boat being shipped ready +for the voyage, he took Hallgrim's boat when he went to see Auda +Brent; but he either tied it carelessly or he did not know the power +of the tide at that point, for when he wished to return the boat +was not there. For a few minutes he hesitated; he was well aware +that the foot-path across the moor was a dangerous one, but he was +anxious to leave Lerwick with that tide, and he risked it. + +These facts flashed across Liot's mind with the force of truth, and +he never doubted them. All, then, hung upon Auda Brent's reticence; +if she admitted that Bele had called on her that afternoon, some +one would divine the loss of the boat and the subsequent tragedy. +For several wretched days he waited to hear the words that would +point suspicion to him. They were not spoken. Auda came to Lerwick, +as usual, with her basket of eggs for sale; she talked with Paul +Borson about Bele's disappearance; and though Liot watched her +closely, he noticed neither tremor nor hesitation in her face or +voice. He thought, indeed, that she showed very little feeling of any +kind in the matter. It took him some time to reach the conclusion +that Auda was playing a part--one she thought best for her honor +and peace. + +[Illustration: A LERWICK MAN.] + +In the mean time the preparations for his marriage with Karen +Sabiston went rapidly forward. He strove to keep his mind and heart +in tune with them, but it was often hard work. Sometimes Karen +questioned him concerning his obvious depression; sometimes she +herself caught the infection of his sadness; and there were little +shadows upon their love that she could not understand. On the day +before her marriage she went to visit her aunt Matilda Sabiston. +Matilda did not deny herself, but afterward Karen wished she had +done so. Almost her first words were of Bele Trenby, for whom she +was mourning with the love of a mother for an only son. + +"What brings you into my sight?" she asked the girl. "Bele is dead +and gone, and you are living! and Liot Borson knows all about it!" + +"How dare you say such a thing, aunt?" + +"I can dare the truth, though the devil listened to it. As for +'aunt,' I am no aunt of yours." + +"I am content to be denied by you; and I will see that Liot makes +you pay dearly for the words that you have said." + +"No fear! he will not dare to challenge them! I know that." + +"You have called him a murderer!" + +"He did the deed, or he has knowledge of it. _One_ who never yet +deceived me tells me so much. Oh, if I could only bring that _one_ +into the court I would hang Liot higher than his masthead! I wish to +die only that I may follow Liot, and give him misery on misery every +one of his life-days. I would also poison his sleep and make his +dreams torture him. If there is yet one kinsman behind my back, I +will force him to dog Liot into the grave." + +"Liot is in the shelter of God's hand; he need not fear what you can +do to him. He can prove you liar far easier than you can prove him +murderer. On the last day of Bele's life Liot was at sea all day, and +there were three men with him. He spent the evening with John Twatt +and myself, and then sat until the midnight with Paul Borson." + +"For all that, he was with Bele Trenby! I know it! My heart tells +me so." + +"Your heart has often lied to you before this. I see, however, that +our talk had better come to an end once for all. I will never come +here again." + +"I shall be the happier for that. Why did you come at this time?" + +"I thought that you were in trouble about Bele. I was sorry for you. +I wished to be friends with every one before I married." + +"I want no pity; I want vengeance; and from here or _there_ I will +compass it. While my head is above the mold there is no friendship +possible between us--no, nor after it. Do you think that Bele is +out of your way because he is out of the body? He is now nearer to +you than your hands or feet. And let Liot Borson look to himself. +The old thrall's curse was evil enough, but Bele Trenby will make +it measureless." + +"Such words are like the rest of your lying; I will not fear them, +since God is himself, and he shall rule the life Liot and I will +lead together. When a girl is near her bridal every one but you will +give her a blessing. I think you have no heart; surely you never +loved any one." + +"I have loved--_yes_!" Then she stood up and cried passionately: +"Begone! I will speak no more to you--only this: ask Liot Borson +what was the ending of Bele Trenby." + +She was the incarnation of rage and accusation, and Karen almost +fled from her presence. Her first impulse was to go to Liot with the +story of the interview, but her second was a positive withdrawal of +it. It was the eve of her bridal day, and the house was already +full of strangers. Paul Borson was spending his money freely for +the wedding-feast. In the morning she was to become Liot's wife. +How could she bring contention where there should be only peace +and good-will? + +Besides, Liot had told her it was useless to visit Matilda; he +had even urged her not to do so, for all Lerwick knew how bitterly +she was lamenting the loss of her adopted son Bele; and Liot had +said plainly to Karen: "As for her good-will, there is more hope of +the dead; let her alone." As she remembered these words a cold +fear invaded Karen's heart; it turned her sick even to dismiss +it. What if Liot did know the ending of Bele! She recalled with a +reluctant shiver his altered behavior, his long silences, his gloomy +restlessness, the frequent breath of some icy separation between +them. If Matilda was right in any measure--if Liot knew! Merciful +God, if Liot had had any share in the matter! She could not face +him with such a thought in her heart. She ran down to the sea-shore, +and hid herself in a rocky shelter, and tried to think the position +down to the bottom. + +It was all a chaos of miserable suspicion, and at last she concluded +that her fear and doubt came entirely from Matilda's wicked +assertions. She would not admit that they had found in her heart a +condition ready to receive them. She said: "I will not again think +of the evil words; it is a wrong to Liot. I will not tell them to +him; he would go to Matilda, and there would be more trouble, and +the why and the wherefore spread abroad; and God knows how the +wicked thought grows." + +Then she stooped and bathed her eyes and face in the cold salt water, +and afterward walked slowly back to Paul Borson's. The house was +full of company and merry-making, and she was forced to fall into +the mood expected from her. Women do such things by supreme efforts +beyond the power of men. And Karen's smiles showed nothing of the +shadow behind them, even when Liot questioned her about her visit. + +"She is a bad woman, Liot," answered Karen, "and she said many +temper-trying words." + +"That is what I looked for, Karen. It is her way about all things +to scold and storm her utmost. Does she trouble you, dear one?" + +"I will not be word-sick for her. There is, as you said, no love lost +between us, and I shall not care a rap for her anger. Thanks to the +Best, we can live without her." And in this great trust she laid her +hand in Liot's, and all shadows fled away. + +It was then a lovely night, bright with rosy auroras; but before +morning there was a storm. The bridal march to the kirk had to be +given up, and, hooded and cloaked, the company went to the ceremony +as they best could. There was no note of music to step to; it was +hard enough to breast the gusty, rattling showers, and the whole +landscape was a little tragedy of wind and rain, of black, tossing +seas and black, driving clouds. Many who were not at the bridal +shook their heads at the storm-drenched wedding-guests, and predicted +an unhappy marriage; and a few ventured to assert that Matilda +Sabiston had been seen going to the spaewife Asta. "And what for," +they asked, "but to buy charms for evil weather?" + +All such dark predictions, however, appeared to be negatived by +actual facts. No man in Lerwick was so happy as Liot Borson. The home +he had built Karen made a marvel of neatness and even beauty; it was +always spotless and tidy, and full of bits of bright color--gay +patchwork and crockery, and a snow-white hearth with its glow of +fiery peat. Always she was ready to welcome him home with a loving +kiss and all the material comforts his toil required. _And they +loved each other!_ When that has been said, what remains unsaid? It +covers the whole ground of earthly happiness. + +How the first shadow crossed the threshold of this happy home +neither Liot nor Karen could tell; it came without observation. +It was in the air, and entered as subtly and as silently. Liot +noticed it first. It began with the return of Brent. When he gave +Bele the piece of cloth and the gold brooch for his wife, he was +on the point of leaving Amsterdam for Java. Fever and various other +things delayed his return, but in the end he came back to Lerwick +and began to talk about Bele. For Auda, reticent until her husband's +return, then told him of Bele's visit; and one speculation grew on +the top of another until something like the truth was in all men's +minds, even though it was not spoken. Liot saw the thought forming in +eyes that looked at him; he felt it in little reluctances of his +mates, and heard it, or thought he heard it, in their voices. He +took home with him the unhappy hesitation or misgiving, and watched +to see if it would touch the consciousness of Karen. The loving +wife, just approaching the perilous happiness of maternity, kept +asking herself, "What is it? What is it?" And the answer was ever +the same--the accusing words that Matilda Sabiston had said, and +the quick, sick terror of heart they had awakened. + +On Christmas day Karen had a son, a child of extraordinary beauty, +that brought his soul into the world with him. The women said that +his eyes instantly followed the light, and that his birth-cry passed +into a smile. Liot was solemnly and silently happy. He sat for hours +holding his wife's hand and watching the little lad sleeping so +sweetly after his first hard travail; for the birth of this child +meant to Liot far more than any mortal comprehended. He knew himself +to be of religiously royal ancestry, and the covenant of God to +such ran distinctly, "_To you and your children._" So, then, if God +had refused him children, he would certainly have believed that for +his sin in regard to Bele Trenby the covenant between God and the +Borsons was broken. This fair babe was a renewal of it. He took +him in his arms with a prayer of inexpressible thanksgiving. He +kissed the child, and called him David with the kiss, and said to +his soul, "The Lord hath accepted my contrition." + +For some weeks this still and perfect happiness continued. The +days were dark and stormy, and the nights long; but in Liot's home +there was the sunlight of a woman's face and the music of a baby's +voice. The early spring brought the first anxiety, for it brought +with it no renewal of Karen's health and strength. She had the look +of a leaf that is just beginning to droop upon its stem, and Liot +watched her from day to day with a sick anxiety. He made her go +to sea with him, and laughed with joy when the keen winds brought +back the bright color to her cheeks. But it was only a momentary +flush, bought at far too great a price of vitality. In a few weeks +she could not pay the price, and the heat of the summer prostrated +her. She had drooped in the spring; in the autumn she faded away. +When Christmas came again there was no longer any hope left in +Liot's broken heart; he knew she was dying. Night and day he was +at her side, there was so much to say to each other; for only God +knew how long they were to be parted, or in what place of his great +universe they should meet again. + +At the end of February it had come to this acknowledgment between +them. Sometimes Liot sat with dry eyes, listening to Karen's sweet +hopes of their reunion; sometimes he laid his head upon her pillow +and wept such tears as leave life ever afterward dry at its source. +And the root of this bitterness was Bele Trenby. If it had not +been for this man Liot could have shared his wife's hopes and +said farewell to her with the thought of heaven in his heart; but +the very memory of Bele sank him below the tide of hope. God was +even then "entering into judgment with him," and what if he should +not be able to endure unto the end, and so win, though hardly, a +painful acceptance? In every phase and form such thoughts haunted the +wretched man continually. And surely Karen divined it, for all +her sweet efforts were to fill his heart with a loving "looking +forward" to their meeting, and a confident trust in God's everlasting +mercy. + +One stormy night in March she woke from a deep slumber and called +Liot. Her voice had that penetrating intelligence of the dying which +never deceives, and Liot knew instantly that the hour for parting had +come. He took her hands and murmured in tones of anguish, "O Karen, +Karen! wife of my soul!" + +She drew him closer, and said with the eagerness of one in great +haste, "Oh, my dear one, I shall soon be nearer to God than you. At +his feet I will pray. Tell me--tell me quick, what shall I ask for +you? Liot, dear one, tell me!" + +"Ask that I may be forgiven _all_ my sins." + +"Is there one great sin, dear one? Oh, tell me now--one about Bele +Trenby? Speak quickly, Liot. Did you see him die?" + +"I did, but I hurt him not." + +"He went into the moss?" + +"Yes." + +"You could have saved him and did not?" + +"If I had spoken in time; there was but a single moment--I know +not what prevented me. O Karen, I have suffered! I have suffered a +thousand deaths!" + +"My dear one, I have known it. Now we will pray together--I in +heaven, thou on earth. Fear not, dear, dear Liot; he spareth all; +they are his. The Lord is the lover of souls." + +These were her last words. With clasped hands and wide-open eyes she +lay still, watching and listening, ready to follow when beckoned, and +looking with fixed vision, as if seeing things invisible, into the +darkness she was about to penetrate. Steeped to his lips in anguish, +Liot stood motionless until a dying breath fluttered through the +room; and he knew by his sudden sense of loss and loneliness that +she was gone, and that for this life he was alone forevermore. + +----- +[Footnote 2: Shoes made of untanned cowhide.] + + + + +III + +A SENTENCE FOR LIFE + + +All Lerwick had been anticipating the death of Karen, but when it +came there was a shock. She was so young and so well loved, besides +which her affectionate heart hid a great spirit; and there was a +general hope that for her husband's and child's sake she would hold +on to life. For, in spite of all reasoning, there remains deep in the +heart of man a sense of mastery over his own destiny--a conviction +that we do not die until we are willing to die. We "resign" our +spirits; we "commit" them to our Creator; we "_give up_ the ghost"; +and it did not seem possible to the wives and mothers of Lerwick +that Karen would "give up" living. Her mortality was so finely +blended with her immortality, it was hard to believe in such early +dissolution. Alas! the finer the nature, the more readily it is +fretted to decay by underlying wrong or doubt. When Matilda Sabiston +drove Karen down to the sea-shore on the day before her bridal she +really gave her the death-blow. + +For Karen needed more than the bread and love of mortal life to +sustain her. She belonged to that high order of human beings who +require a sure approval of conscience even for their physical +health, and whose house of life, wanting this fine cement, easily +falls to dissolution. Did she, then, doubt her husband? Did she +believe Matilda's accusations to be true? Karen asked herself +these questions very often, and always answered them with strong +assurances of Liot's innocence; but nevertheless they became part +of her existence. No mental decisions, nor even actual words, +could drive them from the citadel they had entered. Though she +never mentioned the subject to Liot, though she watched herself +continually lest any such doubts should darken her smiles or chill +her love, yet they insensibly impregnated the house in which they +dwelt with her. Liot could not say he felt them here or there, but +they were all-pervading. + +Karen withered in their presence, and Liot's denser soul would +eventually have become sick with the same influence. It was, +therefore, no calamity that spared their love such a tragic trial, +and if Liot had been a man of clearer perceptions he would have +understood that it was not in anger, but in mercy to both of them, +that Karen had been removed to paradise. Her last words, however, +had partially opened his spiritual vision. He saw what poison had +defiled the springs of her life, and he knew instinctively that +Matilda Sabiston was the enemy that had done the deed. + +It was, therefore, little wonder that he sent her no notice of +her niece's death. And, indeed, Matilda heard of it first through +the bellman calling the funeral hour through the town. The day was +of the stormiest, and many remembered how steadily storm and gust +had attended all the great events of Karen's short life. She had +been born in the tempest which sent her father to the bottom of the +sea, and she herself, in coming from Yell to Lerwick, had barely +escaped shipwreck. Her bridal garments had been drenched with rain, +and on the day set for her baby's christening there was one of the +worst of snow-storms. Indeed, many said that it was the wetting she +received on that occasion which had developed the "wasting" that +killed her. The same turmoil of the elements marked her burial +day. A cold northeast wind drove through the wet streets, and the +dreary monotony of the outside world was unspeakable. + +But Matilda Sabiston looked through her dim windows without any +sense of the weather's depressing influence--the storm of anger in +her heart was so much more imperative. She waited impatiently for +the hour appointed for the funeral, and then threw over her head +and shoulders a large hood and cloak of blue flannel. She did not +realize that the wind blew them backward, that her gray hairs were +dripping and disarranged, and her clothing storm-draggled and +unsuitable for the occasion; her one thought was to reach Liot's +house about the time when the funeral guests were all assembled. She +lifted the latch and entered the crowded room like a bad fate. +Every one ceased whispering and looked at her. + +She stepped swiftly to the side of the coffin, which was resting +on two chairs in the middle of the room. Liot leaned on the one at +the head; the minister stood by the one at the foot, and he was +just opening the book in his hands. He looked steadily at Matilda, +and there was a warning in the look, which the angry woman totally +disdained. Liot never lifted his eyes; they were fixed on Karen's +dead face; but his hands held mechanically a Bible, open at its +proper place. But though he did not see Matilda, he knew when she +entered; he felt the horror of her approach, and when she laid her +hand on his arm he shook it violently off and forced himself to look +into her evilly gleaming eyes. + +She laughed outright. "So the curse begins," she said, "and this is +but the first of it." + +"This is no hour to talk of curses, Mistress Sabiston," said the +minister, sternly. "If you cannot bring pity and pardon to the dead, +then fear to come into their presence." + +"I have nothing to fear from the dead. It is Liot Borson who is +'followed,' not me; I did not murder Bele Trenby." + +"Now, then," answered the minister, "it is time there was a stop +put to this talk. Speak here, before the living and the dead, the +evil words you have said in the ears of so many. What have you to +say against Liot Borson?" + +"Look at him!" she cried. "He dares to hold in his hands the Holy +Word, and I vow those hands of his are red with the blood of the man +he murdered--I mean of Bele Trenby." + +Liot kept his eyes fixed on her until she ceased speaking; then he +turned them on the minister and said, "Speak for me." + +"Speak for thyself once and for all, Liot. Speak here before God and +thy dead wife and thy mates and thy townsmen. Did thy hands slay +Bele Trenby? Are they indeed red with his blood?" + +"I never lifted one finger against Bele Trenby. My hands are clear +and clean from all blood-guiltiness." And he dropped the Word upon +Karen's breast, and held up his hands in the sight of heaven and men. + +"You lie!" screamed Matilda. + +"God is my judge, not you," answered Liot. + +"It is the word of Liot Borson. Who believes it?" asked the minister. +"Let those who do so take the hands he declares guiltless of blood." +And the minister clasped Liot's hands as he spoke the words, and then +stepped aside to allow others to follow him. And there was not one +man or woman present who did not thus openly testify to their +belief in Liot's innocence. Matilda mocked them as they did so with +output tongue and scornful laughs; but no one interfered until the +minister said: + +"Mistress Sabiston, you must now hold your peace forever." + +"I will not. I will--" + +"It is your word against Liot's, and your word is not believed." + +Then the angry woman fell into a great rage, and railed on every one +so passionately that for a few moments she carried all before her. +Some of the company stood up round the coffin, as if to defend the +dead; and the minister looked at Grimm and Twatt, two big fishermen, +and said, "Mistress Sabiston is beside herself; take her civilly +to her home." And they drew her arms within their own, and so led +her storming out into the storm. + +Liot had the better of his enemy, but he felt no sense of victory. +He did not even see the manner of her noisy exit, for he stood in +angry despair, looking down at the calm face of his dead wife. +Then the door shut out the turmoil, and the solemn voice of the +minister called peace into the disquieted, woeful room. Liot was +insensible to the change. His whole soul was insurgent; he was ready +to accuse heaven and earth of unutterable cruelty to him. Strong +as his physical nature was, at this hour it was almost impotent. His +feet felt too heavy to move; he saw, and he saw not; and the words +that were spoken were only a chaos of sounds. + +Andrew Vedder and Hal Skager took his right arm and his left, and +led him to his place in the funeral procession. It was only a +small one. Those not closely connected with the Borsons went to +their homes after the service; for, besides the storm, the hour +was late and the night closing in. It seemed as if nature showed her +antagonism to poor Karen even to the last scene of her mortal drama; +for the tide flowed late, and a Shetlander can only be buried +with the flowing tide. The failing light, however, was but a part of +the great tragedy of Liot's soul; it seemed the proper environment. + +He bared his head as he took his place, and when urged to put on +his hat flung it from him. The storm beat on Karen's coffin; why not +on his head also? People looked at him pitifully as he passed, and an +old woman, as she came out of her cottage to cast the customary three +clods of earth behind the coffin, called out as she did so, "The +comforts of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost be with you, Liot." It +was Margaret Borson, and she was a century old. She tottered into +the storm, and a little child handed her the turf clods, which she +cast with the prayer. It came from kindred lips, and so entered +Liot's ears. He lifted his eyes a moment, looked at the eldrich, +shadowy woman trembling in the gray light, and bowing his head said +softly, "Thank you, mother." + +There was not a word spoken at the open grave. Liot stood in a +breathing stupor until all was over, and then got back somehow to +his desolate home. Paul Borson's wife had taken the child away with +her, and other women had tidied the room and left a pot of tea on the +hob and a little bread and meat on the table. He was alone at last. +He slipped the wooden bolt across the door, and then sat down to +think and to suffer. + +But the mercy of God found him out, and he fell into a deep sleep; +and in that sleep he dreamed a dream, and was a little comforted. +"I have sinned," he said when he awoke; "but I am His child, and I +cannot slip beyond His mercy. My life shall be atonement, and I will +not fear to fall into His hands." + +And, thank God, no grief lasts forever. As the days and weeks wore +away Liot's sorrow for his wife grew more reasonable; then the +spring came and the fishing was to attend to; and anon little David +began to interest his heart and make him plan for the future. He +resolved to save money and send the lad to St. Andrew's, and give him +to the service of the Lord. All that he longed for David should +have; all that he had failed to accomplish David should do. He would +give his own life freely if by this sacrifice he could make David's +life worthy to be an offering at His altar. + +The dream, though it never came true, comforted and strengthened him; +it was something to live for. He was sure that, wherever in God's +universe Karen now dwelt, she would be glad of such a destiny for +her boy. He worked cheerfully night and day for his purpose, and +the work in itself rewarded him. The little home in which he had +been so happy and so miserable was sold, and the money put in the +bank for "David's education." All Liot's life now turned upon this +one object, and, happily, it was sufficient to restore to him that +hope--that something to look forward to--which is the salt of life. + +Matilda gave him no further trouble. She sent him a bill for Karen's +board, and he paid it without a word; and this was the last stone she +could throw; besides which, she found herself compelled by public +opinion to make some atonement for her outrageous behavior, since in +those days it would have been as easy to live in St. Petersburg +and quarrel with the czar as to live in Shetland and not have the +minister's approval. So Mistress Sabiston had a special interview +with the Rev. Magnus Ridlon, and she also sent a sum of money to +the kirk as a "mortification," and eventually was restored to all +sacred privileges, except the great one of the holy table. This +depended inexorably on her public exoneration of Liot and her +cultivation of good-will toward him. She utterly refused Liot, +and preferred to want the sacred bread and wine rather than eat +and drink them with Liot Borson. And though Liot declared his +willingness to forgive Matilda fully, in his heart he was not +sorry to be spared the spiritual obligation. + +So the seasons wore away, and summer and winter brought work and +rest, until David was nearly six years old. By this time the women +of Lerwick thought Liot should look for another wife. "There is +Halla Odd," said Jean Borson; "she is a widow of thine own age and +she is full-handed. It is proper for thee now to make a home for +thyself and David. When a wife has been dead four years there has +been mourning enough." + +Impatient of such talk at first, Liot finally took it into some +consideration; but it always ended in one way: he cast his eyes +to that lonely croft where Karen slept, and remembered words she had +once spoken: + +"In a little while I shall go away, Liot, and people will say, 'She +is in her grave'; _but I shall not be there._" + +That was exactly Liot's feeling--Karen was not there. She had loved +God and believed in heaven, and he was sure that she had gone to +heaven. And from every spot on the open sea or the streeted town +or the solitary moors he had only to look up to the place where his +beloved dwelt. He did, however, as Jean Borson desired: he thought +about Halla Odd; he watched her ways, and speculated about her +money and her house skill and the likelihood of her making a good +stepmother to David. + +Probably, if events had taken their usual course, he would have +married Halla; but at the beginning of the summer this thing +happened: a fine private yacht was brought into harbor with her +sails torn to rags and her mainmast injured. Coming down from the +north, she had been followed and caught by a storm, and was in +considerable distress when she was found by some Lerwick +fisher-smacks. Then, as Liot Borson was the best sailmaker in the +town, he was hired to put the yacht's canvas in good condition; +and while doing so the captain of the yacht, who was also her +owner, talked often with him about the different countries he had +visited. He showed him paintings of famous places and many +illustrated volumes of travel, and so fired Liot's heart that his +imagination, like a bird, flew off in all directions. + +In a short time the damaged wayfarer, with all her new sails set, +went southward, and people generally forgot her visit. But Liot +was no more the same man after it. He lived between the leaves of a +splendid book of voyages which had been left with him. Halla went +out of his thoughts and plans, and all his desires were set to one +distinct purpose--to see the world, and the whole world. David was +the one obstacle. He did not wish to leave him in Shetland, for +his intention was to bid farewell forever to the island. It had +suddenly become a prison to him; he longed to escape from it. So, +then, David must be taken away or the boy would draw him back; but +the question was, where should he carry the child? + +He thought instantly of his sister, who was married to a man in +comfortable circumstances living at Stornoway, in the Outer +Hebrides, and he resolved to take David to her. He could now afford +to pay well for his board and schooling, and he was such a firm +believer in the tie of blood-kinship that the possibility of the +child not being kindly treated never entered his mind. And as he was +thinking over the matter a man came from Stornoway to the Shetland +fishing, and spoke well of his sister Lizzie and her husband. He +said also that their only child was in the Greenland whaling-fleet, +and that David would be a godsend of love to their solitary hearts. + +This report satisfied Liot, and the rest was easily managed. Paul +Borson urged him to stay until the summer fishing was over; but +Liot was possessed by the sole idea of getting away, and he would +listen to nothing that interfered with this determination. He +owned half the boat in which he fished, and as it was just at the +beginning of the season he was obliged to buy the other half at an +exorbitant price. But the usually prudent man would make no delays; +he paid the price asked, and then quickly prepared the boat for +the voyage he contemplated. + +One night after David was asleep he carried him on board of her; +and Paul divined his purpose, though it was unspoken. He walked +with him to the boat, and they smoked their last pipe together in +the moonlight on her deck, and were both very silent. Paul had told +himself that he had a great deal to say to his cousin, yet when +it came to the last hour they found themselves unable to talk. At +midnight both men stood up. + +"The tide serves," said Liot, softly, holding out his hand. + +And Paul clasped it and answered: "God be with thee, Liot." + +"We shall meet no more in this life, Paul." + +"Then I tryst thee for the next life; that will be a good meeting. +Fare thee well. God keep thee!" + +[Illustration: "THE WATERS OF THE GREAT DEEP."] + +"And thee also." + +"Then we shall be well kept, both of us." + +That was the last of Shetland for Liot Borson. He watched his kinsman +out of sight, and then lifted his anchor, and in the silence and +moonlight went out to sea. When the Lerwick people awoke in the +morning Liot was miles and miles away. He was soon forgotten. It +was understood that he would never come back, and there was no more +interest in him than there is in the dead. Like them, he had had +his time of sojourn, and his place knew him no more. + +As for Liot, he was happy. He set his sails, and covered David more +warmly, and then lay down under the midnight stars. The wind was at +his back, and the lonely land of his birth passed from his eyes as a +dream passes. In the morning the islands were not to be seen; they +were hidden by belts of phantom foam, wreathed and vexed with spray +and spindrift. There was, fortunately, no wrath in the morning +tide, only a steady, irresistible set to the westward; and this was +just what Liot desired. For many days these favorable circumstances +continued, and Liot and David were very happy together; but as they +neared the vexed seas which lash Cape Wrath and pour down into the +North Minch, Liot had enough to do to keep his boat afloat. + +He was driven against his will and way almost to the Butt of Lewis; +and as his meal and water were very low, he looked for death in +more ways than one. Then the north wind came, and he hoped to reach +the broad Bay of Stornoway with it; but it was soon so strong and +savage that nothing could be done but make all snug as possible +for the gale and then run before it. It proved to be worse than +Liot anticipated, and, hungry and thirsty and utterly worn out, +the helpless boat and her two dying occupants were picked up by some +Celtic coasters from Uig, and taken to the little hamlet to which +they were going. + +There Liot stayed all summer, fishing with the men of the place; +but he was not happy, for, though they were Calvinists as to faith, +they were very different from the fair, generous, romantic men of +his own islands. For the fishers of Uig were heavy-faced Celts, +with the impatient look of men selfish and greedy of gain. They +made Liot pay well for such privileges as they gave him; and he +looked forward to the close of the fishing season, for then he was +determined to go to Stornoway and get David a more comfortable and +civilized home, after which he would sell his boat and nets. And +then? Then he would take the first passage he could get to Glasgow, +for at Glasgow there were ships bound for every port in the world. + +It was on the 5th of September that he again set sail for Stornoway, +and on the 11th he was once more brought back to Uig. A great storm +had stripped him of everything he possessed but his disabled boat. +David was in a helpless, senseless condition, and Liot had a broken +arm, and fainted from suffering and exhaustion while he was being +carried on shore. In some way he lost his purse, and it contained all +his money. He looked at the sea and he looked at the men, and he +knew not which had it. So there was nothing possible for another +winter but poverty and hard toil, and perchance a little hope, +now and then, of a better voyage in the spring. + +With endless labor and patience he prepared for this third attempt, +and one lovely day in early June set sail for the Butt of Lewis. He +had good weather and fair winds for two days; then the norther +came and drove him round Vatternish, and into the dangerous +whirlpools and vexed waterways of that locality. His boat began to +leak, and he was forced to abandon her, and for thirty hours to +thole the blustering winds and waves that tossed the little +cockle-shell, in which they took a last refuge, like a straw +upon the billows. Again the men of Uig brought them to shore; and +this time they were sulky, and expressed no sympathy for Liot's +disappointment, loss, and suffering. They had become superstitious +about him, and they speculated and wondered at the ill luck that +always drove him back to Skye. Roy Hunish, a very old man, spoke for +the rest when he said, "It seems to me, Liot Borson, that the Lord +has not sent you to Stornoway; he is against the journey." And +Liot answered sadly: "He is against all I desire." + +When they had been warmed and fed and rested in one of the nearest +cottages, Liot took David in his arms and went back to his old hut. +He put the sleeping child in the bunk, and then sat down on the +cold, dark hearthstone. What Hunish expressed so plainly was the +underlying thought in his own heart. He could not escape from a +conclusion so tragically manifested. In sorrow too great for +tears, he compelled himself to resign all his hopes and dreams--a +renunciation as bitter as wormwood, but not as cruelly bitter as +the one it included; for his rejection was also the rejection of +his son. God had not forgiven him, nor had he accepted David's +dedication to his service, for he had stripped him of all means +to accomplish it. He might have permitted him to reach Stornoway and +leave the boy among his kindred; he had chosen rather to include +David in the sin of his father. This was the thought that wounded +his heart like a sword. He went to the sleeping boy and kissed his +face, weeping most of all for the sorrow he had brought on the +innocent one. + +If this earth be a penal world, Liot that night went down to one of +its lowest hells. Sorrow of many kinds brutally assailed him. He +hid nothing from his consciousness. He compelled himself to see +over again the drowning of Bele--that irreparable wrong which had +ruined all his happiness; he compelled himself to stand once more by +Karen's coffin, and listen to his own voice calling God to witness +his innocence; he compelled himself to admit that he had thought God +had forgotten his sin of seven years ago. And when these things had +been thought out to the end, his heart was so full that he quite +unconsciously gave utterance to his thoughts in audible speech. The +tones of his voice in the darkness were like those of a man praying, +and the hopeless words filled the sorrowful room with a sense of +suffering: + +"So, then, it is for a life-sentence that I am sent here. There is +to be no pardon till I have dreed out the years appointed me in the +gust and poverty of this dreadful place, among its hard, unfriendly +men. My God! I am but thirty-three years old. How long wilt thou be +angry with me? And the little lad! Pass me by, but oh, be merciful to +him!" + +A great silence followed this imploration. The man was waiting. For +hours he sat motionless; but just before dawn he must have heard +a word of strength or comfort, for he rose to his feet and bowed +his head. He was weeping bitterly, and his voice was like a sob; but +from that hut on the wild Skye coast there arose with a heartbroken +cry the sublimest of mortal prayers--"_Thy will be done._" + + + + +IV + +THE DOOR WIDE OPEN + + +Resignation is not always contentment, and though Liot accepted +God's will in place of his own will, he took it rather with a dour +patience than with a cheerful satisfaction. Yet in a certain way +life gets made independent of our efforts. A higher power than our +own brings events about, finds a way across the hills of difficulty, +smooths out the rough places, and makes straight what our folly +has made crooked. When it became certain that Liot would make +his life-home near Uig the men on that coast began to treat him with +more friendliness, and the women pitied and cared a little for his +motherless boy. And by and by there came a new minister, who found +in Liot a man after his own heart. The two men became familiars, +and the friendship made life more supportable to both. + +It was a hard existence, however, for the child. Liot loved his son, +but he was not a demonstrative father, and he thought more of doing +his duty to David than of showing him affection or providing him +with pleasure. For when all hopes of making him a minister were +over David lost something in Liot's estimation. He was, then, just +a common lad, in whose heart, as a matter of course, folly and +disobedience were bound up. It was his place to exorcise everything +like joy, and with the phantoms of a gloomy creed to darken and +terrify his childhood. + +Before David had shed his baby teeth, hell and the devil were +tremendous realities to him. An immaculate, pitiless God, who +delighted in taking vengeance on his enemies, haunted all his +boyhood's dreams; and the "scheme of salvation," by which perchance +this implacable Deity might be conciliated, was the beginning and +the end of his education. With an amazing distinctness in question +and answer, this "scheme" was laid before him, and by the word +and the rod of admonition he was made familiar with the letter of its +awful law. + +Here, then, was a child whom a sad destiny had led far away from +happiness. His nature was singularly affectionate, yet he had no +memory of a mother's kiss, or, indeed, of any tender human kindness. +No one petted or loved him; no one heeded his childish sorrows and +sufferings. He had toothaches and earaches, about which he felt it +useless to speak. He went into the boats with his father as soon as +he could bait a line, and was forced to endure all that men endured +from salt-water boils, chilblains, frost-bites, and the lashing +of spray-laden winds. Cold and hunger, heat and thirst, and the +frequent intolerable sleepiness of overtaxed strength made up the +sad drama of his childhood; and he played his part in it with a +patient submission that sometimes won from his father astonishment +and a few words of praise or admiration. + +Such words made glorious epochs in the boy's life; he could remember +every one of them. Once, when Liot could get no one to launch a boat +and go with him to the help of four men drowning before their eyes, +the ten-year-old lad came radiantly forward and said, "Take me, +father; I will go with you." And the two went on the desperate +errand together, and brought back safely the men ready to perish. +Then, when all was well over and the child stood trembling with +exhaustion, Liot drew him close to his side, and pushed his wet +hair from his brow, and said with proud tenderness, "You are a +good, brave boy. God bless you, David!" And the happy upward look of +the child had his mother's smile in it, and before Liot knew what he +was doing he had stooped and kissed him. The event was a wonderful +one, and it made a tie between the father and the son that it was +beyond the power of time to loosen. + +Liot's own boyhood had been filled with the dreams and stories +of the elder world. He had been conscious all his life of this +influence streaming up from the centuries behind him, and coloring, +and even moving, his present existence. The fierce hatred he felt +for Bele Trenby came from unchristened ancestors, and the dumb +murder, which had darkened his life and sent him to Uig, from the +same source. He told David none of these stirring sagas. He was +resolved that the knowledge of the thrall's curse should not call +sorrow to him. He never named the heroic Gisli in his hearing. +And once, when he found an old fisherman reciting "Ossian" to +David, he fell into such anger as terrified every one. Indeed, he +said words at that hour which would have made much trouble and +ill-will if the minister had not justified them and called Liot's +anger a "righteous one." + +And in those days there was absolutely no literature for the people. +Books were dear and scarce; ten years might pass without a new one +drifting into a hamlet; and newspapers were few and for the rich +alone. David, then, had but one book--the Holy Scriptures. He +read them, and read them again, and found everything in them. +Fortunately, the wonderful wisdom and stories of the Apocrypha had +not then been discarded; the book had its place between the Old +and the New Testament. And David was wise with Solomon, and saw +beautiful visions with Esdras, and lived and glowed and fought with +the heroic Maccabees. + +And we who have far more books than we can read can hardly +understand how David loved the Bible. It was his poetry, his +philosophy, his history; it was, above all, the speech of God to man. +Through it he breathed the air of the old, old East, and grew up +under the shadows of Judea's palms and olives; so that the rainy +gloom of the coast of Skye was but an accident of his existence. +Abraham and Joseph, Moses and Joshua, were far more real personages +to David Borson than the Duke of Wellington or Napoleon and his +twelve marshals. Through the stormy days when it was impossible to go +to sea, and in the long winter nights, when he stretched himself +before the red peats with a little oil-cruse, he and the Bible +were friends and companions. It kept him in direct relation with +God and heaven; it fed him on faith; it made him subject to duty; it +gave him a character at once courageous and gentle, calm and +ideal--such a character as is very rare in our days, and which, +where it does exist, will _not_ be transmitted. + +So that, with all his hard work and many deprivations, David had +his happy hours. And the years went by, and he grew up to a fair and +stately manhood, not rebelling against his fate, but taking it as +a part of the inscrutable mystery of life and death constantly +before his eyes. Others around him suffered in like manner, and at +the end one thing happened to all. No; it was not the tyranny of +nature nor of his material life that troubled David as he approached +manhood; it was the spiritual tyranny under which he lived and +prayed which darkened his days and filled his nights with thoughts +which he dared not follow to their proper conclusion and was equally +afraid to dismiss. + +This was his dilemma. He had been taught by a father whom he trusted +implicitly that life was only a short and precarious opportunity +for working out his salvation with fear and trembling; peradventure +he might be counted among the remnant whom God would elect to +save from eternal misery. And in a measure the constant east +winds and cloudy heavens, the cold and stormy seas, and the gloom +and poverty of all his surroundings were so many confirmations of +this unhappy conviction. Yet it was very hard for him to believe +that the God of the Bible, "like a father pitying his children," +was the God of his Shorter and Longer Catechisms. As his twentieth +year approached these doubts and questions would not be put away, +and yet he dared not speak of them either to the minister or to his +father. + +Then, one night, as he was watching his lines and hooks, something +happened which broke the adamantine seal upon his soul. He was quite +alone in his boat, and she was drifting slowly under the full moon; +there was not a sound upon the ocean but the wash of the water +against her sides. He was sitting motionless, thinking of the sadness +and weariness of life, and wishing that God would love him, though +ever so little, and, above all, that he would give him some word or +sign of his care for him. His hands were clasped upon his knees, +his eyes fixed on the far horizon; between him and the God whom he so +ignorantly feared and desired there was apparently infinite space and +infinite silence. + +All at once some one seemed to come into the boat beside him. An +ineffable peace and tenderness, a sweetness not to be described, +encompassed the lonely youth. He was sensible of a glory he could +not see; he was comforted by words that were inaudible to his natural +ears. During this transitory experience he scarcely breathed, but as +it slowly passed away he rose reverently to his feet. "An angel has +been with me," he thought. + +After this event the whole fabric of his creed vanished at times +before the inexplicable revelation. Yet the terrible power of early +impressions is not easily eradicated, even by the supernatural; and +whenever he reasoned about the circumstance he came to the conclusion +that it might have been a snare and a delusion of the Evil One. For +why should an angel be sent with a word to him? or why should he dare +to hope that his longing after God's love had touched the heart of +the Eternal? Yet, though the glory was dissolved by the doubting, +nothing could quite rob him of his blessing; in the midst of the +sternest realities of his rough daily toil he found himself musing +on those wonderful days when angels went and came among men as +they threshed their wheat or worked at their handicrafts, when +prayer was visibly answered and the fire dropped from heaven on the +accepted sacrifice. + +He thought the more on this subject because his father was visibly +dying from some internal disease, which was dissolving with rapid, +inexorable suffering the house of clay in which the soul of Liot +Borson dwelt. Liot was aware of it, and had borne with silent +courage the enemy's advances toward the citadel of life. Very +reluctantly he had given up his duties one by one, until the day came +when nothing remained for him to do but to wait and to suffer; then +he spoke plainly to David. It happened to be the lad's twenty-sixth +birthday, and Liot had his own memories of the first one. Almost +inadvertently the name of Karen passed his lips, and then he talked +long of her goodness, her love, and her beauty; and David listened +with an interest that tempted more confidence than Liot had ever +thought to give. + +"If you had such a wife as Karen Sabiston was to me," he said, "then, +David, you would be happy even in this place. But you will not stay +here. When I am gone away to the land very far off, then you will go +back to Shetland--to your own land and your own people." + +"I will do as you wish, father." + +"You will marry; that is to be looked for. I have seen that girl +of Talisker's watching you, and luring you with her sly smiles +and glances. Give her no notice. I like not these Celtic women, +with their round black eyes and their red color and black hair. In +Shetland you will see women that you may safely love--good and +beautiful girls of your own race; there must be no strange women +among the Borsons. Your Bible tells you what sorrow comes from +marrying daughters of Heth and their like. Go to Shetland for your +wife." + +"I will, father." + +"You will find friends and kindred there--my good cousin Paul, and +his sons and daughters, and your mother's family in Yell, and Matilda +Sabiston. I would say something of her, but she is doubtless in the +grave by this time, and gone to the mercy of the Merciful." + +"Was she of our kindred, then?" + +"Of your mother's kin. They were ill friends here, but yonder all +may--all _will_ be different." + +During this conversation Liot made his son understand that the +messenger of release might come at any hour; but in the morning he +felt so free from pain that David thought he could safely go to +the early fishing. When he reached the pier, however, the boat had +sailed without him, and he walked into Uig and told the minister +how near the end it was. And the minister answered: + +"We have had our farewell, David. We shall meet no more till we meet +in the city of God." He spoke with a subdued enthusiasm, and his +grave face was luminous with an interior transfiguration. Suddenly +the sun came from behind a cloud, and the flying shower was crowned +with a glorious rainbow. He drew David to the window, and said in +a rapture of adoration: + +"The token of His covenant! It compasseth the heavens about with a +glorious circle, and _the hands of the Most High have bended it_. +Could any words be more vitally realistic, David? Tell your father +what you have seen--the token of His covenant! The token of His +covenant!" + +And David went away, awed and silent; for there was in the minister's +eyes that singular brilliance which presages a vision of things +invisible. They looked straight into the sunshine. Did they see +beyond it to where the "innumerable company of angels" were +singing, "Holy, holy, holy"? + +Indeed, he was so much impressed that he took the longest way +home. He wanted to think over what his father and the minister had +said, and he wanted that solitude of nature which had so often +been to him the voice of God. The road itself was only a foot-path +across a melancholy moor, covered with heather and boulders, and +encompassed by cyclopean wrecks of mountains, the vapory outlines of +which suggested nothing but endless ruin. Although the season was +midsummer, there had been sharp, surly whiffs of rain all day long, +and the dreary levels were full of little lochs of black moss +water. So David kept to the seaward side, where the land was higher, +and where he could see the roll of a spent gale swinging round +Vatternish toward the red, rent bastions of Skye, and hear its +thunder amid the purple caves of the basalt and the whitened tiers of +the ooelite, silencing all meaner sounds. + +After a trailing, thoughtful walk of a mile, he came to a spot where +a circle of druidical monoliths stood huge and pale in the misty +air. He went straight into the haunted place with the manner of +one familiar with it, cast his nets on the low central stone which +had once been the sacrificial altar of the dead creed, and then +leaned wearily against one of the sheltering pillars. + +His person was at this time remarkably handsome and in wonderful +harmony with its surroundings. He was large and strong--a man not +made for the narrow doorways of the town, but for the wide, stormy +spaces of the unstreeted ocean. The sea was in his eyes, which were +blue and outlooking; his broad breast was bared to the wind and +rain; his legs were planted apart, as if he was hauling up an anchor +or standing on a reeling deck. An air of somber gravity, a face +sad and mystical, distinguished his solitary figure. He was the +unconscious incarnation of the lonely land and the stormy sea. + +Leaning against the pagan pillar, he revolved in his mind those +great questions that survive every change of race and dynasty: Whence +come we? Where go we? How can a man be justified with God? Though +the rain smote him east and west, he was in the sunshine of the Holy +Land; he was drawing nets with Simon Peter on the Sea of Galilee; he +was listening to Him who spake as never man spake. Suddenly the +sharp whistle of a passing steamer roused him. He turned his eyes +seaward, and saw the _Polly Ann_ hastening to the railway port with +her load of fish for the Glasgow market. The sight set him again in +the nineteenth century. Then he felt the rain, and he drew his bonnet +over his brows, and lifted his nets, and began to walk toward the +little black hut on the horizon. It was of large stones roughly +mortared together, and it had a low chimney, and a door fastened with +a leather strap; but the small window wanted the screen of white +muslin usual in Highland cots, and was dim with dust and cobwebs. + +It was David's home, and he knew his father waited there for his +coming; so he hastened his steps; but the radiant, dreamy look +which had made him handsome was gone, and he approached the door +with the air of a man who is weary of to-day and without hope for the +morrow. At the threshold he threw off this aspect, and entered +with a smile. His father, sitting wearily in a wooden arm-chair, +turned his face to meet him. It was the face of a man walking with +death. Human agony grimly borne without complaint furrowed it; +gray as ashes were the cheeks, and the eyes alone retained the +"spark of heavenly flame" which we call life. + +"There has been a change, David," he said, "and it is well you are +come; for I know I must soon be going, and there is this and that to +say--as there always is at the parting." + +"I see that you are worse, father. Let me go for the doctor now." + +"I will have no man meddle with the hour of my death; no one shall +either hurry or delay it." + +"The doctor might give you some ease from your sore pain." + +"I will bear His will to the uttermost. But come near to me, David; I +have some last words to say, and there is One at my side hasting me +forward." + +"Tell me your wish now, father. I will do all that you desire." + +"When you have put me in my grave, go to Shetland for me. I thought +to do my own errand--to get there just in time to do it, and die; +but it is hard counting with Death--he comes sooner than you expect. +David, I have brought you up in the way of life. Think no wrong of +me when I am gone away forever. Indeed, you'll not dare to," he said +with a sudden flash of natural pride in himself; "for though I may +have had a sore downfall, I could not get away from His love and +favor." + +"None living shall say wrong of you in my hearing, father." + +"But, David, there are those of the unregenerate who would make +much of my little slip. I might die, lad, and say nothing to any +man about it. Put a few peats on the fire; death is cold, and my feet +are in the grave already; so I may tell the truth now, for at this +hour no man can make me afraid. And there is no sin, I hope, in +letting Matilda Sabiston know, if she is still alive, that I owe Bele +Trenby nothing for the wrong he did me. St. Paul left the Almighty +to pay the ill-will he owed Alexander the coppersmith; but I could +not ask that much favor, being only Liot Borson; and no doubt the +Lord suffered me to pay my own debt--time and place being put so +unexpected into my hand." + +Then he was awfully silent. The mortal agony was dealing its last +sharp blows, and every instinct impelled him to cry out against the +torment. But Liot Borson had put his mortality beneath his feet; +nothing could have forced a cry from him. His face changed as a +green leaf might change if a hot iron was passed over it; but he sat +grasping the rude arms of his wooden chair, disdaining the torture +while it lasted, and smiling triumphantly as it partly passed away. + +"A few more such pangs and the fight will be over, David. So I will +swither and scruple no longer; I will tell the whole truth about +the drowning of Bele Trenby. Bele and I were never friends; but I +hated him when he began to meddle between me and Karen Sabiston. He +had no shadow of right to do so, for I had set my heart on her and +she had given me her promise; and I said then, and I say it now +with death at my elbow, that he had no right to step between me +and Karen. Yet he tried to do that thing, and if it had not been +for the minister I had stabbed him to his false heart. But the +minister bade me do no wrong, because I was of the household of +faith, and a born and baptized child of God, having come--mind +this, David--of generations of his saints. He said if Bele had done +me wrong, wrong would come to Bele, and I would live to see it." + +"'Vengeance is Mine; I will repay'," quoted David, in a low voice. +But Liot answered sharply: + +"The Lord sends by whom he will send. And it so happened that one +night, as Bele and I were walking together, I knew the hour had come." + +"You took not the matter in your own hands surely, father?" + +"There was none there but me. I laid no finger on him; he fell into +his own snare. I had said a thousand times--and the Lord had heard me +say it--that if one word of mine would save Bele Trenby from death, +I would not say that one word. Could I break my oath for a child +of the Evil One? Had Bele been of the elect I would have borne +that in mind; but Bele came of bad stock; pirates and smugglers were +his forebears, and the women not to name with the God-fearing--light +and vain women. So I hated Bele, and I had a right to hate him; +and one night, as I walked from Quarf to Lerwick, Bele came to my +side and said, 'Good evening, Liot.' And I said, 'It is dark,' and +spoke no more. And by and by we came to a stream swollen with rain +and snow-water, and Bele said, 'Here is the crossing.' And I answered +him not, for I knew it was _not_ the crossing. So as I delayed a +little--for my shoe-string was loose--Bele said again, 'Here is the +crossing.' And I told him neither yes nor no. And he said to me, +'It seemeth, Liot, thou art in a devil's temper, and I will stay no +longer with thee.' And with the ill words on his lips he strode +into the stream, and then overhead into the moss he went, and so +to his own place." + +"Father, I am feared for a thing like that. There would be sin in it." + +"I lifted no finger against him; my lips lied not. It was the working +out of his own sin that slew him." + +"I would have warned him--yes, I would. Let me go for the minister; +he will not be feared to say, 'Liot, you did wrong,' if so he thinks." + +"I have had my plea out with my Maker. If I did sin, I have paid +the price of the sin. Your mother was given to me, and in two years +the Lord took her away. I thought to fill my eyes with a sight +of the whole world, and I was sent to this desolate place for a +life-sentence, to bide its storm and gloom and gust and poverty, and +in this bit cabin to dree a long, fierce wrestle with Death, knowing +all the time he would get the mastery over me in the end." Then, +suddenly pausing, his gray face glowed with passionate rapture, +and lifting up his right hand he cried out: "No, no, David; _I_ am +the conqueror! There are two ways of dying, my lad--victory and +defeat. Thank God, I have the victory through Jesus Christ, my +Lord and Saviour!" + +"Who is the propitiation for all sin, father." + +"Sin!" cried the dying man, "sin! I have nothing to do with sin. 'Who +shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?' for, 'Whosoever is +born of God doth not commit sin--he cannot sin, for he is born of +God.' I did indeed make a sore stumble; so also did David, and +natheless he was a man after God's own heart. What has man to do +with my fault? _He_ has entered into judgment with me, and I have +gladly borne the hand of the smiter." + +"Gladly, father?" + +"Ay, David, gladly. For had I not been _his_ son, he would have 'let +me alone,' as he does those joined to their idols; but because he +loved me he chastised me; and I have found that his rod as well as +his staff can comfort in affliction. Some of his bairns deserve and +get the rod of iron. Be good, David, and he will stretch out to you +only his golden scepter." + +"And also you have the Intercessor." + +"If I had not I would plead my own cause, as Job did. I would rise +up and answer him like a man, for he is a just God. Mercy may have +times and seasons, but justice is the same yesterday, to-day, and +forever. 'Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?'" + +"Would you say that, father, if justice sent you to the place of +torment?" + +"Ay, would I! 'Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' But I +am not fearing the place of torment, David. And as for this world, +it is at my feet like a cast-off shoe, and all its gold and gear is +as the wrack of the sea. But you will find a few sovereigns in my +chest, and a letter for your cousin Paul Borson; and the ship and +the house you may do your will with." + +"It is your will in all things that I care to do, father. And now, +if you would but let me away for the minister, maybe you could say +a word to him you are not caring to say to me--a word of sorrow or +remorse--" + +"Remorse! remorse! No, no, David! Remorse is for feeble souls; +remorse is the virtue of hell; remorse would sin again if it could. +I have repented, David, and repentance ends all. See to your Larger +Catechism, David--Question 76." + +Throughout this conversation speech had been becoming more and +more painful to him. The last words were uttered in gasps of +unconquerable agony, and a mortal spasm gave a terrible emphasis +to this spiritual conviction. When it had passed he whispered +faintly, "The pains of hell get hold on me--on my body, David; they +cannot touch my soul. Lay me down now--at His feet--I can sit in +my chair no longer." + +So David laid him in his bunk. "Shall I say _the words_ now--the +words you marked, father?" he asked. + +"Ay; the hour has come." + +Then David knelt down and put his young, fresh face very close to the +face of the dying man, and said solemnly and clearly in his very ear +the chosen words of trust: + + "When the waves of death compassed me; + + "When the sorrows of hell compassed me about, and the snares + of death prevented me, + + "In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried to my God: + and he did hear my voice out of his temple, and my cry did + enter into his ears." + + * * * * * + + "The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat + hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. + + "Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech + thee, deliver my soul.... + + "Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt + bountifully with thee. + + "For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from + tears, and my feet from falling.... + + "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." + +Here David ceased. It was evident that the mighty words were no +longer necessary. A smile, such as is never seen on mortal face until +the light of eternity falls upon it, illumined the gaunt, stern +features, and the outlooking eyes flashed a moment in its radiance. A +solemn calm, a certain pomp of conscious grandeur in his victory +over death and the grave, encompassed the dying man, and gave to +the prone figure a majestic significance. As far as this world was +concerned, Liot Borson was a dead man. For two days he lingered on +life's outermost shoal, but at sunrise the third morning he went +silently away. It was full tide; the waves broke softly on the +shingle, and the sea-birds on the lonely rocks were crying for +their meat from God. Suddenly the sunshine filled the cabin, and +David was aware of something more than the morning breeze coming +through the wide-open door. A sense of lofty _presence_ filled the +place. "It is the flitting," he said with a great awe; and he stood +up with bowed head until a feeling of indescribable loneliness +testified that the soul which had hitherto dwelt with him was gone +away forever. + +He went then to the body. Death had given it dignity and grandeur. It +was evident that in Liot's case the great change had meant victory +and not defeat. Almost for the first time in his life David kissed +his father. Then he went into Uig and told the minister, and said +simply to his mates, "My father is dead." And they answered: + +"It is a happy change for him, David. Is it to-morrow afternoon you +would like us to come?" + +And David said: "Yes; at three o'clock the minister will be there." + +He declined all companionship; he could wake alone with the dead. +For the most part he sat on the door-step and watched the rising and +setting of the constellations, or walked to and fro before the open +door, ever awfully aware of that outstretched form, the house of +clay in which his father and companion had dwelt so many years at +his side. Sometimes he slept a little with his head against the post +of the door, and then the sudden waking in the starlight made him +tremble. + +He had thought this night would be a session of solemnity never +to be forgotten; but he found himself dozing and his thoughts +drifting, and it was only by an effort that he could compel anything +like the attitude he desired. For we cannot kindle when we will +the sacred fire of the soul. And David was disappointed in his +spiritual experience, and shocked at what he called his coldness and +indifference, which, after all, were not coldness and indifference, +but the apathy of exhausted feeling and physical weariness. + +The next afternoon there was a quiet gathering in the cabin that +had been Liot's, and a little prayer and admonition; then, in the +beauteous stillness of the summer day, the fishers made a bier of +their crossed oars, and David laid his father upon it. There was no +coffin; the long, majestic figure of humanity was only folded close +in a winding-sheet and his own blue blanket. So, by the sea-shore, +as the tide murmured and the sun glinted brightly through swirling +banks of gray clouds, they carried him to his long home. No one +spoke as he entered it. The minister dropped his kerchief upon +the upturned face, and David cast the first earth. Then the dead +man's friends, each taking the spade in his turn, filled in the +empty place, and laid over it the sod, and went silently away in +twos and threes, each to his own home. + +When all had disappeared, David followed. He had now an irresistible +impulse to escape from his old surroundings. He did not feel as if he +cared to see again any one who had been a part of his past. He +went back to the cabin, ate some bread and fish, and then with a +little reluctance opened his father's chest. There was small wealth +in it--only some letters, and Liot's kirk clothes, and a leather +purse containing sixteen sovereigns. David saw at a glance that the +letters were written by his mother. He wondered a moment if his +father had yet found her again, and then he kissed the bits of +faded script and laid them upon the glowing peats. The money he +put in his pocket, and the chest and clothing he resolved to take +to Shetland with him. As for the cabin, he decided to give it to +Bella Campbell. "She was sore put to it last winter to shelter +her five fatherless bairns; and if my father liked any one more than +others, it was Angus Campbell," he thought. + +Then he went out and looked at the boat. "It is small," he said, +"but it will carry me to Shetland. I can keep in the shadows of the +shore. And though it is a far sail round Cape Wrath and Dunnet Head, +it is summer weather, and I'll win my way if it so pleases God." + +And thus it happened that on the first day of August this lonely +wayfarer on cheerless seas caught sight of the gray cliffs of the +Shetlands, lying like dusky spots in the sapphire and crimson +splendors of the setting sun. + + + + +Book Second + + +DAVID BORSON + + + + +BOOK SECOND + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + V. A New Life 85 + + VI. Kindred--the Quick and the Dead 107 + + VII. So Far and No Farther 127 + + VIII. The Justification of Death 144 + + IX. A Sacrifice Accepted 169 + + X. In the Fourth Watch 192 + + XI. The Lowest Hell 210 + + XII. "At Last it is Peace" 220 + + + + +V + +A NEW LIFE + + +Between David and the misty Hebrides there was now many a league of +the separating, changeful, dangerous, tragic sea, but the journey +over this great waterway had been a singularly fortunate one. +David, indeed, had frequently likened himself to the young Tobias +on a similar errand; for his father had particularly pointed out +this history, and had read aloud to him with an emphasis not to +be forgotten the old Hebrew father's parting charge: "Go! and +God, which dwelleth in heaven, prosper your journey, and the angel +of God keep you company." + +To David this angelic companionship was no impossible hope and +reliance. As the south winds drove him north and the west winds sent +him east just at the proper times, he believed that some wise and +powerful pilot stood at the wheel unseen; and he went about his boat +with the cheerful confidence of a child who is sure his father can +take care of him. Sometimes he kept so close to the shore that he +rippled the shadows of the great cliffs, and sometimes he ran into +little coves and replenished his water-casks, or bought in the +seaward clachans a supply of fresh cakes or fish. He met no very bad +weather. The unutterable desolation of the misty miles of sullen +water did give him times of such weariness as makes the soul sink +back upon itself and retire from all hope and affection. But such +hours were evanescent; they were usually ended by a brisk wind, +bringing peril to the little bark, and then David's first instinct +was heavenward. He knew if the winds and waves rose mightily, as it +was their wont in that locality, there was no human help, and +his trust was instantly in the miraculous. Such hours were, however, +rare. As a general thing the days and the nights followed each +other with a stillness and beauty full of the presence of God. And in +the sweetness of this presence he threw himself unperplexed upon +infinite love and power, and seeking God with all his heart found him. + +Also, he was not forgetful of the human interest of his journey. His +father had always felt himself to be a stranger and an exile in +Skye, and in his later years the "homing" instinct for the Shetlands +had been a passionate longing, which had communicated itself to +David. He had been glad to leave Uig, for he had not a single happy +memory of the little hut in which they two had dwelt and suffered +together. As for the bleak kirkyard, over which the great winds blew +the sea-foam, it made his heart ache to remember it. He felt an +unspeakable pity when he thought of one of its solitary graves, +and he promised himself to sail back to Uig some day, and bring +home the dust of his father, and lay it among his kindred. + +Indeed, it was thoughts of home and kindred which made this long, +lonely voyage happy and hopeful to David. He believed himself to be +going home. Though his father at the last had not spoken much of +his cousin Paul Borson, and though David had not found the letter +which was to be his introduction to him, yet he had not a doubt +of his welcome. Time might wither friendship and slay love, but +his kindred were always his kindred; they were bound to him by the +ineffaceable and imperishable ties of blood and race. + +David approached Lerwick in that divine twilight which in the +Shetland summer links day unto day; and in its glory the ancient +homes of gray and white sandstone appeared splendid habitations. +The town was very quiet; even the houses seemed to be asleep. He +saw no living thing but a solitary sea-gull skimming the surface +of the sea; he heard nothing but a drunken sailor fitfully singing a +stave of "The Skaalds of Foula." The clear air, the serene seas, the +tranquil grandeur of the caverned rocks which guard the lonely +isles, charmed him. And when the sun rose and he saw their mural +fronts of porphyry, carved by storms into ten thousand castles +in the air, and cloud-like palaces still more fantastic, he felt his +heart glow for the land of his birth and the home of his forefathers. + +To the tumult of almost impossible hopes, he brought in his little +craft. He had felt certain that his appearance would awaken at +once interest and speculation; that Paul Borson would hear of his +arrival and come running to meet him; that his father's old friends, +catching the news, would stop him on the quay and the street, and ask +him questions and give him welcome. He had also told himself that +it was likely his father's cousin would have sons and daughters, +and if so, that they would certainly be glad to see him; besides +which there was his mother's family--the old Icelandic Sabistons. He +was resolved to seek them all out, rich or poor, far or near; in +his heart there was love enough and to spare, however distant the +kinship might be. + +For David's conceptions of the family and racial tie were not +only founded upon the wide Hebraic ideals, but his singularly +lonely youth and affectionate nature had disposed him to make an +exaggerated estimate of the obligations of kindred. And again, +this personal leaning was greatly strengthened by the inherited +tendency of Norse families to "stand by each other in all haps." +Therefore he felt sure of his welcome; for, though Paul was but +his far-off cousin, they were both Borsons, sprung from the same +Norse root, children of the same great ancestor, the wise and brave +Norwegian Bor. + +Lying in the Bay of Lerwick, the sense of security and of nearness +to friends gave him what he had long missed--a night of deep, +dreamless sleep. When he awoke it was late in the morning, and he had +his breakfast to prepare and every spar and sail and rope to put in +perfect order; then he dressed himself with care, and sailed +into harbor, managing his boat with a deftness and skill he expected +a town of fishermen and sailors to take notice of. Alas, it is so +difficult to find a fortunate hour! David's necessary delay had +brought the morning nearly to the noon, and he could hardly have +fallen on a more depressing time; for the trade of the early +morning was over, and the men were in their houses taking that +sleep which those who work by night must secure in the daytime. +The fishing-boats, all emptied of their last night's "take" and +cleaned, were idly rocking on the water. The utmost quiet reigned +in the sunny streets, and the little pier was deserted. No one +took any notice of David. + +Greatly disappointed, and even wounded, by this very natural +neglect, David made fast his boat and stepped on shore. He put his +feet down firmly, as if he was taking possession of his own, and +stood still and looked around. He saw a man with his hands in his +pockets loitering down the street, and he went toward him; but as +he came within speaking distance the man turned into a house and +shut the door. Pained and curious, he continued his aimless walk. +As he passed Fae's store he heard the confused sound of a number of +men talking, then silence, then the tingling notes of a fiddle very +cleverly played. For a moment he was bewitched by the music; then he +was sure that nothing but the little sinful fiddle of carnal +dance and song could make sounds so full of temptation. And as +Odysseus, passing the dwelling-place of the sirens, "closed his +ears and went swiftly by, singing the praises of the gods," so +David, remembering his father's counsels, closed his ears to the +enchanting strains and hastened beyond their power to charm him. + +A little farther on a lovely girl, with her water-pitcher on her +head and her knitting in her hands, met him. She looked with a shy +smile at David, and the glance from her eyes made him thrill with +pleasure; but before he had a word ready she had passed, and he +could only turn and look at her tall form and the heavy braids of +pale-brown hair below the water-pitcher. He felt as if he were in a +dream as he went onward again down the narrow street of gray and +white houses--houses so tall, and so fantastic, and so much larger +than he had ever seen, that they impressed him with a sense of +grandeur in which he had neither right nor place; for, though he +saw women moving about within them and children sitting on the +door-steps, no one spoke to him, no one seemed interested in his +presence; and yet he had come to them with a heart so full of love! +Never for a moment did he reflect that his anticipations had rested +only on his own desires and imaginations. + +His disappointment made him sorrowful, but in no degree resentful. +"It was not to be," he decided. Then he resolved to return to a +public house he had noticed by the pier. There he could get his +dinner and make some inquiries about his kindred. As he turned he met +face to face a middle-aged woman with a basket of turf on her back. + +"Take care, my lad," she said cheerfully; and her smile inspired +David with confidence. + +"Mother," he said, doffing his cap with instinctive politeness, +"mother, I am a stranger, and I want to find my father's people--the +Borsons. Where do they live?" + +"My lad, the sea has them. It is Paul Borson you are asking for?" + +"Yes, mother." + +"He went out in his boat with his four sons one night. The boat came +back empty. It is two years since." + +[Illustration: "'I WANT TO FIND MY FATHER'S PEOPLE.'"] + +"I am Liot Borson's son." + +"You?" + +"Yes. Have I any kin left?" + +"There is your far-cousin Nanna. She was Paul's one daughter, and he +saw the sun shine through her eyes. She is but sadly off now. Come +into my house, and I will give you a cup of tea and a mouthful of +bread and fish. Thank God, there is enough for you and for me!" + +"I will come," said David, simply; and he took the basket from the +woman, and flung it lightly over his own shoulder. Then they went +together to a house in one of the numerous "closes" running from +the main street to the ocean. It was a very small house, but it was +clean, and was built upon a rock, the foundations of which were +deep down in the sea. When the tide was full David could have sailed +his boat under its small seaward window. It contained a few pieces +of handsome furniture, and some old Delft earthenware which had +been brought from Holland by seafaring kindred long ago; all else +savored of narrow means. + +But the woman set before David a pot of tea and some oat-cake, and +she fried him a fresh herring, and he ate with the delayed hunger of +healthy youth, heartily and with pleasure. And as he did so she +talked to him of his father Liot, whom she had known in her girlhood; +and David told her of Liot's long, hard fight with death, and she +said with a kind of sad pride: + +"Yes; that way Liot was sure to fare to his long home. He would set +his teeth and fight for his life. Was it always well between him and +you?" + +"He was hard and silent, but I could always lean on him as much as +I liked." + +"That is a good deal to say." + +"So I think." + +Then they drew the past from the eternity into which it had fallen, +that they two, brought so strangely together, might look at it +between them. They talked of Liot's hard life and hard death for +an hour, and then the woman said: + +"Paul Borson was of the same kind--silent, but full of deeds; and +his daughter Nanna, she also has a great heart." + +"Show me now where she lives, and I will go and see her. Also, tell +me your name." + +"I am Barbara Traill. When you have seen Nanna come back here, and I +will give you a place to sleep and a little meat; and as soon as it +is well with you it will be easy to pay my charges." + +"If there is no room for me in my cousin's house I will come back +to you." + +So Barbara walked with him to the end of the street, and pointed out +a little group of huts on the distant moor. + +"Go into the first one," she said; "it is Nanna Sinclair's. And be +sure and keep to the trodden path, for outside of it there are bogs +that no man knows the bottom of." + +Then David went forward alone, and his heart fell, and a somber look +crept like a cloud over his face. This was not the home-coming he +had anticipated--this poor meal at a stranger's fireside. He had +been led to think that his cousin Paul had a large house and the +touch of money-getting. "He and his will be well off," Liot had +affirmed more than once. And one day, while he yet could stand in +the door of his hut, he had looked longingly northward and said, +"Oh, if I could win home again! Paul would make a fourteen days' +feast to welcome me." + +The very vagueness of these remarks had given strength to David's +imagination. He had hoped for things larger than his knowledge, +and he had quite forgotten to take into his calculations the fact +that as the years wear on they wear out love and life, and leave +little but graves behind them. At this hour he felt his destiny to be +hard and unlovely, and the text learned as one of the pillars of his +faith, "Jacob have I loved, Esau have I hated," forced itself upon +his reflection. A deadly fear came into his heart that the Borsons +were among these hated ones. Why else did God pursue them with such +sufferings and fatalities? And what could he do to propitiate this +unfriendly Deity? + +His road was upon the top of the cliff, over a moor covered with +peat-bogs and withered heather. The sea was below him, and a long, +narrow lake lay silent and motionless among the dangerous moss--a +lake so old and dead-looking that it might have been the shadow of a +lake that once was. Nothing green was near it, and no birds were +tempted by its sullen waters; yet untold myriads of sea-birds +floated and wheeled between sea and sky, and their hungry, melancholy +cries and the desolate landscape stimulated and colored David's +sad musings, though he was quite unaware of their influence. + +When he came to the group of huts, he paused a moment. They were +the abodes of poverty; there was none better than the rest. But +Barbara had said that Nanna's was the first one, and he went slowly +toward it. No one appeared, though the door stood wide open; but +when he reached the threshold he could see Nanna sitting within. +She was busily braiding the fine Tuscan straw for which Shetland +was then famous, and her eyes were so intently following her rapid +fingers that it was unlikely she had seen him coming. Indeed, she did +not raise them at once, for it was necessary to leave her work at +a certain point; and in that moment's delay David looked with a +breathless wonder at the woman before him. + +She was sitting, and yet even sitting she was majestic. Her face +was large, but perfectly oval, and fair as a lily; her bright-brown +hair was parted, passed smoothly behind the ears, and beautifully +braided. Serenity and an unalterable calm gave to the young face +something of the fixity of marble; but as David spoke she let her +eyes fall upon a little child at her feet, and then lifted them to +him with a smile as radiant and life-giving as sunshine. + +"Who are you?" she asked, as she took her babe in her arms and went +toward David. + +"I am your far-cousin David Borson." + +"The son of my father's cousin Liot?" + +"Yes. Liot Borson is dead, and here am I." + +"You are welcome, for you were to come. My father talked often of +his cousin Liot. They are both gone away from this world." + +"I think they have found each other again. Who can tell?" + +"Among the great multitude that no man can number, it might not be +easy." + +"If God willed it so?" + +"That would be sufficient. This is your little cousin Vala; she is +nearly two years old. Is she not very pretty?" + +"I know not what to say. She is too pretty for words." + +"Sit down, cousin, and tell me all." + +And as they talked her eyes enthralled him. They were deep blue, +and had a solar brilliancy as if they imbibed light--holy eyes, with +the slow-moving pupils that indicate a religious, perhaps a mystical, +soul. David sat with her until sunset, and she gave him a simple +meal of bread and tea, and talked confidentially to him of Liot and +of her own father and brothers. But of herself she said nothing at +all; neither could David find courage to ask her a single question. + +He watched her sing her child to sleep, and he sat down with her +on the door-step, and they talked softly together of death and of +judgment to come. And the women from the other huts gradually joined +them, and the soft Shetland night glorified the somber land and +the mysterious sea, until at last David rose and said he must go +back to Lerwick, for the day was over. + +A strange day it had been to him; but he was too primitive to +attempt any reasoning about its events. When he left Nanna's he was +under that strong excitement which makes a man walk as if he were +treading upon the void, and there was a hot confusion in his thoughts +and feelings. He stepped rapidly, and the stillness of the lovely +night did not soothe or reason with him. As he approached the town +he saw the fishing-boats leaving the harbor, and in the fairy light +they looked like living things with outspread wings. Two fishers +were standing at a house door with a woman, who was filling a +glass. She held it aloft a moment, and then gave it to one with +the words: "Death to the heads that wear no hair!" + +"The herring and the halibut, the haddock and the sole," answered the +man; and he drank a little, and passed it to his comrade. Then up +the street they hurried like belated men; and David felt the urging +of accustomed work, and a sense of delinquency in his purposeless +hands. + +He found Barbara waiting. She knew that he would not stay at Nanna +Sinclair's, and she had prepared the room of her absent son for him. +"If he can pay one shilling a day, it will be a godsend to me," she +thought; and when she told David so he answered, "That is a little +matter, and no doubt there will be good between us." + +He saw then that the window was open, and the sea-water lippering +nearly to the sill of it; and he took off his bonnet, and sat +down, and let the cool breeze blow upon his hot brow. It was near +midnight, but what then? David had never been more awake in all his +life--yes, awake to his finger-tips. Yet for half an hour he sat +by the window and never opened his mouth; and Barbara sat on the +hearth, and raked the smoldering peats together, and kept a like +silence. She was well used to talk with her own thoughts, and to +utter words was no necessity to Barbara Traill; but she knew what +David was thinking of, and she was quite prepared for the first +word which parted his set lips. + +"Is my cousin Nanna a widow?" + +"No." + +"Where, then, is her husband?" + +"Who can tell? He is gone away from Shetland, and no one is sorry for +that." + +"One thing is sure--Nanna is poor, and she is in trouble. How comes +that? Who is to blame in the matter?" + +"Nicol Sinclair--he, and he only. Sorrow and suffering and ill luck +of all kinds he has brought her, and there is no help for it." + +"No help for it! I shall see about that." + +"You had best let Nicol Sinclair alone. He is one of the worst of +men, a son of the devil--no, the very devil himself. And he has your +kinswoman Matilda Sabiston at his back. All the ill he does to Nanna +he does to please her. To be sure, the guessing is not all that way, +but yet most people think Matilda is much to blame." + +"How came Nanna Borson to marry such a man? Was not her father alive? +Had she no brothers to stand between her and this son of the Evil +One?" + +"When Nanna Borson took hold of Nicol Sinclair for a husband she +thought she had taken hold of heaven; and he was not unkind to her +until after the drowning of her kin. Then he took her money and +traded with it to Holland, and lost it all there, and came back +bare and empty-handed. And when he entered his home there was the +baby girl, and Nanna out of her mind with fever and like to die, +and not able to say a word this way or that. And Nicol wanted money, +and he went to Matilda Sabiston and he got what he wanted; but what +was then said no one knows, for ever since he has hated the Borsons, +root and branch, and his own wife and child have borne the weight of +it. That is not all." + +"Tell me all, then; but make no more of it than it is worth." + +"There is little need to do that. Before Nanna was strong again he +sold the house which Paul Borson had given to her as a marriage +present. He sold also all the plenishing, and whatever else he +could lay his hands on. Then he set sail; but there was little +space between two bad deeds, for no sooner was he home again than +he took the money Paul Borson had put in the bank for his daughter, +and when no one saw him--in the night-time--he slipped away with a +sound skin, the devil knows where he went to." + +"Were there no men in Lerwick at that time?" + +"Many men were in Lerwick--men, too, who never get to their feet +for nothing; and no man was so well hated as Nicol Sinclair. But +Nanna said: 'I have had sorrow enough. If you touch him you touch +me ten-fold. He has threatened me and the child with measureless +evil if I say this or that against anything he does.' And as every +one knows, when Nicol is angry the earth itself turns inside out +before him." + +"I do not fear him a jot--not I!" + +"If you had ever seen him swaggering and rolling from one day into +another, if you had ever seen him stroking his bare arms and peering +round with wicked eyes for some one to ease him of his temper, you +would not say such words." + +"I will not call my words back for much more than that, and I will +follow up this quarrel." + +"If you are foolish, you may do so; if you are wise, you will be +neither for nor against Nicol Sinclair. There is a wide and a safe +way between these two. Let me tell you, Nanna's life lies in it. I +have not yet told you all." + +"Speak the last word, then." + +"Think what cruel things a bad man can always do to a good woman; +all of them Nicol Sinclair has done to your cousin Nanna. Yes, it is +so. When she was too weak to hold her baby in her arms he bade her +'die, and make way for a better woman.' And one night he lured her +to the cliff-top, and then and there he quarreled with her; and men +think--yes, and women think so too--that he threw the child into +the water, and that Nanna leaped after it. That was the story in +every one's mouth." + +"Was it true? Tell me that." + +"There was more than guesswork to go on. Magnus Crawford took them +out of the sea, and the child was much hurt, for it has never walked, +nor yet spoken a word, and there are those who say it never will." + +"And what said my cousin Nanna?" + +"She held her peace both to men and women; but what she said to God +on the matter he knows. It is none of thy business. She has grown +stronger and quieter with every sorrow; and it is out of a mother's +strength, I tell thee, and not her weakness, that good can come." + +Then David rose to his feet and began to walk furiously about the +small room. His face was white as death, and he spoke with a still +intensity, dropping each word as if it were a separate oath. + +"I wish that Sinclair were here--in this room! I would lay his neck +across my knee, and break it like a dog's. I would that!" + +"It would be a joy to see thee do it. I would say, 'Well done, David +Borson!'" + +"I am glad that God has made Tophet for such men!" cried David, +passionately. "Often I have trembled at the dreadful justice of +the Holy One; I see now how good it is. To be sure, when God puts +his hook into the nose of the wicked, and he is made to go a way +he does not want to go, then he has to cease from troubling. But I +wish not that he may cease from being troubled. No, indeed; I wish +that he may have weeping and wailing! I will stay here. Some day +Sinclair will come back; then he shall pay all he owes." + +Suddenly David remembered his father's sad confession, and he was +silent. The drowning of Bele Trenby and all that followed it flashed +like a fiery thought through his heart, and he went into his room, +and shut the door, and flung himself face downward upon the floor. +Would God count his anger as very murder? Would he enter into +judgment with him for it? Oh, how should a sinful man order all his +way and words aright! And in a little while Barbara heard him +weeping, and she said to herself: + +[Illustration: NANNA AND VALA] + +"He is a good man. God loves those who remember him when they are +alone and weep. The minister said that." + +This day had indeed been to David a kind of second birth. He had +entered into a new life and taken possession of himself. He knew +that he was a different being from the youth who had sailed for weeks +alone with God upon the great waters; but still he was a riddle to +himself, and it was this feeling of utter confusion and weakness and +ignorance that had sent him, weeping and speechless, to the very +feet of the divine Father. + +But if the mind is left quite passive we are often instructed in +our sleep. David awakened with a plan of life clearly in his mind. He +resolved to remain with Barbara Traill, and follow his occupation +of fishing, and do all that he could to make his cousin Nanna +happy. The intense strength of his family affection led him to +this resolve. He had not fallen in love with Nanna. As a wife +she was sacred in his eyes, and it never entered his mind that any +amount of ill treatment could lessen Sinclair's claim upon her. But +though far off, she was his cousin; the blood of the Borsons flowed +alike through both their hearts; and David, who could feel for +all humanity, could feel most of all for Nanna and Vala. + +Nanna herself had acknowledged this claim. He remembered how gladly +she had welcomed him; he could feel yet the warm clasp of her hand, +and the shining of her eyes was like nothing he had ever before seen. +Even little Vala had been pleased to lie in his strong arms. She +had put up her small mouth for him to kiss, and had slept an hour +upon his breast. As he thought of that kiss he felt it on his lips, +warm and sweet. Yes, indeed; there was love in that poor little hut +that David Borson could not bear to lose. + +So he said to Barbara in the morning: "I will stay with you while +it pleases us both." + +And Barbara answered: "A great help and comfort thou wilt be to me, +and doubtless God sent thee." + + + + +VI + +KINDRED--THE QUICK AND THE DEAD + + +Shetland was, then, to be David's home, and he accepted the destiny +gladly. He felt near to the people, and he admired the old gray +town, with its roving, adventurous population. His first duty was +to remove his personal belongings from his boat to Barbara Traill's +house, and when this was done it was easy enough to set himself to +business; for as soon as he went among the fishers and said, "My name +is Borson, and I am the son of your old mate Liot Borson," he found +himself in a circle of outstretched hands. And as he had brought +his nets and lines with him, he had no difficulty in getting men +who were glad to help him with his fishing, and to instruct him in +the peculiarities of the coast and the set of its tides and currents. + +For the rest, there was no sailor or fisher in Lerwick who was so +fearless and so wise in all sea-lore as David Borson. Sink or swim, +he was every inch a seaman. He read the sea as a landsman reads +a book; he knew all its moods and its deceitfulness, and the more +placid it was the more David mistrusted its intentions; he was +always watching it. The men of Uig had been wont to say that David +Borson would not turn his back on the sea, lest it should get some +advantage over him. This intimacy of mistrust was the result of his +life's training; it was the practical education of nearly twenty +years. + +His next move was to see the minister and present to him the letter +from the minister of Uig, which authenticated his kirk standing and +his moral character. He put on his kirk clothes for this call, and +was sorry afterward that he had so hampered himself; for the good +man met him with both hands outstretched, and blessed him in the name +of the Lord. + +"I married your father and mother, David," he said. "I baptized you +into the fold of Lerwick kirk, and I buried your sweet mother in its +quiet croft. Your father was near to me and dear to me. A good man +was Liot Borson--a good man! When that is said, what more is left to +say? While my life-days last I shall not forget Liot Borson." And +then they talked of David's life in Uig, and when he left the manse +he knew that he had found a friend. + +It was then Thursday night, and he did not care to go to the fishing +until the following Monday. Before he began to serve himself he +wished to serve God, and so handsel his six days' work by the +blessing of the seventh. This was the minister's advice to him, and +he found that every one thought it right and good; so, though he +made his boat ready for sea, she was not to try her speed and luck +on her new fishing-ground until David had offered up thanksgiving +for his safe journey, and supplications for grace and wisdom to +guide his new life aright. + +"There is no more that I can do now until the early tide on Monday +morning," he said to Barbara Traill, "and I will see if I can find +any more of my kin-folk. Are any of my mother's family yet living?" + +"The Sabistons have all gone south to the Orkneys. They are handy +at money-getting, and the rumor goes abroad that they are rich and +masterful, and ill to deal with; but they were ever all that, or the +old tellings-up do them much wrong." + +"Few people are better spoken of than they deserve." + +"That is so. Yet no one in Lerwick is so well hated as your +great-aunt Matilda Sabiston. She is the last of the family left in +Shetland. Go and see her if you wish to; I have nothing to say +against it; but I can give you a piece of advice: lean not for +anything on Matilda Sabiston." + +"All I want of her is a little love for my mother's sake; so I will +go and see her. For the sake of the dead she will at least be civil." + +"Nothing will come of the visit. It is not to be expected that +Matilda will behave well to you, when she behaves ill to every +one else." + +"For all that, I would like to look upon her. We are blood-kin. I +have a right to see her face; I have a right to offer her my service +and my duty; whether she will take it or throw it from her is to be +seen." + +"She will _not_ take it. However, here is your dinner ready, and +after you have eaten it go and see your kinswoman. You will easily +find her; she lives in the largest house in Lerwick." + +The little opposition to his desires confirmed David in his resolve. +When he had eaten, and dressed himself in his best clothing, he +went to Matilda Sabiston's house. It was a large stone dwelling, +and had been famous for the unusual splendor of its furnishing. +David was astonished and interested, but not in the least abashed; +for the absorbing idea in his mind was that of kindred, and the soft +carpets, the velvet-covered chairs and sofas, the pictures and +ornaments, were only the accessories of the condition. An old woman, +grim and of few words, opened the heavy door, and then tottered +slowly along a narrow flagged passage before him until they came +to a somberly furnished parlor, where Mistress Sabiston was sitting, +apparently asleep. + +"Wake up, mistress," said the woman. "Here be some one that wants +to see you." + +"A beggar, then, either for kirk or town. I have nothing to give." + +"Not so; he is a fair, strong lad, who says you are his aunt." + +"He lies, whoever he is. Let me see the fool, Anita." + +"Here he is, mistress. Let him speak for himself." And Anita stood +aside and permitted David to enter the room. + +Matilda sat in a large, uncushioned chair of black wood--the chair +of her fore-elder Olaf, who had made it in Iceland from some rare +drift, and brought it with his other household goods to Shetland ten +generations past. It was a great deal too large for her shrunken +form, and her old, old face against its blackness looked as if +it had been carved out of the yellow ivory of Sudan. Never had +David seen a countenance so void of expression; it was like a scroll +made unreadable by the wear and dust of years. Life appeared to +have retreated entirely to her eyes, which were fierce and darkly +glowing. And the weight and coldness of her great age communicated +itself; he was chilled by her simple presence. + +"What is your business?" she asked. + +"I am the son of your niece Karen." + +"I have no niece." + +"Yea, but you have. Death breaks no kinship. It is souls that are +related, not bodies; and souls live forever." + +"Babble! In a word, what brought you here?" + +"I came only to see you." + +"Well, then, I sent not for you." + +"Yet I thought you would wish to see me." + +"I do not." + +"Liot Borson is dead." + +"I am glad of it. He was a murderer while he lived, and now I hope +that he is a soul in pain forevermore." + +"I am his son, and you must not--" + +"Then what brought you here? I have hoped you were dead for many a +year. If all the Borsons, root and branch, were gone to their father +the devil, it would be a pleasure to me. I have ever hated them; +to all who knew them they were bringers of bad luck," she muttered +angrily, looking into David's face with eyes full of baleful fire. + +"Yet is love stronger than hate, and because my mother was of your +blood and kin I will not hate you." + +"Hear a wonder!" she screamed. "The man will not hate me. Son of a +murderer, I want not one kind thought from you." + +"There is no cause to call my father what neither God nor man has +called him." + +"Cause enough! I know that right well." + +"Then it is only right you give proof of such assertions. Say what +you mean and be done with it." + +"Ah! you are getting angry at last. Your father would have been +spitting fire before this. But it was not with fire he slew Bele +Trenby--no, indeed; it was with water. Did he not tell you so when +he stood on the brink of Tophet?" + +"God did not suffer his soul to be led near the awful place. When he +gave up his ghost he gave it up to the merciful Father of spirits. +It is wicked to speak lies of the living; it is abominable and +dangerous to speak ill of the dead." + +"I fear neither the living nor the dead. I will say to my last breath +that Liot Borson murdered Bele Trenby. He was long minded to do the +deed; at last he did it." + +"How can you alone, of all the men and women in Lerwick, know this?" + +"That night I dreamed a dream. I saw the moss and the black water, +and Bele's white, handsome face go down into it. And I saw your +father there. What for? That he might do the murder in his heart." + +"The dream came from your own thoughts." + +"It came from Bele's angel. The next day--yes, and many times +afterward--I took to the spot the dog that loved Bele, and the +creature whined and crouched to his specter. Men are poor, sightless +creatures; animals see spirits where we are blind as bats." + +"Are these your proofs? Why do people suffer you to say such things?" + +"Because in their hearts they believe me. Murders tell tales; +secretly, in the night, crossing the moss, when men are not thinking, +they breathe suspicion; they speak after being long dumb. Fifty +years is not the date of their bond. They haunt the place of their +tragedy, and men dream of the deed. So it is. The report sticks +to Liot, and more will come of it yet. Oh, that he were in your +shoes to-day! I would find the strength to slay him, if I died +and went to hell for it." + +"Woman, why dost thou damn thyself while yet there is a hope of +mercy?" + +"Mercy! What have you to do with mercy? One thing rejoices me: it +will not be long ere I meet that blessed thrall that cursed all +the generations of the Borsons. He and I will strike hands in that +quarrel; and it shall go ill with you and your children till the +last Borson be cursed off the face of the earth." + +"I will flee unto the Omnipotent. He will keep even my shadow from +the evil ones that follow after. Now I will go, for I see there is +no hope of good-will between us two." + +"And it is my advice that you go away from Shetland." + +"That I will _not_ do. There are my cousins Nanna and Vala here; and +it is freely said that you have done them much ill. I will stay here +and do them all the good I can." + +"Then you will have Nicol Sinclair to settle with. That is the best +of my wish. Nicol Sinclair is my third cousin, and I have given +him five hundred pounds because he hates the Borsons and is ready +to cross their happiness in all things possible. Pack, now, from my +presence! I have no more to say to you. I am no kin to you, and I +have taken good care to prevent the law making you kin. My will is +made. All that I have not given to Nicol Sinclair goes to make free +the slaves in Africa. Freedom! freedom! freedom!" she shrieked. +"Nothing is cruel but slavery." + +It was the old Norse passion for liberty, strong and vital when every +other love was ashes. It was a passion also to which David instantly +responded. The slumbering sentiment awoke like a giant in his heart, +and he comprehended it by a racial instinct as passionate as her own. + +"You have done well," he said. "Hunger and cold, pain and poverty, +are nothing if one has freedom. It is a grand thing to set a man or +a woman _free_." + +"And yet you catch haddock and herring! Bah! we have nothing to do +with each other." + +"Then farewell, aunt, and God give you mercy in the day you will need +mercy." + +She was suddenly and stolidly silent. She fixed her eyes on the +dull glow of the burning peats, and relapsed into the torpor that +was her habitual mood. Its force was insurmountable. David went +slowly out of her presence, and was unable for some time to cast off +the depression of her icy influence. Yet the meeting had not been +without result. During it he had felt the first conscious throb of +that new passion for freedom which had sprung into existence at the +impetuous, glowing iteration of the mere word from his aunt's lips. +He felt its charm in the unaccustomed liberty of his own actions. +He was now entirely without claims but those his love or liking +voluntarily assumed. No one older than himself had the right to +reprove or direct him. He had at last come to his majority. He was +master of himself and his fate. + +The first evidence of this new condition was a dignified reticence +with Barbara Traill. She was conscious of the change in her +lodger. She felt instinctively that he was no longer a child to +be questioned, and there was a tone of authority in his refusal to +discuss his aunt Sabiston with her which she could not but respect. +Indeed, it was no longer possible to speak to him of Mistress +Sabiston as Mistress Sabiston deserved to be spoken of. Her first +censure was checked by David's air of disapproval and his few +words of apology: + +"She is, however, my aunt; and when one is ninety years old it is a +good excuse for many faults." + +Matilda's utter refusal of his kin or kindness threw him more +exclusively upon Nanna and her child. And as all his efforts to +discover any other family connections were quite futile, he finally +came to believe that they three were the last of a family that had +once filled the lands of the Norsemen with the fame of their great +deeds. Insensibly this thought drew the bond tighter and closer, +though an instinct as pure as it was conventional taught him a +scrupulous delicacy with regard to this friendship. Fortunately, +in Shetland the blood-tie was regarded as a strong enough motive +for all David's attentions to a woman and child so desolate and +helpless. People said simply, "It is a good thing for Nanna Sinclair +that her cousin has come to Shetland." And it did not enter their +hearts to imagine an evil motive for kind deeds when there was one +so natural and obligatory. + +So Shetland became dear and pleasant to David, and he gradually +grew into great favor. The minister made much of the young man, for +he respected his integrity and earnest piety, and loved him for +that tenderness and clearness of conscience which was sensitive to +the first approaches of wrong. The fishers and sailors of the +town gave him a warm admiration for his seamanship, and the praise +David had looked for at the beginning, and felt disappointed in not +receiving, was now given him by a kind of acclamation. Old sailors, +telling yarns of their ships and the queer, bold things their +ships had done, generally in some way climaxed their narratives by +an allusion to David Borson. Thus, Peter Redlands, talking to a group +of fishers one day, said: + +"Where that lad learned the sea, and who taught him all the ways of +it, is beyond me; but say as you will, he can make harbor when none +of us could look at it. It is my belief David Borson can stick to +anything that can float." + +"And to see how he humors a boat," continued Jan Wyck, "you would +think she was made out of flesh instead of out of three-inch planks. +I was out with him near the Old Man's Rocks last week, and he was +watching the water; and I said, 'What is it, David?' 'The sea,' he +said. 'It will be at its old tricks again in an hour or less.' And +the 'less' was right, for in fifteen minutes the word was, 'Reef, +and quick about it!' and then you know what--the rip and the roar, +and the boat leaping her full length. But David did not worry a +jot. He coaxed her beautifully, and kept her well in hand; and she +shook herself a little, and then away like a gull before the wind." + +He was just as popular among the children and women of Lerwick. The +boys made an idol of him, for David was always ready to give them a +sail, or lend them his fowling-piece, or help them to rig their +toy boats. As for the maidens, the prettiest ones in Lerwick had a +shy smile for David Borson, and many wondered that such a beauty +as Asta Fae should smile on him in vain; but David had taken Nanna +and Vala into his heart, and his care and thought for them were so +constant that there was no room for any other interest. Yet Barbara +often talked to him about taking a wife; and even the minister, +doubtless led to such advice by female gossip and speculation, +thought it well to speak a word on the subject to him. + +"You know, David," he said, "there are good girls and beautiful girls +that look kindly on you, and who wonder that your smiles are so cold +and your words so few; and it is my duty to say to you that evil may +come of your taking so much thought for your cousin and her child, +and the way to help her best is to help her through your own wife." + +"I am not in the mind to marry, minister," he answered. "There is no +one girl dearer or fairer to me than another. And as for what I do +for my cousins, I think that God sent me to do it, and I shall not +be feared to make accounting to him for it." + +"That is my belief also, David. Yet we are told to avoid the very +appearance of evil; and what is more, if it is not your pleasure to +marry, it is your duty; and how will you win past that?" + +"I have not seen it to be my duty, minister." + +"The promise is in the line of the righteous; the blessing is for you +and for your children; but if you have no wife or children, then is +the promise shortened and the blessing cut off. I think that you +should choose some good woman's daughter, and build yourself a home, +and then marry a wife." + +The young man went out of the manse with this thought in his heart. +And not far off he met pretty Asta Fae, and he spoke to her and +walked with her as far as she was going; and he saw that she had the +sweetest of blue eyes, and that her smile was tender and her ways +gentle. And when he left her at her father's door, he held her hand +a moment and said, "It has been a pleasant walk to me, Asta." And +she looked frankly into his face and answered with rosy blushes, +"And to me also, David." + +There was a warm glow at his heart as he went across the moor to +Nanna's; and he resolved to tell his cousin what the minister had +said, and ask her advice about Asta Fae; but when he reached Nanna's +cot she was sitting on the hearth with Vala upon her knees, and +telling her such a strange story that David would not for anything +lose a word of it. And as Nanna's back was to the open door she +did not see David enter, but went on with her tale, in the high, +monotonous tone of one telling a narrative whose every word is +well known and not to be changed. + +"You see, Vala," she said, touching the child's fingers and toes, +"it was the old brown bull of Norraway, and he had a sore battle +with the deil, and he carried off a great princess; and you may know +how big he was, for he said to her, 'Eat out of my left ear, and +drink out of my right ear, and put by the leavings.' And ay they +rode, and on they rode, till they came to a dark and awesome glen, +and there the bull stopped and the lady lighted down. And the bull +said to her: 'Here you must stay while I go on and fight the deil. +And you must sit here on that stone, and move not hand or foot till +I come back, or else I'll never find you again. And if everything +round about you turns blue, I shall have beaten the deil; but if +all things turn red, then the deil will have conquered me.'" + +"And so he left her, mammy, to go and fight the deil?" + +"Ay, he did, Vala; and she sat still, singing." + +"Sing me the lady's song, mammy." + +Then Nanna intoned softly the strangest, wildest little tune. It was +like a Gregorian chant, and had but three notes, but to these she +gave a marvelous variety. David listened spellbound to the entreating +voice: + + "'Seven long years I served for thee, + The glassy hill I clamb for thee, + The bloody shirt I wrang for thee, + And wilt thou not waken and come to me?' + +But I'm thinking he never came back to the lady." + +"Oh, yes, he did, mammy," said Vala, confidently. "Helga Storr told +me he came back a fine prince with a gold crown on his head, and the +deil went away empty and roaring mad." + +"What is it you are telling about, Nanna?" said David, his face eager +and alight with interest. + +She rose up then, with Vala in her arms, her eyes shining with her +sweet, motherly story-telling. "It is only an old tale, David," she +answered. "I know not who made it up. My mother told it to me, and +her mother to her, and so back through years that none can count. +Yes, indeed; what little child does not know the story of the big +brown bull of Norraway?" + +"I never heard of it before," said David. + +"To be sure; your mother did not live to talk to you--poor little +lad!" + +"Now, then, Nanna, tell it to me for my mother's sake." And he sat +down on the cricket by her side, and took Vala on his knee; and Nanna +laughed, and then, with the little formal importance of the reciter, +said: "Well, so it shall be, then. Here beginneth the story of the +big brown bull of Norraway and his fight with the deil." And the +old tale fell from her lips full of charm, and David listened with +all the delight of a child. And when it had been twice told, Nanna +began to talk of the burnt Njal and the Icelandic sagas, and the +more so as she saw David was full of strange wonder and delight, +and that every word was fresh and enthralling to him. + +"Yet it is a thing to be wondered at," she said finally, "that you, +David, know not these old histories better than I do; for I have +often heard that no one in all the islands could tell a story so +well as Liot Borson. Yes, and the minister once said, and I heard +him, that he would walk ten miles to hear from your father's lips +once more the sad happenings of his ancestor, the brave, helpful +Gisli." + +"This is a great thing to me, Nanna," answered David, in a voice +low and quiet, for he was feeling deeply. "And I look to you now +for what has never been told me. Who, then, was my ancestor Gisli?" + +"If your father held his peace about him, he surely thought it best +to do so, and so ask me not to break a good resolve." + +"Nay, but I must ask you. My heart burns; I feel that there is a life +behind me into which I must look. Help me, Nanna. And, more, the +name Gisli went to my head. It is not like other strange names. I +love this man whom I have not seen and never heard of until this +hour. What has he to do with me?" + +"_He was one of us._ And because he was so good and great the +thrall's curse fell the harder on him, and was the more +regarded--hard enough it has been on all the Borsons; and perhaps +your father thought it was well you heard not of it. Many a time +and oft I have wished it had not entered my ears; for when one sorrow +called to another sorrow, and one wrong trod on the heels of +another wrong, I have been angry at the false, ungrateful man +who brought such ill fortune upon his unborn generations." + +"Now you make me so anxious and wilful that nothing but the story +of the thrall's curse will do for me. I shall not eat or sleep till +I hear it." + +"'Tis a tale of dishonor and unthankfulness, and not so well known +to me as to Jorn Thorkel. He can tell it all, and will gladly do so." + +"But for all that, I will hear it from you, Nanna, and you only, for +it concerns us only. Tell me what you know, and the rest can wait +for Jorn." + +"So, then, you will have it; but if ill comes of the knowledge do +not blame me. It began in the days of Harold Fairhair, one thousand +years ago. There was a Gisli then, and he had a quarrel with a +berserker called Bjorn, and they agreed to fight until one was dead. +And the woman who loved Gisli told him that her foster-father, Kol, +who was a thrall, had a sword that whoever wielded would win in +any fight. And Gisli sent for Kol and asked him: + +"'Hast thou ever a good sword?' + +"And Kol answered: 'Many things are in the thrall's cot, not in the +king's grange.' + +"'Lend me thy sword for my duel with Bjorn,' said Gisli. + +"And Kol said: 'Then this thing will happen: thou wilt never wish to +give it up. And yet I tell thee, this sword will bite whatever it +falls on, nor can its edge be deadened by spells, for it was forged +by the dwarfs, and its name is Graysteel. And make up thy mind,' he +said, 'that I will take it very ill indeed if I get not my sword +back when I ask for it.' + +"So Gisli took the sword and slew Bjorn with it, and got good fame +for this feat. And time rolled on, and he gave not back the sword; +and one day Kol met him, and Gisli had Graysteel in his hand, and +Kol had an ax. + +"And Kol asked if the sword had done him good service at his great +need, and Gisli was full of its praises. + +"'Well, now,' said Kol, 'I should like it back.' + +"'Sell it to me,' said Gisli. + +"'No,' said Kol. + +"'I will give thee thy freedom for it,' said Gisli. + +"'I will not sell it,' said Kol. + +"'I will also give thee land and sheep and cattle and goods as much +as thou wantest,' said Gisli. + +"'I will not sell it a whit more for that,' said Kol. + +"'Put thy own price on it in money, and I will get thee a fair wife +also,' said Gisli. + +"'There is no use talking about it,' said Kol. 'I will not sell it, +whatsoever thou offerest. It has come to what I said would happen: +that thou wouldst not give me back my weapon when thou knewest what +virtue was in it.' + +"'And I too will say what will happen,' said Gisli. 'Good will befall +neither of us; for I will _not_ give up the sword, and it shall +never come into any man's hand but mine, if I have my will.' + +"Then Kol lifted his ax, and Gisli drew Graysteel, and they smote +at each other. Kol's blow fell on Gisli's head, so that it sank +into the brain; and Graysteel fell on Kol's head, and his skull was +shattered, and Graysteel broke asunder. Then, as Kol gave up the +ghost, he said: + +"'It had been better that thou hadst given me my sword when I asked +for it, for this is only the beginning of the ill fortune I will +bring on thy kith and kin forever.' + +"And so it has been. For a thousand years the tellings-up of our +family are full of troubles that this thrall's curse has brought +upon us. Few of our men have grown gray-headed; in the sea and on +the battlefield they have found their graves; and the women have had +sorrow in marriage and death in child-bearing." + +"It was an evil deed," said David. + +"It was a great curse for it also; one thousand years it has followed +Gisli's children." + +"Not so! I believe it not! Neither the dead nor the living can curse +those whom God blesses." + +"Yet always the Borsons have had the worst of ill fortune. We three +only are now left of the great earls who ruled in Surnadale and in +Fjardarfolk, and see how poor and sorrowful we are. My life has been +woven out of grief and disappointment; Vala will never walk; and as +for your own youth, was it not labor and sorrow only?" + +"I believe not in any such spaedom. I believe in God the Father +Almighty, and in Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. And as for +the cursing of man, dead or alive, I will not fear what it can do +to me. Gisli was indeed well served for his mean, ungrateful deed, +and it would have been better if the berserker Bjorn had cut his +false heart out of him." + +"Such talk is not like you, David. I can see now that your father +did right to keep these bloody stories from your hearing. There is no +help in them." + +"Well, I know not that. This night the minister was talking to me +about taking a wife. If there be truth or power in Kol's curse, why +should any Borson be born, that he or she may bear his spite? No; I +will not marry, and--" + +"In saying that you mock your own words. Where, then, is your trust +in God? And the minister is right; you ought to take a wife. People +think wrong of a young man who cannot fix his heart on one good +woman. There is Christina Hey. Speak to her. Christina is sweet and +wise, and will make a good wife." + +"I met Asta Fae as I came here. Very pretty indeed is her face, and +she has a way to win any heart." + +"For all that, I do not think well of Asta. She is at the dance +whenever there is one, and she has more lovers than a girl should +have." + +"Christina has land and money. I care not for a wife who is richer +than myself." + +"Her money is nothing against her; it will be a help." + +"I know not," he answered, but without interest. "You have given me +something to think of that is better than wooing and wedding, Nanna. +My heart is quite full. I am more of a man than I have ever been. I +can feel this hour that there is life behind me as well as before me. +But I will go now, for to-morrow is the Sabbath and we shall meet +at the kirk; and I will carry Vala home for you if you say so, Nanna." + +"Well, then," she answered, "to-morrow is not here, David; but it +will come, by God's leave. I dreamed a dream last night, and I look +for a change, cousin. But this or that, my desire is that God would +choose for me." + +"That also is my desire," said David, solemnly. + +"As for me, I have fallen into a great strait; only God can help me." + +She was standing on the hearth, looking down at Vala. Tears were +in her eyes, and a divine pity and sorrow made tender and gentle her +majestic beauty. David looked steadily at her, and something, he +knew not what, seemed to pierce his very soul--a sweet, aching pain, +never felt before, inexplicable, ineffable, and as innocent as the +first holy adoration of a little child. Then he went out into the +still, starry night, and tried to think of Christina Hey; but she +constantly slipped from his consciousness, like a dream that has +no message. + + + + +VII + +SO FAR AND NO FARTHER + + +David Borson was stirred to the very seat of life by the things Nanna +had told him. It did not enter his heart to doubt their truth. The +shameful deed of the first Gisli, and the still strong order of its +consequences, which neither the guilt of his children hastened, nor +their innocence delayed, nor their expiation arrested, was the +dominant feeling aroused by her narrative. The whole story, with its +terrible Nemesis, fitted admirably into the system of Calvinistic +theology, and David had not yet come to the hour in which faith +would crush down fatalism. The words of these ancient sagas went +singing and swinging through his brain and heart, and life seemed +so wonderful and bewildering, its sorrows so great and certain, its +needs so urgent and present, and heaven, alas! so far off. + +There came to him also, as he slowly trod the lonely moor, the most +awful of all conceptions of eternity--the revelation of _a repentance +that could undo nothing_. He was righteously angry at Gisli's base +ingratitude; he was sorry for his sin; but others had doubtless +felt the same anger and sorrow, and it had been ineffectual. Helpless +and passive in the hands of destiny, a nameless dread, an urgent +want of help and comfort, forced him to feel out into the abyss +for something more than flesh and blood to lean on; and then he +found that God is best of all approached in indefinite awe and +worship, and that moments of tender, vague mystery, haunted by +uncertain presentiments, bring him near. + +"Well, then," he said as he came to the door of his house, "the +wicked may be a rod, and smite for generations; but the rod is in the +hand of God, and I will remind myself that my God is the Everlasting, +Almighty, Infinite One; and I will ask him to give sentence with +me, and to deliver me from the wicked, whether they be in the body +or out of the body." And he walked through the house-place where +Barbara was sitting, and saw her not; for he was saying to himself, +"'Why art thou so vexed, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted +within me? O put thy trust in God: for I will yet give him thanks, +which is the help of my countenance, and my God.'" + +Nanna sat motionless for long after David left her. She had many +causes for anxiety. She was fearful of losing her work, and absolute +poverty would then be her lot. It was a fear, however, and not a +certainty; and after a little reflection she also threw her care +upon the Preserver of men. "Be at peace," she said to her heart. +"God feeds the gulls and the ravens, and he will not starve Nanna and +Vala." + +It was harder to combat her spiritual anxieties. She was sorry +she had told David about the thrall's curse. Her first instinct +was to ask his father and mother to forgive her; then she suddenly +remembered that praying to or for the dead was a sin for a kirk +session to meet on. And this thought led her easily to the dream +that had troubled her last night's sleep and made her day dark +with sorrowful fears. All her life she had possessed something of +that sixth sense by which we see and anticipate things invisible. +And it is noticeable that many cripples have often a seraphic +intelligence, a far-reaching vision, and very sensitive spiritual +aptitudes. Vala was of this order. She too had been singularly +depressed; she had seen more than she could tell; she was as restless +and melancholy as birds just before their migrations, and she looked +at her mother with eyes so wistful, so full of inquiry, so "far off," +that Nanna trembled under their fearfully prescient intimations. +Alas for the dangerous happiness of maternity! How prodigious are its +inquietudes! How uncertain its consolations! + +She told David that she had dreamed a dream, and that she looked +for a change; and she had made this statement as simply and as +confidently as if she had said, "The wind is from the north, and I +look for a storm." Repeated experiences had taught her, as they +teach constantly, that certain signs precede certain events, and that +certain dreams are dictated by that delicate antenna of spiritual +instinct which feels danger to be near and warns of it. + +Nanna had had _the dream_ that ever forecast her misfortunes, and she +sat thinking of its vague intimations, and tightening her heart for +any sorrow. She had been forewarned that she might be forearmed, +and she regarded this warning as a mark of interest and favor from +beyond the veil. God had always spoken to his children in dreams +and by the oracles that abide in darkness, and Nanna knew that in +many ways "dreams are large possessions." She fell asleep pondering +what her vision of the preceding night might mean, and awoke next +morning, while it was still dark, with a dim sense of fear and sorrow +encompassing her. + +"But everything frightens one when night, the unknown, takes the +light away," she thought. And she rose and lighted a lamp, and +looked at Vala. The child was in a deep and healthy slumber, and the +sight of its face calmed and satisfied her. Yet she was strangely +apprehensive, and there was a weight on her heart that made her faint +and trembling. She knew right well that some hitherto unknown sorrow +was creeping like a mist over her life, and she had not yet the +strength and the pang of conflict. + + Have we not too? Yes, we have + Answers, and we know not whence; + Echoes from beyond the grave, + Recognized intelligence. + +Yet the secret silence of the night, the vague terror and darkness +of that occult world which we all carry with us, created in her, at +first, fear, and then a kind of angry, desperate resentment. + +"Oh, how helpless I am!" she sighed. "I can think and feel, I can +fear and love, and I am not here by my own will; I did not place +myself here; I cannot keep myself here. My life is in the grasp of +a Power I cannot control. What am I to do? What can I do? Oh, how +miserable I am! All my life long I have seen '_Not for you_' written +on all I wished. Life is very hard," she said with a little sob. +And then she made no further complaint, but her heart grew so still, +she was sure something must have died there. Alas! was it hope? + +"Life is very hard." With these words she lay down again, and between +sleeping and waking the hours wore on, and she rose at last from +her shivery sleep, even later than usual. Then she hurried breakfast +a little, and as the light grew over land and sea she tidied her +room and dressed Vala and herself for the kirk. As the sound of the +first service bell traveled solemnly over the moor she was ready to +leave the house. Her last duty was to put a peat or two upon the +fire, and as she was doing this she heard some one lift the sneck +and push open the door. + +"It is David to carry Vala," she thought. "How good he is!" + +But when she turned she saw that it was not David. It was her +husband, Nicol Sinclair. He walked straight to the fireside, and +sat down without a word. Nanna's heart sank to its lowest depths, +and a cold despair made her feet and hands heavy as lead; but she +slowly spread the cloth on the table, and bit by bit managed to +recollect the cup and saucer, the barley-cake, the smoked goose, +and the tea. + +There was a terrible account between the man sitting on the hearth +and herself, and words of passionate reproach burned at her lips; +but she held her peace. Long ago she had left her cause with God; +he would plead it thoroughly. Even now, when her enemy was before +her, she had no thought of any other advocate. + +Her pallor, her slow movements, her absolute dumbness, roused in +Sinclair an angry discomfort. And when Vala made a movement he lifted +her roughly, and with a brutal laugh said, "A nice plaything you +will be on board the _Sea Rover_!" + +Nanna shivered at the words. She comprehended in a moment the torture +this man had probably come purposely to inflict upon her. Already +his cruel hands had crippled her child; and what neglect, what +terrors, what active barbarities, might he not impose on the little +one in the hell of his own ship! Who there could prevent him? Little +did Nicol Sinclair care for public opinion on land; but out at +sea, where Vala's tears and cries could bring her no help, what +pitiless inhumanities might he not practise? + +"_Fly with the child!_" + +The words were struck upon her heart like blows. But how should she +fly? and where to? Far or near, the law would find her out and would +give Vala to her father's authority. And she had no friend strong +enough to protect her. Only by death could she defy separation. Thus, +while she was pouring the boiling water on the tea-leaves, she was +revolving questions more agonizing than words have power to picture. + +At length the food was on the table, and, save for those few +threatening words, the silence was unbroken. Sinclair sat down +to his meal with a bravado very near to cursing, and at that moment +the kirk bells began to ring again. To Nanna they were like a voice +from heaven. Quick as thought she lifted her child and fled from +the house. + +[Illustration: "BUT SHE HELD HER PEACE."] + +Oh, what stress of life and death was in her footsteps! Only to +reach the kirk! If she could do that, she would cling to the altar +and die there rather than surrender Vala to unknown miseries. Love +and terror gave her wings. She did not turn her head; she did not +feel the frozen earth or the cutting east wind; she saw nothing +but Vala's small face on her breast, and she heard nothing but the +echo in her heart of those terrible words threatening her with the +loss of her child. + +When she reached the kirk the service had begun. The minister +was praying. She went into the nearest pew, and though all were +standing, she laid Vala on the seat, and slipped to her knees beside +her. She could not now cry out as she longed to do, and sob her +fright and anguish away at God's feet. "Folk would wonder at me. I +would disturb the service." These were her thoughts as soon as +the pressure of her flight was over. For the solemn voice of the +minister praying, the strength of numbers, the holy influence of +the time and place, cooled her passionate sense of wrong and danger, +and she was even a little troubled at her abandonment of what was +usual and Sabbath-like. + +The altar now looked a long way off; only Sinclair at touch could +have forced her down that guarded aisle to its shelter. Heaven itself +was nearer, and God needed no explanations. He knew all. What was +the law of man to him? And he feared not their disapproval. Thus +in her great strait she overleaped her creed, and cast herself on +him who is "a God of the afflicted, an helper of the oppressed, an +upholder of the weak, a protector of the forlorn, a savior of them +that are without hope." + +When the preaching was over David and Barbara came to her; and David +knit his brows when he saw her face, for it was the face of a woman +who had seen something dreadful. Her eyes were full of fear and +anguish, and she was yet white and trembling with the exertion of +her hard flight. + +"Nanna," he said, "what has happened?" + +"My husband has come back." + +"I heard last night that his ship was in harbor." + +"He has come for Vala. He will take her from me. She will die of +neglect and hard usage. He may give her to some stranger who will be +cross to her. O David! David!" + +"He shall not touch her." + +"O David!" + +"Put her in my arms _now_." + +"Do you mean this?" + +"I do." + +"Can I trust you, David?" + +"You may put it to any proof." + +"Pass your word to me, cousin." + +"As the Lord God Almighty lives, I will put my life between Vala and +Nicol Sinclair!" + +"But how?" + +"I will take her to sea if necessary, for my boat can go where few +will dare to follow." + +Then he turned to Barbara and said: "Nicol Sinclair has indeed come +back. He says he has come for Vala." + +[Illustration: AT THE KIRK.] + +"Then the devil has led him here," answered Barbara, flashing into +anger. "As for Vala, let her stay with me. She has a good guard at my +house. There is Groat and his four sons on one side, and Jeppe Madson +and his big brother Har on the other side; and there is David Borson, +who is worth a whole ship's crew, to back them in anything for Vala's +safety. Stay with me to-day, Nanna, and we will talk this matter out." + +But Nanna shook her head in reply. As she understood it, duty was +no peradventure; it was an absolute thing from which there was no +turning away. And her duty was to be at home when her husband was +there. But she put Vala's hand into David's hand, and then looked at +the young man with eyes full of anxiety. He answered the look with +one strong word: + +"_Yes!_" + +And she knew he would redeem it with his life, if that should be +necessary. + +Then she turned homeward, and walked with a direct and rapid energy. +She put away thought; she formed no plan, she said no prayer. Her +petition had been made in the kirk; she thought there would be a +want of faith in repeating a request already promised. She felt even +the modesty of a suppliant, and would not continually press into the +presence of the Highest; for to the reverent there is ever the veil +before the Shechinah. + +And this conscious putting aside of all emotion strengthened her. +When she saw her home she had no need to slacken her speed or to +encourage herself. She walked directly to the door and opened it. +There was no one there; the place was empty. The food on the table +was untouched. Nothing but a soiled and crumpled handkerchief +remained of the dreadful visitor. She lifted it with the tongs and +cast it into the fire. Then she cleared away every trace of the +rejected meal. + +Afterward she made some inquiries in the adjoining huts. One woman +only had seen his departure. "I could not go to kirk this morning," +she said with an air of apology, "for my bairn is very sick; and +I saw Nicol Sinclair go away. It was near the noon hour. Drunk he +was, and worse drunk than most men can be. His face was red as a +hot peat, and he swayed to and fro like a boat on the Gruting Voe. +There was something no' just right about the man." + +That was all she could learn, and she was very unhappy, for she +could imagine no good reason for his departure. In some way or +other he was preparing the blow he meant to deal her; and though it +was the Sabbath, there would be no difficulty in finding men whom he +could influence. And there was also his cousin Matilda Sabiston, +that wicked old woman who had outlived all human passions but hatred. +Against this man and the money and ill-will that would back him she +could do nothing, but she "trusted in God that he would deliver her." + +So she said to herself, "Patience"; and she sat down to wait, +shutting her eyes to the outside world, and drawing to a focus all +the strength that was in her. The closed Bible lay on the table +beside her, and occasionally she touched it with her hand. She had +not been able to read it; but there was comfort in seeing the old, +homely-looking book, with its everyday aspect and its pages full of +kindly blessing, and still more comfort in putting herself in +physical contact with its promises. They seemed to be more real. And +as she sat hour after hour, psalms learned years before, and read +many and many a time without apprehension of their meaning, began to +speak to her. She saw the words with her spiritual sight, and they +shone with their own glory. And she obtained what she so sorely +needed: + + A little comforting shadow + From the hot sun's fiery glow; + A little rest by the fountain + Where the waters of comfort flow. + +When midnight struck she looked at the clock and thanked God. Surely +she was safe for that night; and she turned the key in her door +and went to sleep. And her sleep was that which God giveth to his +beloved when they are to be strengthened for many days--a deep, +dreamless suspense of all thought and feeling. + +Yet, heavenly as the sleep had been, the awakening was a shock. And +as the day grew toward noon she was as much troubled by the silence +of events as her husband had been by the silence of her lips. Human +hearts are nests of fear. Her whole soul kept going to the window, +and she said, with the impatience of suspended suffering, "_Now! +now!_ I have no fortitude for to-morrow, but I can bear anything +_now_." Finally she resolved to go to Barbara's, and see Vala, and +hear whatever there was to hear. But as she was putting on her +cloak she saw David coming over the moor, and he was carrying Vala +in his arms. + +"So," she said, "I see that I will not need to run after my fate; it +will come to me; and there will be no use striving against it. For +what must be is sure to happen." + +Then she turned back into the house, and David followed with unusual +solemnity, and laid Vala upon her bed. "She is sleeping," he said, +"and there is something to tell you, Nanna." + +"About my husband?" + +"Yes." + +"Say it out at once, then." + +"Last night he was carried to his own ship." And David's face was +grave almost to sternness. + +"Carried! Have you then hurt him, David?" + +"No; he is a self-hurter. But this is what I know. He went from +here to Matilda Sabiston's house. She had gone to kirk with two +of her servants, and when she came back she found him delirious +on the sofa. Then the doctor was sent for, and when he said the word +'typhus,' Matilda shrieked with passion, and demanded that he should +be instantly taken away." + +"But no! Surely not!" + +"Yes; it was so. Both the minister and the doctor said it was right +and best for him to be taken to his own ship. The town--yes, indeed, +and the whole islands were in danger. And when they took him on +board the _Sea Rover_, they found that two of the sailors were also +very ill with the fever. They had been ill for a week, and Sinclair +knew it; yet he came among the boats, and went through the town, +speaking to many people. It was a wicked thing for him to do." + +"It was just like him. Where is the _Sea Rover_ now lying?" + +"She has been taken to the South Voe. The fishing-boats will watch +lest the men are landed, and the doctor will go to the ship every day +the sea will let him go." + +"David, is it my duty--" + +"No, it is not; there are five men with Sinclair. Three of them are, +I believe, yet well men, and three can care for the sick and the +ship. On the deck of the _Sea Rover_ a woman should not put her foot." + +"But a ship with typhus on board?" + +"Is a hell indeed! In this case, Nanna, it is a hell of their own +making. They got the fever in a dance-house at Rotterdam. Sinclair +knew of its presence, and laughed it to scorn. It was his mate who +told the doctor so. Also, Nanna, there is Vala." + +She went swiftly to the side of the sleeping child, and she was sure +there was a change in her. David would not acknowledge it, but in +forty-eight hours the signs of the fatal scourge were unmistakable. +Then Nanna's house was marked and isolated, and she sat down to +watch her dying child. + + + + +VIII + +THE JUSTIFICATION OF DEATH + + +During the awful days of Vala's dying no one came near Nanna. +She watched her child night and day, and saw it go out into the +darkness that girds our life around, in unutterable desolation of +soul. From the first Vala was unconscious, and she went away without +a word or token of comfort to the despairing mother. There was +unspeakable suffering and decay, and then the little breathing-house +in which Vala had sojourned a short space was suddenly vacant. For +a moment Nanna stood on the border-lands of being, where life +hardly draws breath. _A little more_, and she would have pushed +apart the curtains that divide us from that spiritual world which +lies so close and which may claim us at any moment. _A little +more_, and she would, in her loving agony, have pressed beyond +manifestations to that which is ineffable and nameless. + +But at the last moment the flesh-and-blood conductor of spirit +failed; a great weakness and weariness made her passive under the +storm of sorrow that drove like rain to the roots of her life. +When she was able to move, Vala lay sad and still. All was over, +and Nanna stood astonished, smitten, dismayed, on a threshold she +could not pass. The Eternal had given, and it was a gift; he had +taken away, and it was an immeasurable loss, and she could not +say, "Blessed be the name of the Lord." She was utterly desolate; +and when she washed for the last time the little feet that had +never trod the moor or street or house, she thought her heart +would break. _Who_ had led them through the vast spaces of the +constellations? _Whither_ had they been led? There was no answer to +her moaning question. She looked from her dead Vala to God, and all +was darkness. She could not see him. + +It was a hurried burial in a driving storm. The sea rolled in +fateful billows, the winds whistled loud and shrill, the rain +soaked Nanna through and through. Two or three of her neighbors +followed afar off; they wished her to see they were not oblivious +of her grief and loss, but they dared not break the ordinance of +town and kirk and voluntarily and without urgent reason come in +contact with the contagion; for the island not many years previously +had been almost decimated by the same scourge, and every man and +woman was the guardian, not only of his or her own life, but of +the lives of the community. + +Nanna understood this. She saw the dark, cloaked figures of her +friends standing in the storm at a distance, and she knew the +meaning of their upraised hands; but she had no heart to answer the +signal of sympathy. Alone, she stood by the small open grave and saw +it filled. The rain beat on it, and she was glad that it beat on her. +It was with difficulty, and only with some affected anger, the +two men who had buried the child got her to return to her home. + +How vacant it was! How unspeakably lonely! The stormy dreariness +outside the cot, the atmosphere of sorrow and loss within it, were +depressing beyond words. And what can be said of the loneliness +and sorrow within the soul? But in every bitter cup there is one drop +bitterest of all; and in Nanna's case this was David's neglect and +apparent desertion. She had received no message from him, nor had +he come near her in all her trouble. Truly, he must have broken +the law to do so; but Nanna was sure no town ordinance would have +kept her from David's side in such an hour, and she despised that +obedience to law which could teach him such cowardly neglect. + +Day after day passed, and he came not. The fever was by this time in +all the cottages around her, and the little hamlet was a plague-spot +that every one avoided. But, for all that, Nanna's heart condemned +her cousin. She tried him by her own feelings, and found him guilty +of unpardonable selfishness and neglect. And oh, how dreary are +those waste places left by the loved who have deserted us! With +what bitter tears we water them! Vala and David had been her last +tie to love and happiness. "Thank God," she cried out in her misery, +"it can only be broken once!" + +Vala had been in her grave a week--a week of days that turned the +mother's heart gray--before Nanna heard a word of comfort. Then once +more David lifted the latch of the cot and entered her presence. +She was sitting still and empty-handed, and her white face and the +quivering of her lips pierced him to the heart. + +"Nanna! Nanna!" he said. + +Then she rose, and looked round the lonely room, and David understood +what she meant. + +"Nanna! Nanna!" was still all that he could say. He could find no +words fit for such sorrow; but there was the truth to speak, and +that might have some comfort in it. So he took her hands in his, +and said gently: + +"Nanna! dear Nanna! your husband is dead." + +"I am glad of it!" she answered. "He killed Vala twice over." Her +voice was low and weary, and she asked no question about the matter. + +"Did you think I had forgotten you, Nanna?" + +"Well, then, yes." + +"Forgotten you and Vala?" + +"It looked most like it. I thought you were either feared for +yourself or the law." + +"No wonder men think ill of God, whom they do not know, when they +are so ready to think ill of men, whom they do know." + +"O David! how could you desert me? Can you think of all that I have +suffered alone? God nor man has helped me." + +"Poor, poor Nanna!" + +"If you had been ill to death, neither the words of men nor the power +of the law could have kept me from your sick-bed. No, indeed! I +would have risked everything to help you. Where were you at all, +David?" + +"I was on the _Sea Rover_." + +"The _Sea Rover_! That is Nicol's ship. What did he do to you? What +were you there for?" + +"I was on the _Sea Rover_ nursing your husband." + +"My God!" + +"That is the truth, Nanna. I have just finished my task." + +"Who sent you?" + +"The minister came to me with the order, and I could not win by it +and face God and man again." + +"What said he? O David! David!" + +"He said, 'David Borson, there are four men ill with typhus this +morning on the _Sea Rover_. The one man yet unstricken is quite +broken down with fright and fatigue. The doctor says some one ought +to go there. What do you think?' And I said, 'Minister, do you mean +me?' And he smiled a bit and answered, 'I thought you would know +your duty, David.'" + +"But why _your_ duty, David? Surely Vala was dearer and nearer." + +"The minister said, 'You are a lone man, David, and you fear God; +so, then, you need not fear the fever.'" + +"And he knew that you hated Sinclair! Knew that Sinclair had come +to my house with the fever on him--knew that he had lifted my poor +bairn, only that he might give her the death-kiss!" + +"No, no! How could any father, any man, be as bad as that, Nanna?" + +"You know not how bad the devil can make a man when he enters into +him. And how could the minister send you such a hard road?" + +"It was made easy to me; it was indeed, Nanna. The sensible presence +of God, and the shining of his face on me, though only for a moment, +made me willing to give up all my anger and all my revenge, and wait +on my enemy, and do what I could for him to the last moment." + +"And Vala? How could you forget her?" + +"I did not forget her. I was feared for the child, though I would +not say that to you. Barbara told me she had fret all night, and when +I said it would be for her mother, the woman shook her head in a way +that made me tremble. I was on my way to see her and you when I met +the minister, and he sent me the other way." + +"Why did you not tell him that you feared for Vala?" + +"I said that, and he said, 'Nanna will be able to care for the +little one; but there is a strong man needed to care for her husband; +Nicol Sinclair will be hard to manage.' And then he minded me of the +man's sinful life, and he said peradventure it might be the purpose +of God even yet to give him another opportunity for repentance +through me." + +"If he had known Nicol Sinclair as I--" + +"Yes, Nanna, but it is an awful thing to die eternally. If I could +help to save any one from such a fate, even my worst enemy,--even +your enemy and Vala's,--what should I have done? Tell me." + +"Just what you did. You have done right. Yes; though the man killed +Vala, you have done right! You have done right!" + +"I knew that would be your last word." + +"Did he have one good thought, one prayer, to meet death with?" + +"He did not. It was a wild night when he was in the dead thraws--a +wild night for the flitting; and he went out in storm and darkness, +and the sea carried him away." + +"God have mercy upon him! I have not a tear left for Nicol Sinclair." + +"It was an awful death; but on the same night there was a very good +death after a very good life. You have heard, Nanna?" + +"I have heard nothing. For many days all has been still and +tidingless. The fever is in every house, and no one comes near +but the doctor, and he speaks only to the sick." + +"Well, then, the good minister has gone home. He was taken with the +fever while giving the sacrament to Elder Somerlid. And he knew that +he would die, for he said, 'John Somerlid, we shall very soon drink +this cup together in the house of our Father in heaven.' So when +he got back to the manse he sent for Elder Peterson, and gave him +his last words." + +"And I know well that they would be good words." + +"They were like himself, full of hope. He spoke about his books, and +the money in his desk to pay all his debts, and then he said: + +"'The days of my life are ended, but I have met the hand of God, +Peter, and it is strong to lead and to comfort me. A word was +brought to me even as I held the blessed cup in my hand. Read to +me from the Book while I can listen to it.' And Peterson asked, +'What shall I read?' And the minister said, 'Take the Psalms. +There is everything in the Psalms.' So Peterson read the ones he +called for, and after a little the minister said: + +"'That will do, Peter. I turn now from the sorrow and pain and +darkness of earth to the celestial city, to infinite serenities, +to love without limit, to perfect joy. And when I am dead, see +you to my burying, Peter. Lay me in the grave with my face to the +east, and put above me Jesus Christ's own watchword, "_Thy kingdom +come._"' After that he asked only for water, and so he died." + +"Blessed are such dead. There is no need to weep for them." + +"That is one thing sure; but I have seen this, Nanna: that the wicked +is unbefriended in his death-pang." + +"And after it, David? O David, after it?" + +"There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the worker of +iniquity may hide," he answered with an awful solemnity. + +"O David, we come into the world weeping, and we go out fearing. It +is a hard travail, both for body and soul." + +And David walked to the little table on which the Book lay, and +he turned the leaves until he found the words he wanted. And Nanna +watched him with eyes purified by that mysterious withdrawal into +the life of the soul which comes through a great sorrow. + +"It was not always so, Nanna," he said. "Listen! + + "For their sakes I made the world, and when Adam transgressed + my statutes, then was decreed that now is done. + + "Then were the entrances of this world made narrow, full of + sorrow and travail; they are but few and evil, full of perils + and very painful. + + "For the entrances of the elder world were wide and sure, and + brought immortal fruit. + +But yet there is to be a restoration, Nanna." + +"I know not," she answered wearily. "It is so far off--so far away." + +"But it is promised. It is sure. + + "The world shall be turned into the old silence seven days, + like as in former judgments, so that no man shall remain. + + "And after seven days, the world, that yet awaketh not, shall + be raised up; and that shall die that is corrupt. + + "And the earth shall restore those that are asleep in her; and + the dust, those that dwell in silence; and the secret places + shall deliver those souls that were committed unto them. + + "And the Most High shall appear upon the seat of judgment, and + misery shall pass away, and the long suffering shall have an + end. + + "But judgment shall remain; truth shall stand; and faith shall + wax strong." + +"I know nothing of these things, David; I cannot think of them. +What I want is some word of comfort about Vala--a little word from +beyond would make all the difference. _Why_ is it not given? _Why_ +is there no answering voice from the other side? There is none on +this. _Why_ does God pursue a poor, broken-hearted woman so hardly? +Even now, when I have wept my heart cold and dumb, I do not please +him. One thing only is sure--my misery. Oh, _why, why_, David?" + +And David could only drop his eyes before the sad, inquiring gaze of +Nanna's. He murmured something about Adam and the cross, and told her +sorrowfully that He who hung upon it, forsaken, in the dark, also +asked, "Why?" The austerity and profound mystery of his creed gave +him no more comforting answer to the pathetic inquiry. + +He spent the day in the little hamlet, and, the weather being dry and +not very cold, he persuaded Nanna to take a walk upon the cliff-top +with him. She agreed because she had not the strength to oppose +his desire; but if David had had any experience with suffering +women, he would have seen at once how ineffectual his effort would +be. The gray, icy, indifferent sea had nothing hopeful to say to +her. The gray gulls, with their stern, cold eyes, watchful and +hungry, filled her ears with nothing but painful clamoring. There +was no voice in nature to cry, "Comfort," to a bruised soul. + +She said the wind hurt her, that she was tired, that she would rather +sit still in the house and shut her eyes and think of Vala. She +leaned so heavily on him that David was suddenly afraid, and he +looked with more scrutiny into her face. If his eyes had been opened +he would have seen over its youth and beauty signs of a hand that +writes but once; for when despair assumes the dignity of patience +it carries with it the warrant of death. + +They went slowly and silently back to the house, and as they +approached it David said, "Some one has called, for the door is +open." And they walked a little faster, so that Nanna's cheeks +flushed with the movement and the wind. + +Matilda Sabiston sat on the hearthstone grumbling at the cold, +while the man-servant who had brought her so far was piling the peats +upon the fire to warm her feet and hands. When David and Nanna +entered she did not move, but she turned her eyes upon them with a +malignant anger that roused in both a temper very different from +that in which their hopeless walk had been taken. It was immediately +noticeable in Nanna. She dropped David's hand and walked forward +to her visitor, and they looked steadily at each other for a few +moments. Then Matilda said: + +"Think shame of yourself, to be so soon at the courting again, and, +above all, with him!" + +Nanna took no notice of the remark, but asked, "Why are you here? I +wish to have no dealings with you, for no good can come of them." + +"Would I come here for good? There is no good in any of your kind. I +came here to tell you that I was glad that there is one Borson less." + +"There has been death among your own kin, mistress," said David, "and +such death as should make the living fear to bring it to remembrance." + +"I know it. You ought to fear. Did you slay Nicol, as your father +slew Bele Trenby, by water? or did you poison him with drugs? or is +your hand red with his life-blood? And now, before the fish have had +time to pick his bones, you are wooing his wife." + +"Will you let Nanna alone? She is ill." + +"Ill? Babble! Look at her rosy cheeks! She has been listening to your +love-words. Who sent you to the _Sea Rover_? What were you doing +there? A great plot! A wicked plot against poor Nicol!" + +"I went to the _Sea Rover_ because--" + +"Very ready you were to go to Nicol's ship and to do your will there! +Oh, it was a great opportunity! None to see! none to tell tales! +But I know you! I know you! The black drop of murder is in every +Borson's veins." + +"Mistress, you are an old woman, and you may say your say. If you +were a man it would be different. I would cut out your lying tongue, +or make it eat its own words." + +With railing and insolence she defied him to the act, and David stood +looking at her with his hands in his pockets. As for Nanna, she +had thrown off her cloak and seated herself on Vala's couch. She +was trying to control her temper; but the little room was already +impregnated with Matilda's personality, and Nanna could not escape +from those indirect but powerful influences that distil from an +actively evil life. + +"I wish, Matilda Sabiston, that you would leave my house," she said. +"I think that you have brought the devil in with you." + +Then Matilda turned in her chair and looked at Nanna. Her face, +handsomely prominent in youth, had become with sin and age like +that of a bird of prey; it was all nose and two fierce, gleaming eyes. + +"Do you talk of the devil?" she screamed. "You, who drove your +husband to sin, and sent your baby to hell!" + +Then Nanna, with a pitiful cry, buried her face in Vala's pillow; +and David, full of anger, said: + +"I will take you from this house, mistress. You were not asked to +come here, and you cannot stay here." + +"I will stay until I have said what you shall listen to. The child +of this woman has been taken for your father's sin. The mother will +go next. Then _you_ will bite the last morsel of Kol's curse. I am +living only to see this." + +"I fear not the curse of any man," said David, in a passion. "There +is no power in any mortal's curse that prayer cannot wither. Keep it +to yourself--you, who believe in it. As for me--" + +"As for you, I will give you some advice. When the new minister is +placed, go and tell him what Liot Borson told you at his death-hour. +For I know well he did not die without boasting of his revenge on +Bele Trenby. Death couldn't shut Liot's mouth till the words were +out of it. Make the confession your father ought to have made, and +let me hear it. I have said it, and fools have laughed at me, and +wise men have hid the words in their hearts; and I will not die +till my words are made true. And if you will not make them true, +then the dead will have their satisfaction, and love will go to +the grave and not to the bridal. Now, then, do what is before you. +I have set you your task." + +She spoke with a rapid passion that would not be interrupted, and +then, still muttering threats and accusations, tottered out of the +cot on her servant's arm. David was speechless. The truth bound him. +What powers of divination this evil woman had, he knew not, but she +at least had driven home the unacknowledged fear in his heart. He sat +down by Nanna and tried to comfort her, but she could not listen to +him. "Leave me alone to-day," she pleaded. "I have had all I can +bear." + +So he went back to Lerwick, feeling with every step he took that +the task Matilda had set him would have to be accomplished. The +humiliation would indeed be great, but if by confession he could ward +off punishment from Nanna he must accept the alternative. Himself he +took not into consideration. No threat and no fear of personal +suffering could have forced him to speak; but if, peradventure, +silence was sin, and sin brought sorrow, then his duty to others +demanded from him the long-delayed acknowledgment. However, he was +not yet certain of the right, and the new minister had not yet +come, and there is always some satisfaction in putting off what +is dubious and questionable. + +The new minister was not finally settled until Christmas. He proved +to be a young man with the air of theological schools still around +him. David was afraid of him. He thought of the tender, mellowed +temper of the old man whose place he was to fill, and wished that +his acknowledgment had been made while he was alive. He feared to +bring his father's spiritual case before one who had never known +him, who had grown up "southward" under very different influences, +who would likely be quite unable to go a step beyond the letter of +the law. + +He talked to Nanna frequently about the matter, and she was more +than inclined to silence. "Let well alone, David," she said. "What +good can come of calling back old sins and sorrows? Who has set you +this task? One who has always hated you. If God had sent, would he +have sent by _her_? No; but when the devil wants a cruel, wicked +messenger, he can get none so fit for his purpose as a bad old woman." + +However, while David hesitated Matilda went to the new minister. +She prefaced her story by a gift of ten pounds for the replenishing +of the manse, and then told it according to her own wishes and +imagination. + +"The minister dead and gone would not listen to me," she said. "He +was a poor creature, and Liot Borson was one of his pets. The man +could do no wrong in his eyes. So I have been sin-bearer for more +than twenty years. Now, then, I look to you to clear this matter to +the bottom, and let the talk about it come to an end once for all." + +"It is a grave matter," said Minister Campbell, "and I am astonished +that my predecessor let it rest so long--though doubtless he did +it for the best, for there will be two sides to this, as to all +other disputes." + +"There is not," answered Matilda, angrily. "All is as I have told +you." + +"But, according to your testimony, Liot Borson's guilt rests on your +dreams. That is a poor foundation." + +"I have always been a foresighted woman--a great dreamer--and I dream +true." + +"But I know not how to call a kirk meeting on a dream." + +"Was the Bible written for yesterday or for to-day?" + +"It was written for every day, unto the end of time." + +"Then look to it. Ask it how many of its great events hang upon +dreams. Take the dream life out of the Bible, minister, and where +are you?" + +"Mistress Sabiston, I am not used to arguing with women, but I will +remind you that the dream life of the Bible does not rest on female +authority. It was the men of the Bible that saw visions and dreamed +dreams. As I remember, only one woman--a pagan, Pilate's wife--is +recorded as being in this way instructed. I should not be inclined to +discipline the memory of Liot Borson on the strength of your dream." + +"There is, or there was, other evidence; for much of it has now +gone away through the door of death. What I want is Liot's own +confession. He made it to his son before he gave up the ghost. Now, +then, let David speak for his father." + +"That is a different thing. If David has a message to deliver, he +must deliver it, or he is recreant to his trust." + +"See to it, then. It is all I ask, but I have a right to ask it." + +"What right?" + +"Bele was my adopted son. I loved him. He was my heir. I was a +lone-living woman, and he was all I had. As I have told you, Liot +wished to marry my niece Karen, that he might heir my property. He +had every reason to get Bele out of his way, and he did it. Ask +his son." + +"I will." + +With these words he became silent, and Matilda saw that there was an +end of the conversation for that time. But she was now more eager +and passionate for the impeachment of Liot's good name than she had +ever been, and she vowed to herself that if Minister Campbell did +not give her satisfaction he should have all the petty misery and +trouble her money and influence could give him. + +The young minister, however, did not hesitate. It was a most +unpleasant legacy to his charge, and he was straitened until he +had done his duty concerning it. He went to see David at once, +and heard from his lips the whole truth. And he was greatly impressed +with the story, for the young man told it with such truth and +tenderness that every word went heartwise. He could think of +nothing better than to call a meeting in the kirk, and summon David +to tell the congregation just what he had told him. And as it had +been Liot's intention to do this very thing himself, the minister +could not see that David would be guilty of any unkindness to his +father's memory. Quite the contrary. He would be fulfilling his +desire and doing for him the duty he had been unable personally to +perform. + +David had nothing to say against the proposal. It turned him faint, +and he wondered if it would be possible for him to stand up in the +presence of his fellows, and in the sight of all the women who +admired and respected him, and do what was required. A cold sweat +covered his face; his large hands felt powerless; he looked at the +minister appealingly, but could not utter a word. + +"You must speak for your father, David. Perhaps you ought to have +spoken before this. We can do so little for the dead that any wish of +theirs that is positive ought to be sacredly granted. What do you +say?" + +"It is hard, minister. But what you say is right, that I will do." + +"We will not touch the Sabbath day, David. I will ask the people to +come to the kirk next Wednesday afternoon. The men will not be at +sea, and the women will be at leisure then. What do you think?" + +[Illustration: PEAT-GATHERERS.] + +"As you think, minister." + +"Tell them just what you have told me. I believe every word you have +said, and I will stand by you--I and all good men and women, I am +sure." + +"Thank you, minister." + +But he could scarcely utter the words. He had often thought of this +ordeal; now that it was really to face, his heart utterly failed +him. He went straight to Nanna, and she forgot her own sorrow in his, +and so comforted and strengthened him that he went away feeling +that all things would be possible if she was always as kind and +sympathetic. + +It was then Friday, and Wednesday came inexorably and swiftly. David +tried in every way to prepare himself, but no strength came from his +efforts. Prayer, nor meditation, nor long memories of the past, +nor hopes for the future, had any potency. He was stupefied by +the thing demanded of him, and the simple, vivid cry which always +brings help had not yet been forced from his lips. But at the +last moment it came. Then the coldness and dumbness and wretched +inertness that had bound him, body and soul, were gone. When he saw +Matilda Sabiston enter the kirk, her eyes gleaming and her face eager +with evil expectations, he felt the wondrous words of David[3] +burning in his heart and on his lips, and he was no longer afraid. +Psalm after psalm went singing through his soul, and he said joyfully +to himself, "Sometimes God is long in coming, but he is _never too +late_." + +The minister did not ascend the pulpit. He stood at the table, and +after a prayer and a hymn he said: + +"We have come together this afternoon to hear what David Borson has +to say in regard to the charge which Matilda Sabiston has made for +twenty-six years against his father Liot Borson." + +"That question was decided long ago," said an old man, rising slowly. +"I heard Minister Ridlon give verdict concerning it at the funeral +of Liot's wife." + +"It was _not_ decided," cried Matilda, standing up, and turning her +face to the congregation. "Liot Borson found it easy to lie at his +wife's coffin-side, but when it came to his own death-hour he did +not dare to die without telling the truth. Ask his son David." + +"David Borson," said the minister, "at your father's death-hour did +he indeed confess to the slaying of Bele Trenby?" + +Then David stood up. All fear had gone, he knew not where. He +looked even taller than his wont. And the light of God's presence +was so close to him that his large, fair face really had a kind +of luminosity. + +"Minister," he answered with a solemn confidence, "minister and +friends, my father at his death-hour expressly said that _he did +not slay Bele Trenby_. He said that he laid no finger on him, that +he fell into his own snare. This is what happened: He met my father +on the moss, and said, 'Good evening, Liot.' And my father said, +'It is dark,' and spoke no more. You know--all of you know--they +were ill friends and rivals; so, then, silence was the best. And +if Bele had been content to be silent and tread slowly in my +father's steps he had reached his ship in safety. But he must talk +and he must hurry; and the first was not wanted, and the second was +dangerous. And after a little my father's shoe-strings came undone, +and he stooped to tie them--who wouldn't, where a false step or a +fall might be death? And Bele went on, and called back to him, 'Is +this the crossing?' And father had not finished fastening his +shoes, and did not answer. So then Bele called again, and it is +likely father would not be hurried by him, and he did not answer +that time, either. And Bele said he was in the devil's temper, and +went on at his own risk. And the next moment there was a cry, and +my father lifted his head hastily, and the man had walked into the +moss, and then who _could_ help him? But well I know, if help had +been possible, my father would have given his own life to save +life, even though the man was ten times his enemy. Over and over I +have seen Liot Borson bring from the sea men who hated him, and whom +no one else would venture life for. Never mortal man walked closer +with God than Liot Borson. I, who have lived alone with him for +twenty years, I know this; and I will dare to say that in the +matter of Bele Trenby he did no worse, and perhaps a great deal +better, than any other man would have done. Why was Bele on the moss? +He was a sailor and a stranger. A man must have life-knowledge of +the moss to walk it in the night-time. When my father was willing to +guide him across it, was it too much that he should be silent, and +that he should let his guide do a thing so necessary as to secure +tightly his shoes on the soft, unstable ground? Was his guide to +let go this safe precaution because Bele was in a hurry to reach +his ship? Was Liot Borson to blame if the man's foolhardiness and +insolent presumption led him into danger and death? As for me, I say +this: I wish to be a man after my father's heart. For he was a +righteous man in all his ways, and kind-hearted to every creature +in trouble; and he was a life-saver, and not a murderer. And this +I, his loving son, will maintain to my last breath. And if, after +these words, any man says, 'Liot Borson was a murderer,' I will +call him a cowardly liar and slanderer at Lerwick Market Cross, and +follow the words to the end they deserve. And God knows I speak the +truth, and the whole truth." + +Then David sat down, and there was an audible stir and movement of +sympathy and approbation. And the minister said: "I believe every +word you have spoken, David. If any present has a word to say, now +is the time to speak." + +Then Elder Hay rose and said: "Of what use is talk? Liot Borson is +dead and judged. How shall we, sinful men ourselves, dare to meddle +with the verdict of the Lord God Almighty? If we in our ignorance or +spite reverse it, what a presumption it will be! And if we confirm +it, is God's decree made stronger by our 'yea, yeas'? What at all +does Mistress Sabiston want?" + +"I want Liot Borson's name taken off the roll," she answered +vehemently. "It has no right in the kirk's books. Cross it out! +Blot it out! It is a shame to the white pages." + +"Is there here any man or woman who will do Mistress Sabiston's will, +and cross out Liot Borson's name for her?" asked the minister. + +There was a deep, emphatic "No!" And the minister continued: "I would +myself rather cut off my right hand than cross out the name of one +who has passed far beyond our jurisdiction. Suppose--and we have a +right to suppose--that the name of Liot Borson is written in the +shining letters of the book of life, and we have crossed it off our +kirk book! What then? I think this question is settled. I never want +to hear it named again. I will enter into no conversations about +it. It has been taken out of our hands by God himself. We will not +dare to discuss in any way what he has already decided. We will now +sing together the Forty-third Psalm." + +And, amid the rustle of the opening leaves, the minister himself +started the psalmody. There was a little air of hurry in his +movements, as if he hasted to drown all contention in singing; +but he had reached his usual grave composure before the end of +the verses, and the benediction fell like the final satisfying +chords of the melody. + +Matilda was dumfounded by such a cutting short of the case, but even +she dared not interrupt functions so holy as praise and prayer. In +the kirk she was compelled to restrain her indignation, but when +she found that the resolution of Minister Campbell not to discuss +the matter or enter into any conversation about it was universally +adopted by the townspeople, her anger found words such as are not +to be met with in books; and she did not spare them. + +David was singularly happy and satisfied. He had been grandly +supported both by God and man, and he was grateful for the pronounced +kindness of his friends, for their hand-shakings and greetings and +loving words and wishes. But when both the enthusiasm and the pang +of conflict were over, oh, how good it was to clasp Nanna's hand, +and in this perfect but silent companionship to walk home with +her! Then Nanna made a cup of tea, and they drank it together, and +talked over what had been said and done, finally drifting, as +they always did, to that invincible necessity that whatever is +could not but so have been. And though their words were, as all human +words about God must be, terribly inadequate, yet their longing, +their love, and their fears were all understood. And He who is so +vast and strange when + + With intellect we gaze, + Close to their hearts stole in, + In a thousand tender ways. + +----- +[Footnote 3: 1 Ps. xxvii.] + + + + +IX + +A SACRIFICE ACCEPTED + + +After this the winter came on rapidly and severely. The seas were +dangerous, and the fishing precarious and poor, and the fever +still lingered, many cases being found as far north as Yell. Thus +suffering and hard poverty and death filled the short days and made +twice as long the stretched-out nights of the dark season. The old +cloud gathered round David, and when the minister preached of +"the will and purposes of God," it seemed to David that they were +altogether penal. The unfathomable inner side of his life was all +gloom and doubt; how, then, could the material side be cheerful and +confident? + +The new minister, however, had conceived a strong liking for the +young man; they were nearly of the same age; and he saw that David +was troubled about spiritual matters, and took every opportunity +to discuss them with him. But he had too much of the schools, he +was too untried, and had been, in the main, too happily situated to +comprehend David's views. The very piety of the two men was +different. David's was lively, personal, and tender; it sat in the +center. The minister's was official, intellectually accepted, +conscientiously practised. It was not strange, then, that any +dissent David ventured to make was not conceived of as a soul-query, +but rather as a challenge against impregnable truths. He was +always ready to defend Calvinism, though David did not consciously +attack it. To be sure, he said strange and daring things--things +which came from his heart, and which often staggered his opponent; +but all the more Minister Campbell put on his armor to defend his +creed. + +"It is a hard religion for men and for women," said David, as they +talked a stormy afternoon away on Barbara's hearthstone; "and why +God gave it, I can't tell; for, after all, minister, the blessedness +of heaven is an eternity older than the damnation of hell." + +"Men called it unto themselves, and it is not hard, David. It is a +grand creed; it is a strong anchor for a weak soul; it won't let a +man drift into the deep waters of infidelity or the miserable shoals +of 'perhaps' and 'suppose.' Neither will it let him float on waves +of feeling like Arminianism, and be content with 'ahs' and 'ohs,' +and shrink from 'therefores.' Calvinism makes strong men before the +Lord, David, and strong men are not laid on rose-leaves and fed on +pap and cream." + +"That is true, minister; for it seems to me that whenever men are +to be fishers, and fight the winds and waves, or to make a living +out of bare moor or rocks, or to do any other of the hard work of +life, they are born Calvinists." + +"Just so, David. Arminians can weave a piece of broadcloth, and +Episcopals can till the rich, juicy fields of England; but God's +hard work--yes, David, and his hard fighting--has to be done by +his Calvinists. They were the only fighting Protestants. But for +Calvinists, Puritans, Huguenots, there would have been no +Reformation. Philip and the Pope would have had their way, and we +should all have been papists or atheists." + +"I know not. You say so, minister, and it is doubtless true." + +"It is true. You have been born to a noble creed; accept it with +thankfulness and without demur. You are not called upon to understand +it or to reason about it. It is faith that conquers." + +And after such an oration the young minister would go away with a +proud sense of duty well performed, burning with his own evangel, +and liking David well for being the invoker of his enthusiasm. But +David, after his departure, was always silent and depressed; his +intellect may have been quickened, but he was not comforted. + +The sunshine that had brightened his life during the past year was +gone, for he had found out that all his happiness was bound up in +Nanna, and Nanna was on the verge of despair. Day by day she grew +thinner and whiter, more melancholy and more silent. She did only +work enough to supply the barest needs of life, and for the most +part sat hour after hour with dropped hands and closed eyes; or she +was seized with a restlessness that drove her to motion, and then +she walked the small bounds of her room until physical exhaustion +threw her into deep sleep. + +David watched her with a sad patience. He had felt severely the +loss of Vala, and he did not presume to measure Nanna's sorrow by +his own. He knew it was natural that for some weeks she should weep +for a child so dear, whose little life had been so pitifully wronged, +so bound to suffering, so cruelly cut short. But when this natural +sorrow was not healed by time, when Nanna nursed her grief to despair +and dwelt with it in the valley of the shadow of death, he thought it +time to reason with her. + +"You will kill yourself, Nanna," he said. + +"Well, then, David, I hate life." + +"Do you wish to die?" + +"No; I am afraid to die. I know that I am sinning every day in +weeping for my poor lost bairn, and yet I am that way made that +I cannot help but weep for her. For it is my fault, David, all my +fault. Why, then, did He pursue the child with His anger from the +first hour of her sorrowful life to the last? And where is she now? +O David, where is she? If God would only let me go to her!" + +"_Whist_, Nanna! You know not what you are saying. You might be +asking yourself away from His presence." + +"I would rather be with Vala. If that be sinful, let me thole the +wages of my sin. Where is my dear bairn?" + +"I heard Elder Kennoch say we may have a hope that God will +eventually take pity on those babes who have done no actual sin." + +"But _when_ will he take pity? And until he does, how can the wee +souls endure his anger? O David, my heart will break! My heart will +break!" + +"Nanna, listen to this: when Elga Wick's child died, the minister +said there was a benign interpretation of the doctrines which taught +us that _none but elect infants died_. It would be unjust, Nanna, +unless the child was elect, not to give it the offer of salvation." + +"What good would eighty years of 'offers' do, if there was no +election to eternal life?" + +"Nanna, your father was a child of God, and you have loved him from +your youth upward." + +"Can that help Vala?" + +"Even so. He keeps his mercy for children's children, to the third +and fourth generation of them that fear him. Vala was in the direct +succession of faith." + +"You know what her father and his folk have been?" + +"Yes, I know." + +"Oh, why did my father let me marry the man? He should rather have +tied me hands and feet, and cast me into the depths of the sea. He +should have said to me, 'Nanna, you may have a bairn, and it may be a +child of sin, and thus foreordained to hell-fire.' Do you think then +I would have wed Nicol Sinclair?" + +"Ay, I think you would." + +"Do you believe that I was born for that end?" + +"I think you had set your heart on Nicol at all risks." + +"At that time Nicol was in good favor with all folk." + +"You have told me that your father liked him not, and that he said +many things to you against a marriage with him; so, then, if your +heart had not been fully set on its own way, his 'no' would have +been sufficient. If we heed not fathers and mothers and teachers, we +should not heed, Nanna, no, not if one came from the dead to warn us." + +"That is an awful truth, David." + +"And one must speak truth to heal a wounded soul. If there be a +canker in the body, you know well the doctor must not spare the +sharp knife. But I would not put away hope for Vala--no, indeed!" + +"Why, David? Oh, why?" + +"Has she not kindred in His presence? Will He not remember His +promise to them? Will they forget to remind Him of it? I think not so +hardly of the dead." + +"David, I will tell you the last awful truth. I never could get +the poor little one baptized,--things ay went so against it,--and +she died without being signed and sealed to His mercy; that is the +dreadful part of her death. I was ashamed--I was afraid to tell +you before. O David, if you had stayed by Vala instead of going to +that man, you might perhaps have won her this saving grace; but +it was not to be." + +David almost fainted with the shock of this intelligence. He +understood now the anguish which was driving Nanna into the grave; +and he had no comfort to offer her, for Nanna seemed to make out a +terribly clear case of rejection and of foreordained refusal. + +"I was feared to ask Nicol to stand with the child when it ought to +have been presented in the kirk," she said. + +"But your father?" asked David. + +"I was feared to ask my father to stand in Nicol's place, lest it +should make Nicol harder to me than he was. And," she continued, +weeping bitterly as she spoke, "I thought not of Vala dying, and +hoped that in the future there might be a way opened. If father had +lived he would have seen to the child's right, but he was taken just +when he was moving in the matter; and then Nicol grew harder and +harder, and as for the kirk, he would not go there at all, and I +had no kin left to take his place. Then the child was hurt, and I +was long ill, and Nicol went away, and my friends grew cold, fearing +lest I might want a little help, and even the minister was shy and +far off. So I came out here with my sorrow, and waited and watched +for some friend or some opportunity. 'To-morrow, perhaps to-morrow,' +I said; but it was not to be." + +"Nanna, you should have told me this before. I would have made the +promises for Vala; I would have done so gladly. Surely you should +have spoken to me." + +"Every day I thought about it, and then I was feared for what would +happen when Nicol found it out. And do you not think that Matilda +Sabiston would have sent him word that I had set you to do his +duty? She would have twitted him about it until he would have raged +like a roaring lion, and blackened my good name, and yours also, and +most likely made it a cause for the knife he was ever so ready to +use. And then, David, there are folks--kirk folks, and plenty of +them--who would have said, 'There must be something wrong to set +Nicol Sinclair to blood-spilling.' And Matilda Sabiston would have +spoken out plainly and said, 'There is something wrong'--and this +and that, and more to it." + +"And well, then?" + +"Well, then, being Matilda, no one would have thought of +contradicting her; for she gives much money to the kirk and the +societies, and has left all she has to free slaves. No; there was +nothing to be done but to thole and be quiet." + +"There might be some excuse for being quiet when Vala was not in +danger, but when her life was going, why did you not send for the +minister?" + +"This is what happened; for, David, God's will must be done. No +one came here but the doctor. On the second day he said, 'She is +not very sick.' At his next visit he said, 'She will die.' Then I +told him the child was not baptized, and prayed him to go for the +minister. And he said he would certainly do so. But he was called +here and there, and he forgot that day; and the next morning very +early he went to the manse, and the minister had gone away; and +the great storm kept him away for three days; so when he got back +the message had been overlaid by many others." + +"O Nanna! Nanna!" + +"Yes, it was so. After the storm the doctor came again, and Vala was +dying. And then he rode like a man riding for his life, and spoke +very angrily to the minister, who was not to blame at all, and the +minister was hurt at his words; but he came that afternoon, and it +was _too late_." + +"O Nanna! O Vala! Vala! Vala!" + +"So the minister was angry with me for my delays, and he spoke the +hard truth to me, and every word went to my soul like a sword. I +thought I should die that night, and I longed to die. There was no +friend to say to me one word of comfort, and I did not dare to pray. +I was feared God would ask me, 'Where is your child?' O David, what +for at all did God make us? For this life is full of sorrow, and +it is little comfort to be told that there is a worse one after it." + +David took her hand, and a tear dropped upon her slender brown +fingers; but he did not answer her question. Indeed, he could +not. The same bewildering inquiry had haunted his own sad life. +So much sorrow and pain, and at the end perhaps to be "hardly +saved," while all around innumerable souls were going down, without +hope or helper, to eternal wrath! What for at all had God made man +for such a fate? + +For that he had _not_ made man for such ends was a fact outside their +understandings, even as a possibility; and its very suggestion at +this hour would have appeared to both an impiety of the worst kind. +So they consoled each other in the only way possible to souls at +once so miserable and so submissive. With clasped hands they wept +together over the inscrutable fate which had set them so hard a +lesson to learn as life, with so little light to learn it by. + +Natural events deepened the gloom of this spiritual thraldom. Storms +of unusual severity swept over the bare, brown land, and the fishing +was not only dangerous, but often impossible. But David regarded +frost and snow, stormy winds and raging seas, poverty, pestilence, +and death, as part of the eternal necessity pursuing its never-ending +work through discord and imperfection. When there was a possibility +of casting the fifty fathoms of ling-lines, David and his helpers +were sure to venture out; when it was clearly impossible, he went +to Nanna's and sat with her. + +To the ordinary observer there did not seem to be pleasure enough +in these visits to reward him for the stormy walk over the moor. +His clothing was often wet or stiff with frost, or he was breathless +with fighting the strong wind, and not infrequently he lost himself +in the bewildering snow; but with some trifle in his pocket for +Nanna, he always managed to reach her. It might be only a fish, or a +loaf of bread which Barbara had baked for her, or a little fresh +milk in a bottle; but it was an offering made rich by that true +affection which counted weariness rest for her sake. + +He generally found her sitting brooding by her peat fire. Now, peat +is cheap in Shetland, and Nanna had no stint of the fuel, but it +does not make a cheerful fire. Its want of flame and its dull-red +glow stimulate sorrowful musing; and as there is little radiation +of heat from it, those whom it warms must sit close to its embers. +Thus David and Nanna passed many hours of that sad winter. The snow +often veiled what light of day there was, and the great sea-winds +shrieked around the hut and blew the peat smoke down the chimney +into their faces; and there was little warmth or comfort, and none +of the pretty accessories that love generally delights in. + +But David's love was not dependent upon accidentals. He had seen +Nanna when he thought her very finely dressed; he had watched her +when she was happy with her child and contented with his friendship; +but she was not then more beautiful than she was now, when her eyes +were haunted by despairing thoughts, and her face white and sad, +and her noble form was shrouded rather than dressed in the black +gown of her loss and woe. + +To David she was ever Nanna. It was the woman beneath the outward +form he desired--the woman whose tears and fears and wounded love +were part of his own sufferings, whose despair was his despair, whose +personality, even, affected something far deeper and chaster than +that physical emotion too often misnamed love. He knew that he could +live for her, however sorrowful life might be; he knew that he could +gladly die for her, if his death could bring her spiritual peace +or hope. + +Thus, in the red light of the glowing peats, with the stormy +world around them, to David and Nanna the winter months wore +away. When Nanna was able to weep she was then at her best--the +most companionable, the most grateful, and the most affectionate. +And few would think such circumstances favorable to the growth of +love; but that is a great mistake. Love is not perfect love until +it has been watered again and again with tears. + +Of the growth of this affection it is not likely either was quite +unaware; but there is an instinctive dislike in a pure heart to +investigate the beginnings of love. It is like laying bare the roots +of a flower to see how it grows. And in Nanna's case there was even a +fear of such a condition. Love had brought her only heartbreak and +despair. Without deliberate intention, she yet grew a little more +shy of David; she began to restrain spiritual confidence and to weep +alone. He was not slow to feel the change, and it depressed him, and +made Barbara wonder at Nanna's ingratitude and womanish unreason. + +"A good man fretting for her love, when there are hearts and hearts +full waiting for his asking," she said to her neighbor Sally Groat. + +And Sally answered: "Well, well, there is a fool in every one's +sleeve sometimes; and David Borson is that daft about blood-kin, +there is no talking to him. But this is what I say: for all your +kindred, make much of your friends--and a friend you have been to +him, Barbara." + +"Well, then, I have done my best; and friends are to be taken with +their faults. To-day I shall talk to David; for the spring comes on +so quickly, and I heard that my son's ship had been spoke in the +Iceland seas." + +"It is long now since Nanna's baby died, and she still weeps without +end for her. She ought to try and forget. It was but a sickly child, +and never like to be world-wise or world-useful." + +"I wouldn't say such words, Sally," answered Barbara, with some +warmth. "No one can tell a mother, 'Thy heart shall not remember.' I +have laid in earth five children, and do you think I ever slunk +away from heartache by forgetting them? No, indeed! I would have +counted _that_ treason against my own soul." + +"God's blessing! there is none wants to contradict you, Barbara. +Don't be so hasty, woman. But you know there has been death and +weeping in many houses besides Nanna's this winter." + +"To be sure," acknowledged Barbara. "Death has asked no man's leave +to enter; he has gone into the rich man's house as well as into poor +Nanna's hut." + +"Every door is wide enough for a coffin." + +"Yes; and the minister said last Sabbath that it was this which +dissatisfied us with these habitations of clay, and made us lift +our eyes to those eternal in the heavens." + +"Well, then, to come back to David," said Sally, "he is good, and +able to marry. He has saved money, no doubt. Some young men spend +their last bawbee, and just live between ebb and flow. That isn't +David Borson. Besides, Barbara, you ought to tell him how people are +talking." + +"I may do that. David is imprudent, and Nanna is too miserable to +care. Well, then, those who kindle the fire must put up with the +smoke; yet, for all that, I shall have a word or two for him, and +that very soon." + +David had been at sea all night, and while this conversation was +going on he was sleeping; but in the afternoon, as Barbara saw him +preparing to go to Nanna's, she said: + +"Stay a minute, David Borson. I want to speak to you. I had good news +early this morning. My son's ship was met not so far away, and he may +get home at any time, and me not thinking of it." + +"I am glad to hear it, Barbara. Then, also, you will want my room. I +must look for a new place, and that is bad for me." + +"I was thinking of Nanna Sinclair," said Barbara, in a musing manner. +"People do talk about you and her. I have heard say--" + +"'I have heard say' is half a lie," answered David. + +"I think that too; but Nanna's good name is to be thought of, and a +man does not go every day to see a woman for nothing." + +Then David leaped to his feet with a face like a flame. "The shortest +and best answer is doing the thing," he muttered; and he walked +straight to Nanna's house, telling himself as he went, "I have been +too long about it; I must speak now, and she must answer me." + +He was in his fishing-garb, for he intended going to sea with +the tide then rising; but he thought no more of dressing for the +interview than he thought of preparing his speeches. Hitherto he had +in a manner drifted with the current of his great affection, never +consciously asking himself where it was bearing him; but if people +were talking about Nanna, then he must take away all occasion for +suspicion--he must at once ask Nanna to be his wife. And as soon as +he took the first step toward her he felt how close and dear she +had become to him. He knew then that if Nanna was lost all the +world would be nothing. She had grown into his life as the sea and +the stars had grown, and he shrank from any thought that could imply +separation. He walked with rapid steps across the moor, feeling +dimly the beauty of the spring afternoon, with its haze of gold +and purple on the horizon, where the gray clouds opened out in +wistful stretches of daffodil skies. + +The door of Nanna's house stood open, and the wind, full of the sharp +salt savor of the sea, blew life into the little room. Nanna was +busy with her knitting, and the soft, lace-like shawl lay upon her +knee. David shut the door and went to her side. His heart was too +full to hesitate or to choose words; the simplest were the best. + +"Nanna, I have found out that I love you," he said. "Nanna, dearest +woman, do you hear me?" + +Then her cheeks burned rosy, and she looked at David, and her hands +trembled, and the work fell from them. + +"Love me a little, my dear! Love me, Nanna!" + +"I do love you, David. Who in all the world have I but you?" And the +beautiful woman stood up, and he took her within his arms and kissed +her. + +For a moment or two David was happy. His large, fair face shone; +he laughed softly as he drew Nanna to his breast. He was really as +intoxicated with joy as some men are with wine. + +"We will be married next week, Nanna," he said; "this +week--to-morrow, if you will. It has come to this: I must leave +Barbara, and there is a house empty close to the quay, and it shall +be our home, Nanna; for I have sixty pounds, my dear woman, and +at last, at last--" + +Before he reached this point he was sensible of some chill or +dissent, but he was not prepared for Nanna's answer: + +"David, why do you talk of marrying? It is ever that. I will not +marry." + +"Not yet, Nanna? Is it too soon? But why for a dead man will you keep +me waiting?" + +"I think not of any dead man." + +"Is it Vala? Vala would rejoice in our happiness." + +"I will not marry--no, not any man living." + +"Why did you say that you loved me?" + +"I do love you." + +"No; you do not." + +He put her gently away from him, and looked at her with a somber +sternness. "You do not love me," he continued. "If you did, you +would put me first; you would say, 'I will be your wife.' You would +delight to make me happy--I, who have never been happy but in sharing +your joys and sorrows." + +"O David, I do love you!" + +"Then be my wife." + +"I cannot! I cannot!" + +"Then you love me as light, vain women love: to make slaves of men, +and bring them back and back to be hurt. It is not to be so with me. +No, indeed! Farewell, Nanna." + +His voice failed him. He turned toward the door, and for a moment +Nanna could not realize that he was actually bidding her a final +farewell. When she did she flew to his side, and arrested his hand +as he was opening the door. + +"Come back! Come back, David!" she entreated. "You are all wrong; +you are very cruel to me. If you leave me it will break my heart! +It will be the last blow, David. It is the very truth." + +He hesitated enough to make Nanna weep with passionate distress, +and this emotion he was not able to bear. He took her within his +arm again, led her to a chair, and sat down at her side, and as he +kissed the tears from her face said: + +"If indeed you do love me, Nanna--" + +"_If_ I do love you!" she interrupted. "I love none but you. You are +heart of my heart and soul of my soul. I hear you coming when you +are half a mile away. I have no joy but when you are beside me. I +shall die of grief if you leave me in anger. I would count it heaven +and earth to be your wife, but I dare not! I dare not!" + +She was sobbing piteously when she ended this protestation, and +David comforted her with caresses and tender words. "What fears +you, Nanna?" he asked. "Oh, my dear, what fears you?" + +"This is what I fear," she answered, freeing herself from his +embrace, and looking steadily at him. "This is what I fear, David. +If we were married I might have another child--I might have many +children." + +Then he clasped her hand tightly, for he began to see where Nanna was +leading him, as she continued with slow solemnity: + +"Can you, can the minister, can any human being, give me assurance +they will be elect children? If you can, I will be your wife +to-morrow. If you cannot, as the God of my father lives, I will not +bring sons and daughters into life for sin and sorrow here, and for +perdition hereafter. The devil shall not so use my body! To people +hell? No; I will not--not even for your love, David!" + +Her words, so passionate and positive, moved him deeply. He was +the old David again--the light, the gladness, all but the tender, +mournful love of the past, gone from his face. He held both her +hands, and he looked down at them lying in his own as he answered: + +"Both of us are His children, Nanna. We are His by generations and +by covenant. He has promised mercy to such. Well, then, we may have +a reasonable hope--" + +"Hope! No, no, David! I must have something better than hope. I hoped +for Vala, and my hope has been my hell. And as for the child--my God! +where is the child?" + +"We love God, Nanna, and the children of the righteous--" + +"Are no safer than the children of the wicked, David. I have thought +of this continually. There was John Beaton's son; he killed a man, +and died on the gallows-tree, to the shame and the heartbreak of +his good father and mother. The lad had been baptized, too,--given to +God when he drew his first breath,--and God must have rejected +him. Minister Stuart's son forged a note, and was sent with felons +across the sea. His father and mother had prayed for him all the +days of his life; he was brought to the kirk and given to God in +baptism; and God must have rejected him also. Think of good Stephen +and Anna Blair's children. Their daughter's name cannot be spoken +any more, and their sons are bringing down their gray hairs with +sorrow to the grave--with sorrow and shame too. Go through the +whole kirk, the whole town, the islands themselves, and you will +be forced to say, David, that it is the children of the righteous +that go to the devil." + +"Nanna! Nanna!" + +"It is the truth, David. How the good God can treat his bairns so, I +know not; but you and I may also deserve his wrath in like manner. +I am feared to hope different. O David, I am feared to be a mother +again!" + +"Nanna! Nanna! what can I say?" + +"There is nothing to say. If I should meet Vala in that place where +infants 'earnestly desire to see and love God, and yet are not able +to do so,' I should cover my face before the child. If she blamed me, +I should shiver in speechless agony; if she did not blame me, it +would be still harder to bear. Were we only sure--but we are not +sure." + +"_We are not sure._" David repeated the words with a sad +significance. Nanna's argument, evolved from her own misery and +illustrated by that misery, had been before David's eyes for +months. He could not escape from such reasoning and from such +proof, and his whole life, education, and experience went to +enforce the pitiful dilemma in which their love had placed them. + +"It is His will, and we must bear it to the uttermost," continued +Nanna, with a sorrowful resignation. + +"I am very wretched, Nanna." + +"So am I, David, very wretched indeed. I used to think monks and +nuns, and such as made a merit of not marrying, were all wrong; maybe +they are nearer right than we think for. Doubtless they have a tender +conscience toward God, and a tender conscience is what he loves." + +Then David rose from Nanna's side and walked rapidly to and fro +in the room. Motion helped him to no solution of the tremendous +difficulty. And Nanna's patient face, her fixed outward gaze, the +spiritual light of resolute decision in her eyes, gave to her +appearance an austere beauty that made him feel as if this offering +up of their love and all its earthly sweetness was a sacrifice +already tied to the horns of the altar, and fully accepted. + +Now, the law of duty lay very close to David's thoughts; it was an +ever-present consciousness, haunting his very being; but the sensual +nature always shrinks away from it. David sat down and covered his +face with his hands, and began to weep--to sob as strong men sob when +their sorrow is greater than they can bear; as they never sob until +the last drop, the bitterest drop of all, is added--the belief that +God has forsaken them. This was the agony which tore David's great, +fond heart in two. It forced from him the first pitiful words of +reproach against his God: + +"I was sure at last that I was going to be happy, and God is not +willing. From my youth up he has ay laid upon me the rod of +correction. I wish that I had never been born!" + +"My poor lad! but you are not meaning it." And Nanna put her arms +around his neck and wept with him. For some minutes he let her do +so, for he was comforted by her sympathy; but at last he stood up, +passed his hand across his eyes, and said as bravely as he could: + +"You are right, Nanna. If you feel in this way, I dare not force +your conscience. But I must go away until I get over the sore +disappointment." + +"Where will you go to, David?" + +"Who can tell? The countries in which I may have to earn and eat my +bread I know not. But if I was seeing you every day, I might get to +feel hard at God." + +"No, no! He fashioned us, David, and he knows what falls and sore +hurts we must get before we learn to step sure and safe." + +"In the end it may all be right. I know not. But this I know: pain +and cold and hunger and weariness and loneliness I have borne with a +prayer and a tight mouth, and I have never said before that I thought +him cruel hard." + +"His ways are not cruel, my dear love; they are only past our finding +out. The eternal which makes for righteousness cannot be cruel. +And if we could see God with our eyes, and hear him with our ears, +and understand him with our reason, what grace would there be in +believing in him? Did not the minister say last Sabbath that our +life was hid with Christ in God, and that therefore God must first be +pierced ere we could be hurt or prejudiced? Then let us take what +comfort we can in each other's affection, David, and just try and +believe that God's ways are the very best of all ways for us." + +"Sometime--perhaps--" + +"And don't leave me, David. I can bear all things if you are near to +help and comfort me." + +"Ay, ay; but women are different. I cannot fight the temptation when +I am in it; I must run away from it. Farewell! Oh, dear, dear Nanna, +farewell!" + +He kissed the words upon her lips, and went hastily out of the house; +but when he had walked about one hundred yards he returned. Nanna +had thrown herself despairingly upon the rude couch made for Vala, +and on which the child had spent most of her life. There Nanna lay +like one dead. David knelt down by her; he took her within his arms, +kissed her closed eyes, and murmured again upon her lips his last +words of love and sorrow. Her patient acceptance of her hard lot +made him quiver with pain, but he knew well that for a time, at +least, they must each bear their grief alone. + +Nanna's confession of her love for him had made everything different. +In her presence now he had not the power to control his longing +for reciprocal affection. He felt already a blind resentment and +rebellion against fate--a sense of wrong, which it was hard to +submit to. But how could he fight circumstances whose foundations +were in eternity? At this hour, at least, he had come to the limit of +his reason and his endurance. Again and again he kissed Nanna +farewell, and it was like tearing his life asunder when he put away +her clinging arms and left her alone with the terrible problem +that separated their lives. + +There is something worse than the pang of keenest suffering--the +passive state of a subjugated heart. A dismal, sullen stillness +succeeded to David's angry sorrow. He avoided Barbara and shut +himself in his room. And his strong and awful prepossession in +favor of the Bible led him, first of all, to go to the book. But +he found no help there. His soul was tossed from top to bottom, and +he was vanquished by the war in his own bosom. For in our wrestling +alone angels do not always come. And David brought his dogmas over +and over to the Scriptures, and was crushed spiritually between them, +so that at last, worn out with the mental and heart struggle, he +submitted to the fatality he could not alter. + +"I will go the right road," he said, "however cruel that road may +be. Then death may give me back to God a miserable man, but not a +guilty one." + +And he did not comprehend that, in thus preferring an unseen duty +because it was right to a seen pleasure because it was pleasant, he +was consummating that sublime act of faith whose cry of victory is, +"Thy will be done." + +Nanna did not suffer so much. In the first place, the pale, sad, +almost despairing woman was glad and dared, in her despair, because +the man she loved durst not sin, even for her. In the second, her +battle was practically over. She had been in the van of it for +months, and had come gradually to that state of submission which +fears to resist, lest resistance might be found to be fighting +against God. While David was yet in an agony of struggle with +his love and his desires, his tender conscience and his dread of +offending the Deity, Nanna had washed away her tears, and was +strengthening her heart by saying continually, as the glancing +needles glided to and fro: + + My God and Father, while I stray + Far from my home, on life's rough way, + Oh, teach me from my heart to say, + "Thy will be done!" + +For some dauntless, primitive confidence in the love of the Maker of +men is older than any creed. And there were yet hours when Nanna's +soul outleaped its mortal shadow and had mystic flashes, native +and sweet, beyond the reach of will and endeavor--intimations of +serenities and compensations which would be neither small nor long +delayed. + + + + +X + +IN THE FOURTH WATCH + + +Holding despair at bay, David quickly made his preparations for an +extended absence. He hired his boat and lines to Groat's sons, +and on the morning of the second day, after bidding Nanna farewell, +he went to Minister Campbell's to complete his arrangements. The +minister was writing his sermon, and he was not pleased at the +interruption; but when he saw David's face, the shadow of annoyance +on his own passed away like a thought. He dropped his pen, and +turned in his chair so as to see the young man fairly, and then +he asked: + +"What is wrong, David?" + +"I am all at sea, minister, drifting--drifting--" + +"Where's your anchor, David? Can't you steady yourself on God? Can't +you make harbor someway?" + +David shook his head sadly. + +"Then up sail and out to sea, and face the storm. What quarter is +it from?" + +"It comes from a woman." + +"Ah, David, that is bad to buffet. I have been through it. It was +that storm which brought me here. I know all about it." + +[Illustration: GROAT.] + +"Please, minister, I think not. It is Nanna Sinclair." + +"I thought so. You love her, David?" + +"Better than my life." + +"And she does not love you?" + +"She loves me as I love her." + +"Then what is there to make you miserable? In a few months, David, +you will marry her and be happy." + +"Nanna will not marry me in a few months--she will not marry me at +all." + +"Nanna ought not to trouble a good man with such threats. Of course +she will marry. Why not?" + +Then David told the minister "why not." He listened at first with +incredulity, and then with anger. "Nanna Sinclair is guilty of great +presumption," he answered. "Why should she sift God's ordination +and call in question results she is not able to understand? Marriage +is in the direct command of God, and good men and women innumerable +have obeyed the command without disputing. It is Nanna's place to +take gratefully the love God has sent her--to obey, and not to argue. +Obedience is the first round of the ascending ladder, David; and +when any one casts it off, he makes even the commencement of +spiritual life impossible." + +He spoke rapidly, and more as if he was trying to convince himself +than to console David. His words, in any case, made no impression. +David listened in his shy, sensitive, uncomplaining way, but the +minister was quite aware he had touched only the outermost edge of +feeling. David's eyes, usually mild and large, had now his soul +at their window. It was not always there, but when present it +infected and went through those upon whom it looked. The minister +could not bear the glance. He rose, and gently pushed David into +a chair, and laid his hands on his shoulders, and looked steadily at +him. He could see that a gap had been made in his life, and that the +bright, strong man had emerged from it withered and stricken. He +sat down by his side and said: + +"Talk, David. Tell me all." + +And David told him all, and the two men wept together. Yet, though +much that David said went like a two-edged sword through the +minister's convictions, he resented the thrust, and held on to his +stern plan of sin and retribution like grim death, all the more so +because he felt it to be unconsciously attacked. And when David said: +"It is the Shorter Catechism, minister; it is a hard book for +women and bairns, and I wonder why they don't teach them from the +Scriptures, which are easy and full of grace," the answer came +with a passionate fervor that was the protest for much besides the +catechism. + +"David! David! You must say nothing against the Shorter Catechism. +It is the Magna Charta of Calvinism, and woe worth the day for +dear old Scotland when its silver trumpet shall no longer be heard +and listened to. Its rules and bonds and externals are all very +necessary. Believe me, David, few men would remain religious without +rules and bonds and externals." + +"I am, as I said, minister, all at sea. I find nothing within my +soul, nothing within my life-experience, to give me any hope, and +I am going away a miserable man." + +"David, your hope is not to be grounded on anything within yourself +or your life-experience. When you wish to steady your boat, do you +fix your anchor on anything within it, or do you cast your anchor +outside?" + +"I cast it out." + +"So the soul must cast out its anchor, and lay hold, not on anything +within itself, but on the hope set before it. The anchor of your +boat often drags, David, and you drift in spite of it, for there +is no sure bottom; but the soul that anchors on the truth of God, the +immutability of his counsels, the faithfulness of his promises, is +surely steadfast. For I will tell you a great thing, David: God has +given us this double guaranty--he has not only said, but sworn it." + +Thus the two men talked the morning away. Then David remembered +that he had come specially to ask the minister to write out his +will and take charge of the money he would leave behind and the rents +accruing from the hire of his boat and lines. There was nothing +unusual in this request. Minister Campbell had already learned how +averse Shetlanders are to having dealings with a lawyer, and he was +quite willing to take the charge David desired to impose upon him. + +"I may not come back to Shetland," David said. "My father went +away and never returned. I am bound for foreign seas, and I may go +down any day or night. All I have is Nanna's. If she is sick or +in trouble, you will see to her relief, minister. And if I come not +back in five years, sell the boat and lines and make over all to +Nanna Sinclair." + +Then a writing was drawn up to this effect; and David brushed the +tears from his eyes with his right hand, and put it, wet with them, +into the minister's. He had nothing more to say with his lips, but +oh, how eloquent were his great, sad, imploring eyes! They went +together to the manse door, and then the minister followed him to +the gate of the small croft. And as they stood, one on either side +of it, David murmured: + +"Good-by, minister." + +"Good-by, David, and see that you don't think hardly of either your +God or your creed. Your God will be your guide, even unto death; and +as for your creed, whatever faults men may find in it, this thing +is sure: Calvinism is the highest form ever yet assumed by the moral +life of the world." + +The next morning, in the cold white light of the early dawn, David +left Lerwick. The blue moon was low in the west, the mystery and +majesty of earth all around him. At this hour the sea was dark +and quiet, the birds being still asleep upon their rocky perches, +and the only noise was the flapping of the sails, and the water +purring softly with little treble sounds among the clincher chains +and against the sides of the boat. David was a passenger on the +mail-boat. He had often seen her at a distance, but now, being +on board, he looked her over with great interest. She seemed to be +nearly as broad as she was long, very bluff at the bows, and so +strongly built that he involuntarily asked the man at the wheel: +"What kind of seas at all is this boat built for?" + +"She's built for the Pentland Firth seas, my lad, _weather +permitting_. And there's no place on God's land or water where +them two words mean so much; for I can tell you, weather _not_ +permitting, even this boat couldn't live in them." + +Gradually David made his way to Glasgow, and from Glasgow to +London. Queen Victoria had then just been crowned, and one day +David saw her out driving. The royal carriage, with its milk-white +horses, its splendid outriders and appointments, and its military +escort, made a great impression on him, but the fair, girlish face of +the young, radiant queen he never forgot. Hitherto kings and queens +had been only a part of his Bible history; he had not realized their +relation to his own life. Shetland was so far from London that +newspapers seldom reached Lerwick. Politics were no factor in its +social or religious life. The civil lords came to try criminal +cases, but the minister was the abiding power. Until David saw the +young queen he had not heard of her accession to the throne, but with +the first knowledge of her "right" there sprang up in his heart +the loyalty she claimed. Had any one asked him in that hour to +enter her service, he would have stepped on board her war-ships +with the utmost enthusiasm. + +But nobody did ask him, and he found more commonplace employment +on the _Elizabeth_, a trig, well-built schooner, trading to the +Mediterranean for fruits and other products of the Orient. The +position was the very one his father had so earnestly desired. +Touching first at one historic city and then at another, living in +the sunshine, and seeing the most picturesque side of civilization, +David added continually to the store of those impressions which +go to make up the best part of life. + +The captain of the _Elizabeth_ owned the vessel and was very fond +of her; consequently he was not long in finding out the splendid +sea qualities of the young Shetlander. On the fourth voyage he made +David his mate, and together they managed the _Elizabeth_ so cleverly +that she became famous for her speed and good fortune. It was indeed +wonderful to see what consciousness and sympathy they endowed her +with. + +"_Elizabeth_ is behaving well," the captain said one morning, as he +watched her swelling canvas and noted her speed. + +"There isn't much sea on," answered David; "hardly more than what +we used to call in Shetland 'a northerly lipper.' But yet I don't +like the look to the east'ard and the nor'ard." + +"Nor I. You had better tell _Elizabeth_. Talk to her, David; coax +her to hurry and get out of the bay. Promise her a new coat of paint; +say that I think of having her figurehead gilded." + +David was used to hearing _Elizabeth_ treated as if she were a +living, reasonable creature, but he always smiled kindly at the +imputation; it touched something kindred in his own heart, and he +replied: + +"She'll do her best if she's well handled. It's her life as well as +ours, you know." + +"It is; anybody knows that. If you ever went into shipping and +insurance offices, David, you would hear even landsmen say so. They +make all their calculations on the average _life_ of a ship. My lad, +men build her of wood and iron, but there is something more in a +good ship than wood and iron." + +"Look to the east, captain." + +Then there was the boatswain's whistle, and the shout of sailormen, +and the taking in of sails, and that hurrying and scurrying to make a +ship trig which precedes the certain coming of a great storm. And +the Bay of Biscay is bad quarters in any weather, but in a storm +it defies adequate description. When the wind has an iron ring and +calls like a banshee, and the waves rise to its order as high as the +masthead, then God help the men and ships on the Bay of Biscay! + +Five days after the breaking of this storm the _Elizabeth_ was +sorely in need of such potential help. Her masts were gone, the +waves were doubling over her, and her plunges were like the dive +of a whale. At the wheel there was a man lashed,--for the hull was +seldom above water,--and this man was David Borson. He was the +only sailor left strong enough for the work, and he was at the last +point of endurance. The icy gusts roared past him; the spray was +like flying whiplashes; and it was pitiful to see David, with his +bleeding hands on the wheel, stolidly shaking his head as the spray +cut him. + +He had been on deck for forty hours, buffeted by the huge waves, +and he was covered with salt-water boils. His feet were flayed and +frozen, and his hands so gashed that he dared not close or rest +them, lest the agony of unclasping or moving them again should make +him lose his consciousness. He feared, also, that his feet were so +badly frozen that he would never be able to walk on them any more. +These miseries others were sharing with him; but David had been +struck by a falling spar at the beginning of the storm, and there +was now an abscess forming on his lung that tortured him beyond +his usual speechless patience. "God pity me!" he moaned. "God pity +me!" + +When the storm ceased the _Elizabeth_ was as bare as a newly +launched hull, and wallowing like a soaked log. David had fallen +forward on his face, and was asleep or insensible. He did not hear +the handspike thumped upon the deck, and the cry, "_On deck! on deck! +Lord help us! she is going down!_" But some one lifted him on to +a raft which had been hastily lashed together, and the misery that +followed was only a part of some awful hours when physical pain +from head to feet drove him to the verge of madness. He never knew +how long it was before they were met by the _Alert_, a large +passenger packet going into the port of London, and taken on +board. Four of the men were then dead from exhaustion, and the +physician on the _Alert_ looked doubtfully at David's feet. + +"But he is dying," he said, "and why give him further pain?" + +Then a young man stepped forward and looked at David. There was +both pity and liking in his face, and he stooped, and said something +in the dying man's ear. A faint smile answered the words; and the +youth spoke to the doctor, and both of them went to work with a +will. The effort, even then so desperate, was ere long complicated +by fever and delirium, and when David came to himself it was almost +like a new birth. He was weaker than an infant--too weak, indeed, +to wonder or speculate, or even remember. + +He only knew that he was in a large room and that two men were with +him. One was at his bedside, quiet and drowsy; the other was reading +in a Bible, sitting close by the shaded candle. David knew it was a +Bible. Who does not know a Bible, even afar off? No matter how it +may be bound, the book has a homely and familiar look that no other +book has. David shut his eyes again after seeing it; he felt as safe +and happy as if a dear friend had spoken to him. And in a few days +the man with the Bible began to come near him, and to read softly +the most tender and gracious words he could find in that tenderest of +all books. + +This was the beginning of an interval of delicious rest to David. +It was as if some strong angel swung and hushed and wrapped him in +a drowsy, blissful torpor. He felt no pain, not even in his tortured +feet, and his hands lay at rest upon the white coverlet, healed +of all their smarting and aching. For once in his hard life they +were not tired or sore. He knew that he was fed and turned, that +his pillows were made soft and cool, and that there was the vague +sense of kind presence about him; that sometimes he heard, like +a heavenly echo, words of comfort that he seemed to have heard long +ago; that he slept and wakened, and slept again, with a conscious +pleasure in the transitions. + +And he asked no questions. He was content to let life lie in blissful +quiescence, to be still, and keep his eyes closed to the world, and +his ears deaf to its cries. Gradually these sensations increased +in strength. One day he heard his nurse say that it would be well +to remove him into an entirely fresh room. And he knew that he +was lifted in strong arms, and anon breathed a clearer atmosphere, +and slept a life-giving sleep. When he awoke he had new strength. +He voluntarily opened his eyes, and saw a tree waving branches +covered with fresh, crinkly leaves before his window. It was like a +glimpse of heaven. And that afternoon his preserver came to his side +and said: + +"Thee is much better. Can thee listen to me now?" + +Then David looked at the young man and smiled; and their eyes met, +and their hands met, and the well man stooped to the sick man and +kissed his cheek. + +"I am Friend John Priestly," he said. "What is thy name?" + +"David--David Borson--Shetland." + +"David, thee is going to live. That is good news, is it not?" + +"No; life is hard--cruel hard." + +"Yes, but thee can say, 'The Lord is mine helper.' Thee can pray now?" + +"I have no strength." + +"If thee cannot speak, lift up thy hand. He will see it and answer +thee." + +And David's face shadowed, and he did not lift up his hand; also, if +the whisper in his heart had been audible, John Priestly would have +heard him say, "What is the use of prayer? The Lord has cast me off." + +But John did not try the strength of his patient further at that +time. He sat by his side, and laid his hand upon David's hand, and +began to repeat in a slow, assuring voice the One Hundred and Third +Psalm. Its familiar words went into David's ears like music, and +he fell sweetly asleep to its promises. For, though men in their +weakness and haste are apt to say, "The Lord hath forgotten to be +gracious," they who have but once felt his love, though dimly and +far off, cannot choose but trust in it, even to the grave. + +And souls fraternize in their common exile. John Priestly loved +the young man whom he had saved, and David felt his love. As he +came fully back to life the past came clearly back to memory. He +remembered Nanna as those who love white jasmine remember it when its +starry flowers are gone--with a sweet, aching longing for their +beauty and perfume. He remembered those terrible days when physical +pain had been acute in every limb and every nerve, when he had +fainted with agony, but never complained. He remembered his lonely +journey to the grave's mouth, and the dim human phantoms who had +stood, as it were, afar off, and helped and cheered him as best +they could. And he understood that he had really been born again: +a new lease of life had been granted him, and he had come back to +earth, as so many wish to come back, with all his old loves and +experiences to help him in the future. + +If only God would love him! If only God would give him ever so +small a portion of his favor! If he would only let him live humbly +before him, with such comfort of home and friends as a poor fisherman +might have! He wondered, as he lay still, what he or his fathers had +done that he should be so sorely punished. Perhaps he had shown +too great partiality to his father's memory in the matter of Bele +Trenby. Well, then, he must bear the consequences; for even at this +hour he could not make up his mind to blame his father more than +his father had blamed himself. + +And as he lay watching the waving of the green trees, and inhaling +the scent of the lilies and violets from the garden below him, he +began to think of Shetland with a great longing. The bare, brown, +treeless land called him with a hundred voices, and thoughts of +Nanna came like a small bird winging the still, blue air. For sorrow +can endear a place as well as joy; and the little hut on the bare +moor, in which he could see Nanna working at her braiding or her +knitting, was the spot on all the earth that drew his soul with an +irresistible desire. + +Oh, how he wanted to see Nanna! Oh, how he wanted to see her! Just to +hold her hand, and kiss her face, and sit by her side for an hour +or two! He did not wish either her conscience or his own less tender, +but he thought that now, perhaps, they might be cousins and friends, +and so comfort and help each other in the daily trials of their +hard, lonely lives. + +One day, when he was much stronger, as he sat by the open window +thinking of these things, John Priestly came to read to him. John +had a faculty of choosing the sweetest and most comfortable +portions of the Book in his hand. This selection was not without +purpose. He had learned from David's delirious complainings the +intense piety of the youth, and the spiritual despair which had +intensified his sufferings. And he hoped God, through him, would +say a word of comfort to the sorrowful heart. So he chose, with +the sweet determination of love, the most glorious and the most +abounding words of the divine Father. + +David listened with a reserved acceptance. It was in a measure a new +Scripture to him. It appeared partial. When John read, with a kind +of triumph, that the Lord "is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing +that _any_ should perish, but that _all_ should come to repentance," +David made a slight movement of dissent; and John asked: + +"Is not that a noble love? Thee believes in it, David?" + +"No." + +The word was softly but positively uttered. + +"What then, David?" + +"'Some men and angels are predestined unto everlasting life, and +others foreordained to everlasting death; and their number is so +certain and definite that it cannot be either increased or +diminished.'" And David quoted these words from the Confession of +Faith with such confidence and despair that John trembled at them. + +"David! David!" he cried. "Jesus Christ came to seek and to save the +lost." + +"It is impossible for the lost to be saved," answered David, with a +somber confidence; "only the elect, predestined to salvation." + +"And the rest of mankind, David? what of them?" + +"God has been pleased to ordain them to wrath, that his justice may +be satisfied and glorified." + +"David, who made thee such a God as this? Where did thee learn about +him? How can thee love him?" + +"It is in the Confession of Faith. And, oh, John Priestly, I do love +him! Yes, I love him, though he has hid his face from me and, I fear, +cast me off forever." + +"Dear heart," said John, "thee is wronging thy best Friend." + +"If I could think so! Oh, if I could think so!" + +"Well, then, as we are inquiring after God, and nothing less, is it +not fair to take him at his own word?" + +David looked inquiringly at John, but made no answer. + +"I mean, will it not be more just to believe what God says of himself +than to believe what men,--priests,--long ago dead, have said about +him?" + +"I think that." + +Then, one after another, the golden verses, full of God's love, +dropped from John's lips in a gracious shower. And David was +amazed, and withal a little troubled. John was breaking up all his +foundations for time and for eternity. He was using the Scriptures +to grind to powder the whole visible church as David understood it. +It was a kind of spiritual shipwreck. His slow nature took fire +gradually, and then burned fiercely. Weak as he was, he could +not sit still. John Priestly was either a voice in the wilderness +crying "Peace!" and "Blessing!" to him, or he was the voice of a +false prophet crying "Peace!" where there was no peace. He looked +into the face of this new preacher, frank and glowing as it was, +with inquiry not unmixed with suspicion. + +"Well, then," he cried, "if these things be so, let God speak to me. +Bring me a Bible with large letters. I want to see these words with +my eyes, and touch them with my fingers." + +The conversation thus begun was constantly continued, and David +searched the Scriptures from morning to night. Often, as the spring +grew fairer and warmer, the two young men sat in the garden with +the Bible between them; and while the sunshine fell brightly on +its pages they reasoned together of fate and free will, and of +that divine mercy which is from everlasting to everlasting. For +where young men have leisure spiritual things employ them much +more frequently than is supposed. Indeed, it is the young who are +most earnestly troubled about the next life; the middle-aged are too +busy with this one, and the aged do not speculate, because they +will soon know. + +Thus, daily, little by little, through inlets and broader ways +known only to God and himself, the light grew and grew unto perfect +day, and flooded not only the great hills and promontories of his +soul, but also shone into all its secret caves and gloomy valleys +and lonely places. Then David knew how blind and ignorant he had +been; then he was penetrated with loving amazement, and humbled +to the dust with a sense of the wrong he had done the Father of +his spirit; and he locked himself in his room, and fell down on +his face before his God. But into that awful communion, in which +so much was confessed and so much forgiven, it is not lawful to +inquire. + + + + +XI + +THE LOWEST HELL + + +After this the thought of Nanna became an irresistible longing. He +could not be happy until she sat in the sunshine of God's love with +him. He went into the garden and tested his strength, and as soon +as he was in the open air he was smitten with a homesickness not +to be controlled. He wanted the sea; he wanted the great North Sea; +he longed to feel the cradling of its salt waves under him; and +the idea of a schooner reefed down closely, and charging along over +the stormy waters, took possession of him. Then he remembered the +fishermen he used to know--the fishermen who peopled the desolate +places of the Shetland seas. + +"I must go home!" he said with a soft, eager passion. "I must go home +to Shetland." And there was in his voice and accent that pride and +tenderness with which one's home should be mentioned in a strange +land. + +When he saw John next he told him so, and they began to talk of +his life there. John had never asked him of his past. He knew him +to be a child of God, however far away from his Father, and he had +accepted his spiritual brotherhood with trustfulness. He understood +that it was David's modesty that had made him reticent. But when +David was ready to leave he also felt that John had a right to know +what manner of man he had befriended. So, as they sat together that +night, David began his history. + +"I was in the boats at six years old," he said; "for there was always +something I could do. During the night-fishing, unless I went with +father, I was alone; and I had hours of such awful terrors that I am +sad only to remember them; it was better to freeze out on the sea, +if father would let me go with him. I was often hungry and often +weary; I had toothaches and earaches that I never spoke of; I was +frequently so sleepy that I fell down in the boat. And I had no +mother to kiss me or pity me, and the neighbors were shy and far off. +Father was not cross or unkind; he just did not understand. Even in +those days I wondered why God made little lads to be so miserable +and to suffer so much." + +He spoke then in a very guarded way about that revelation in the +boat, for he felt rebuked for his want of faith in it; and he said +sorrowfully, as he left the subject, "Why, then, should God send +angels to men? They are feared of them while they are present, and +they doubt them when they are gone away. He sent one to comfort me, +and I denied it to my own heart; yes, even though I sorely needed +the comfort." + +Then he took John to Shetland with him. He showed him, in strong, +simple words, the old Norse town, with its gray skies and its +gray seas, and its fishing-smacks hanging to the rushing sides of +foaming mountains. He described the hoary cliffs and their world +of sea-birds, the glorious auroras, the heavenly summers, and the +deadly chillness of the winter fogs as one drift after another +passed in dim and desolate majesty over the sea and land. + +Slowly and with some hesitation he got to Nanna in her little stone +hut, braiding her straw and nursing her crippled baby. The tears +came into his eyes, he clasped his knees with his hands as if to +steady himself, while he spoke rapidly of her marriage with Nicol +Sinclair, the drowning of her father and brothers, the cruelty of her +husband, his desertion, his return, Nanna's terror of losing Vala, +the fatal typhus, her desolation, and her spiritual anguish about +Vala's condition. All these things he told John with that powerful +eloquence which is born of living, intense feeling. + +John was greatly moved by the whole simple, tragic story, but he +spoke only on the last topic, for it seemed to him to dwarf all +other sorrow. It roused his indignation, and he said it was a +just and holy anger. He wondered how men, and especially mothers, +could worship a God who was supposed to damn little children before +they were born. He vowed that neither Moloch nor Baal, nor any pagan +deity, had been so brutal. He was amazed that ministers believing +such a doctrine dared to marry. What special right had they to +believe their children would all be elect? And if there was a shadow +of doubt on this subject, how awful was their responsibility! Nanna's +scruples, he said, were the only possible outcome of a conscientious, +unselfish soul believing the devilish doctrine. And he cried out +with enthusiasm: + +"Nanna is to be honored! Oh, for a conscience as tender and void of +offense toward God! I will go to Shetland and kiss the hem of her +garment! She is a woman in ten thousand!" + +"Well, then," said David, softly, "I shall take comfort to her." + +"To think," said John, who was still moved by a holy anger, "to +think that God should have created this beautiful world as a nursery +for hell! that he should have made such a woman as Nanna to suckle +devils! No, no, David!" he said, suddenly calming himself; "thee +could never believe such things of thy God." + +"I was taught them early and late. I can say the Confession of Faith +backward, I am sure." + +"Let no man-made creed impose itself on thee, David--enter into thee, +and possess thee, and take the place of thy soul. The voice that +spoke from Sinai and from Bethlehem is still speaking. And man's +own soul is an oracle, if he will only listen to it--the inward, +instant sense of a present God, and of his honorable, true, and only +Son Christ Jesus." + +"I will listen, if God will speak." + +"Never thee mind catechisms and creeds and confessions. The Word of +God was before them, and the Word will be the Word when catechisms +and confessions are cast into the dusty museums of ancient things, +with all the other shackles of the world in bondage. David, there +is in every good man a spiritual center, answering to a higher +spiritual center in the universe. All controversies come back to +this." + +"I wish, John Priestly, that you could see Nanna, and speak comfort +to her heart." + +"That must be thy message, David. And be sure that thee knows well +the children's portion in the Scriptures. Thee must show Nanna that +_theirs is the kingdom_. What we win through great tribulation they +inherit through the love of the Father. _Theirs is the kingdom_; and +there is no distinction of elect or non-elect, as I read the title." + +"I count the hours now until I am able to travel. I long for the sea +that stretches nor'ard to the ice, and the summer days, when the +sunset brightens the midnight. No need to egg me on. I am all the +time thinking of the old town growing out of the mist, and I know +how I shall feel when I stand on the pier again among the fishers, +when I hurry through the clean, quiet streets, while the kind people +nod and smile, and call to each other, 'Here is David Borson come +back again.'" + +"And Nanna?" + +"She is the heart of my longing." + +"And thee is taking her glad tidings of great joy." + +"I am that. So there is great hurry in my heart, for I like not to +sit in the sunshine and know that Nanna is weeping in the dark." + +"Thee must not be discouraged if she be at first unable to believe +thy report." + +"The hour will come. Nanna was ever a seeker after God. She will +listen joyfully. She will take the cup of salvation, and drink it +with thanksgiving. We shall stand together in the light, loving God +and fearing God, but not afraid of him. Faith in Christ will set her +free." + +"But lean hard upon God's Word, David. There is light enough and +help enough for every strait of life in it. Let thy creed lie at +rest. There are many doors to scientific divinity, but there is only +one door to heaven. And I will tell thee this thing, David: if men +had to be good theologians before they were good Christians, the +blessed heaven would be empty." + +"Yet, John, my theology was part of my very life. Nothing to me was +once more certain than that men and women were in God's hand as clay +in the potter's. And as some vessels are made to honor, and some to +dishonor, so some men were made for salvation and honor, and others +for rejection and dishonor." + +"Clay in the potter's hand! And some for honor, and some for +dishonor! We will even grant that much; but tell me, David, does +the potter ever make his vessels for _the express purpose of +breaking them_? No, no, David! He is not willing that _any_ should +perish. Christ is not going to lose what he has bought with his +blood. The righteous are planted as trees by the watercourses, +but God does not plant any tree for fuel." + +"He is a good God, and his name is Love." + +"So, then, thee is going back to Shetland with glad tidings for many +a soul. What will thy hands find to do for thy daily bread?" + +"I shall go back to the boats and the nets and lines." + +"Would thee like to have a less dangerous way of earning thy bread? +My father has a great business in the city, and thee could drive one +of the big drays that go to the docks." + +"I could not. I can carry a ship through any sea a ship can live +in; I could not drive a Shetland shelty down an empty street. I +am only a simple sea-dog. I love the sea. Men say for sure it is in +my heart and my blood. I must live on the sea. When my hour comes +to die, I hope the sea will keep my body in one of her clean, cool +graves. If God gives me Nanna, and we have sons and daughters, they +shall have a happy childhood and a good schooling. Then I will put +all the boys in the boats, and the girls shall learn to grow like +their mother, and, if it please God, they shall marry good men and +good fishers." + +"It seems to me that the life of a fisher is a very hard one, and +withal that it hath but small returns." + +"Fishers have their good and their bad seasons. They take their +food direct from the hand of God; so, then, good or bad, it is all +right. Fishers have their loves and joys and sorrows; birth and +marriage and death come to them as to others. They have the same +share of God's love, the same Bible, the same hope of eternal life, +that the richest men and women have. It is enough." + +"And hard lives have their compensations, David. Doubtless the +fisherman's life has its peculiar blessings?" + +"It has. The fisher's life is as free from temptation as a life can +be. He _has_ to trust God a great deal; if he did not he would very +seldom go into the boats at all." + +"Yet he holds the ocean 'in the hollow of his hand.'" + +"That is true. I never feel so surely held in the hollow of his hand +as when the waves are as high as my masthead, and my boat smashes +into the black pit below. There is none but God then. Thank you, +Friend John, but I shall live and die a fisherman." + +"Would thee care to change Shetland for some warmer and less stormy +climate?" + +"Would a man care to change his own father and mother for any other +father and mother? Stern and hard was my poor father, and he knew not +how to love; but his memory is dear to me, and I would not break +the tie between us--no, not to be the son of a king! My native land +is a poor land, but I have thought of her green and purple moors +among gardens full of roses. Shetland is my _home_, and home is sweet +and fair and dear." + +"Traveling Zionward, David, we have often to walk in the wilderness. +Thee hast dwelt in Skye and in Shetland; what other lands hast thee +seen?" + +"I have been east as far as Smyrna. I sat there and read the message +of 'the First and the Last' to its church. And I went to Athens, +and stood where St. Paul had once stood. And I have seen Rome and +Naples and Genoa and Marseilles, and many of the Spanish and French +ports. I have pulled oranges from the trees, and great purple grapes +from the vines, and even while I was eating them longed for the +oat-cakes and fresh fish of Shetland." + +"Rome and Naples and Athens! Then, David, thee hast seen the fairest +cities on the earth." + +"And yet, Friend John, what hells I saw in them! I was taken through +great buildings where men and women die of dreadful pain. I saw other +buildings where men and women could eat and sleep, and could not +think or love or know. I saw drinking-hells and gambling-hells. I saw +men in dark and awful prisons, men living in poverty and filth +and blasphemy, without hope for this world or the next. I saw men +die on the scaffold. And, John, I have often wondered if this world +were hell. Are we put here in low, or lower, or lowest hell to work +out our salvation, and so at last, through great tribulation, win +our weary way back to heaven?" + +John Priestly was silent a few moments ere he answered: "If that were +even so, there is still comfort, David. For if we make our bed in +any of such hells,--mind, _we_ make it,--even there we are not beyond +the love and the pity of the Infinite One. For when the sorrows of +hell compassed David of old, he cried unto God, and he delivered +him from his strong enemy, and brought him forth into a large place. +So, then, David, though good men may get into hell, they do not need +to stay there." + +"I know that by experience, John. Have I not been in the lowest pit, +in darkness, in the deeps, in that lowest hell of the soul where +I had no God to pray to? For how could I pray to a God so cruel that +I did not dare to become a father, lest he should elect my children +to damnation? a God so unjust that he loved without foresight of +faith or good works, and hated because it was his pleasure to hate, +and to ordain the hated to dishonor and wrath?"[4] + +"And yet, David?" + +"In my distress my soul cried out, '_God pity me! God pity me!_' And +even while I so wronged him he sent from above--he sent you, John; +he took me, he drew me out of many waters,--for great was his mercy +toward me,--and he delivered my soul from the lowest hell." + +----- +[Footnote 4: Confession of Faith, chap. 3, secs. v-vii; chap. 16, +sec. vii.] + + + + +XII + +"AT LAST IT IS PEACE" + + +A week after this conversation David was near Lerwick. It was very +early in the morning, and the sky was gray and the sea was gray, +and through the vapory veiling the little town looked gray and silent +as a city in a dream. During the voyage he had thought of himself +always as hastening at once to Nanna's house, but as soon as his +feet touched the quay he hesitated. The town appeared to be asleep; +there was only here and there a thin column of peat smoke from the +chimneys, and the few people going about their simple business in +the misty morning were not known to him. Probably, also, he had +some unreasonable expectation, for he looked sadly around, and, +sighing, said: + +"To be sure, such a thing would never happen, except in a dream." + +After all, it seemed best that he should go first to Barbara +Traill's. She would give him a cup of tea, and while he drank it +he could send one of Glumm's little lads with a message to Nanna. +There was nothing of cowardice in this determination; it was +rather that access of reverential love which, as it draws nearer, +puts its own desire and will at the feet of the beloved one. + +Barbara's door stood open, and she was putting fresh fuel under +the hanging tea-kettle. The smell of the peat smoke was homely and +pleasant to David; he sniffed it eagerly as he called out: + +"Well, then, mother, good morning!" + +She raised herself quickly, and turned her broad, kind face to him. +A strange shadow crossed it when she saw David, but she answered +affectionately: + +"Well, then, David, here we meet again!" + +Then she hastened the morning meal, and as she did so asked question +after question about his welfare and adventures, until David said a +little impatiently: + +"There is enough of this talk, mother. Speak to me now of Nanna +Sinclair. Is she well?" + +"Your aunt Sabiston is dead. There was a great funeral, I can tell +you that. She has left all her money to the kirk and the societies; +and a white stone as high as two men has come from Aberdeen for her +grave. Well, so it is. And you must know, also, that my son has +married himself, and not to my liking, and so he has gone from me; +and your room is empty and ready, if you wish it so; and--" + +"Yes, yes, Barbara! Keep your room for me, and I will pay the price +of it." + +"I will do that gladly; and as for the price, we shall have no words +about that." + +"All this is well enough, but, mother! mother! what is there to hide +from me? Speak with a straight tongue. Where is Nanna?" + +Then Barbara said plainly, "Nanna is dead." + +With a cry of amazed anguish David leaped to his feet, instinctively +covering his ears with his hands, for he could not bear such words to +enter them. "_Dead!_" he whispered; and Barbara saw him reeling and +swaying like a tottering pillar. She pushed a chair toward him, and +was thankful that he had strength left to take its support. But +she made no outcry, and called in none of the neighbors. Quietly she +stood a little way off, while David, in a death-like silence, +fought away the swooning, drowning wave which was making his heart +stand still and his limbs fail him. For she knew the nature of the +suffering man--knew that when he came to himself there would be +none but God could intermeddle in his heart's bitterness and loss. + +After a sharp struggle David opened his eyes, and Barbara gave him a +drink of cold water; but she offered neither advice nor consolation. +Only when David said, "I am sick, mother, and I will go to my room +and lie down on my bed," she answered: + +"My dear lad, that is the right way. Sleep, if sleep you can." + +About sunsetting David asked Barbara for food; and as she prepared it +he sat by the open window, silent and stupefied, dominated by the +somber inertia of hopeless sorrow. When he began to eat, Barbara took +from a china jar two papers, and gave them to him. + +"I promised Nanna to put them into your hands," she said. + +[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO NANNA'S COTTAGE.] + +"When did she die?" + +"Last December, the fourteenth day." + +"Did you see her on that day?" + +"I was there early in the morning, for I saw there was snow to fall. +She was dead at the noon hour." + +"You saw her go away?" + +"No; I was afraid of the storm. I left her at ten o'clock. She could +not then speak, but she gave me the papers. We had talked of them +before." + +"Then did she die alone?" + +"She did not. I went into the next cottage and told Christine Yell +that it was the last hour with Nanna; and she said, 'I will go to +her,' and so she did." + +"You should have stayed, mother." + +"My lad, the snow was already falling, and I had to hasten across +the moor, as there was very good reason to do." + +Then David went out, and Barbara watched him take the road that led +to Nanna's empty cottage. The door opened readily to the lifted +latch, and he entered the forsaken room. The peat fire had long +ago burned itself to ashes. The rose-plant, which had been Nanna's +delight, had withered away on its little shelf by the window. But +the neighbors had swept the floor and put the simple furniture in +order. David drew the bolt across the door, and opened the papers +which Nanna had left for him. The first was a bequest to him of the +cottage and all within it; the second was but a little slip on which +the dying woman had written her last sad messages to him: + + Oh, my love! my love! Farewell forever! I am come to the end + of my life. I am going away, and I know not where to. All is + dark. But I have cast myself at His feet, and said, "Thy will + be done!" + + * * * * * + + I am still alive, David. I have been alone all night, and every + breath has been a death-pang. How can His eternal purpose need + my bitter suffering? Oh, that God would pity me! His will be + done! + + * * * * * + + My love, it is nearly over. _I have seen Vala!_ At last it is + peace--peace! His will be done! Mercy--mercy--mercy-- + +These pitiful despairs and farewells were written in a large, +childish hand, and on a poor sheet of paper. David spread this +paper upon Vala's couch, and, kneeling down, covered it with tears +and kisses; but anon he lifted it up toward heaven, and prayed as +men pray when they feel prayer to be an immediate and veritable +thing--when they detain God, and clasp his feet, and cling to his +robe, and will not let him go until he bless them. + +Christine Yell had seen David enter the cottage, and after an hour +had passed she went to the door intending to speak to him; but +she heard the solemn, mysterious voice of the man praying, and she +went away and called her neighbors, Margaret Jarl and Elga Fae and +Thora Thorson. And they talked of David a little, and then Magnus +Thorson, the father-in-law of Thora, being a very old man, went +alone into Nanna's cottage to see David. And after a while the +women were called, and Christine took with her a plate of fish and +bread which she had prepared; and David was glad of their sympathy. + +They sat down outside the door. The tender touch of the gray gloaming +softened the bleak cliffs and the brown moorland, and the heavens +were filled with stars. Then softly and solemnly Christine spoke of +Nanna's long, hard fight with death, and of the spiritual despair +which had intensified her suffering. + +"It was in season and out of season that she was at Vala's grave," +said Christine, "and kneeling and lying on the cold ground above her; +and the end was--what could only be looked for--a cough and a fever, +and the slow consumption that wasted her away." + +"Was there none of you to comfort her?" + +"It is true, David, that the child was never baptized," said +Christine; "so, then, what comfort could there be for her? And +then she began to think that God had never loved her." + +"Thanks to the Best, she knows now how far wrong she was," said +David, fervently; "she knows now that his love is from everlasting +to everlasting. Her poor heart, wearied with so many sorrows and +troubled by so many fears, has tasted one supreme happiness--that +God is love." + +"She thought for sure that he was continually angry with her. 'If +he had cared for my soul,' she said to me, one day, 'he would not +have let me marry Nicol Sinclair. He would have kept his hand about +me until my cousin David Borson came from the Hebrides. And if he +had cared for my poor bairn he would not, by this and that, have +prevented the minister coming to baptize her." + +"Was she long ill?" asked David. + +"At the beginning of last winter she became too ill to go to the +ordinances, and too feared to open her Bible, lest she should read +her own condemnation in it; and so gradually she seemed to lose all +hope, either for this life or the next one. And folk wearied of her +complaining, I think." + +"The elders and the minister, did they not try to comfort her?" + +"At first Elder Peterson and Elder Hoag came to see her; but Nanna +put strange questions to them--questions they could not answer; +and they said the minister could not answer them, either--no, nor +the whole assembly of the kirk of Scotland. And I was hearing that +the minister was angered by her words and her doubting, and he +told her plainly 'women had no call to speer after the "why" of +God's purposes.' And indeed, David, she was very outspoken,--for she +was fretful with pain and fever,--and she told him that she was +not thankful to go to hell for the glory and honor of God, and that, +moreover, she did not want to go to heaven if Vala was not there. +And when the minister said, '_Whist_, woman!'--for he was frightened +at her words,--she would not be still, but went on to wonder how +fathers and mothers could be happy, even in the very presence of +God, if their sons and daughters were wandering in the awful outer +darkness; and, moreover, she said she was not grateful to God for +life, and she thought her consent to coming into life on such hard +terms ought to have been first asked." + +And Christine looked at David, and ceased speaking, for she was +afraid that her words would both anger and trouble the young man. +But David's eyes were full of happy tears, and there was a tender +smile round his mouth. He was thinking of the glad surprises that +Nanna must have had--she who belonged to the God of compassions. +After all her shuddering questions and lamentable doubts and cruel +pain, the everlasting arms under her; Vala and her beloved dead to +comfort her; ineffable peace; unclouded joy; the night past; the +last tear wiped away! At that moment he felt that it was too late to +weep for Nanna; indeed, he smiled like one full of blessed thought. +And Christine, a little irritated by the unexpected mood, did not +further try to smooth over the hard facts of the lonely woman's +death-bed. + +"The minister was angry with her, and he said God was angry. And +Nanna said, well, then, she knew that he did not care about her +perishing; it was all one to him. A little happiness would have +saved her, and he refused her the smallest joy; and she did not +see how crushing the poor and broken-hearted in the dust increased +his glory. The minister told her she was resisting God, and she said, +no; that was not possible. God was her master, and he smote her, +and perhaps had the right to do so; but she was not his child: no +father would treat a child so hardly as he had treated her. She +was a slave, and must submit, and weep and die at the corner of the +highway. And, to be sure, the minister did not think of her pain +and her woman's heart,--what men do?--and he thought it right to +speak hard words to her. And then Nanna said she wished they would +all leave her alone with her sorrow, and so they did." + +Then, suddenly and swiftly as a flash of light, a word came to David. +His heart burned, and his tongue was loosened, and then and there +he preached to the old man and the three women the unsearchable +riches of the cross of Christ. He glorified God because Nanna had +learned Christ at the radiant feet of Christ, in the joy and love of +the redeemed. He took his Bible from his pocket, and repeated all +the blessed words he had marked and learned. Until the midnight +moon climbed cold and bright to the zenith he spoke. And old Magnus +Thorson stood up, leaning on his staff, full of holy wonder, and +the women softly sobbed and prayed at his feet. And when they parted +there was in every heart a confident acceptance of David's closing +words: + +"Whoever rests, however feebly, on the eternal mercy shall live +forever." + +After this "call" sleep was impossible to David. That insight +which changes faith into knowledge had comforted him concerning his +dead. He lay down on Vala's couch, and he felt sure that Nanna's +smile filled the silence like a spell; for there are still moments +when we have the transcendental faculties of the illuminated who, +as the apostle says, "have tasted of the powers of the world to +come"--still moments when we feel that Jacob's ladder yet stands +between heaven and earth, and that we can see the angels ascending +and descending upon it. He was so still that he could hear the +beating of his own heart, but clear and vivid as light his duty +spread out before him. He had found his vocation, and, oh, how +rapidly men grow under the rays of that invisible sun! + +The next morning he went to see the minister. He was seated, writing +his sermon, precisely as David had found him on the occasion of his +last visit. So much had happened to David since that morning that he +found it difficult to believe nothing had happened to the minister. +He looked up at the interruption with the same slight annoyance, but +the moment he saw David his manner changed. He rose up quickly and +went to meet him, and as he clasped his hand looked with curious +intentness into his face. + +"You are much changed, David," he said. "What has happened to you?" + +"Everything, nearly, minister. The David Borson who left here two +years ago is dead and buried. I have been born again." + +"That is a great experience. Sit down and tell me about it." + +"Yes, minister, but first I must speak of Nanna Sinclair." + +"She is dead, David; that is true." + +"She has gone home. She has gone to the God who loved her." + +"I--hope so." + +"I know it is so. Nanna loved God, and those who love God in life +will find no difficulty in going to him after life is over." + +"She had a hard life, and it was all in the dark to her." + +"But at the death-hour it was light, though the light was not of this +world." And David told the minister about the farewell message +she had written him, and its final happy words, "_At last it is +peace--peace!_" He could not bear that any eyes should see the +paper, or any hand touch it, but his own; but he wished all to +know that at the death-hour God had comforted her. + +"She suffered a great deal, David." + +"What ailed her, minister?" + +"What ails the lamp, David, when it goes out? There is no oil, that +is all. Nanna used up all her strength in weeping and feeling; the +oil of life wastes quickly in that way." + +"O minister, I am so sorry that I left her! It was selfish and cruel. +I wish now that I could cover her hands with kisses, and ask her +pardon on my knees; but I find nothing but a grave." + +"Ah, David, it is death that forces us to see the selfishness that +comes into our best affections. Self permitted you to give all you +had to Nanna, but forbade you to give yourself. There was self even +in your self-surrender to God. If you could have seen that long, long +disappointed look in Nanna's eyes, and the pale lips that asked so +little from you--" + +"O minister, spare me! She asked only, 'Stay near me, David'; +and I might have stayed and comforted her to the end. Oh, for one +hour--one hour only! But neither to-day nor to-morrow, nor through +all eternity, shall I have the opportunity to love and soothe +which I threw away because it hurt me and made my heart ache." +And David bowed his head in his hands and wept bitterly. + +Alas! love, irreparably wronged, possesses these eternal memories; +and the soul, forced to weep for opportunities gone forever, has +these inconsolable refinements of tenderness. "One hour--one hour +only!" was the cry of David's soul. And the answer was, "No, never! +She has carried away her sorrow. You may, indeed, meet her where +all tears are dried and forgotten; but while she did weep you were +not there; you had left her alone, and your hour to comfort her has +gone forever." + +After a short silence the minister went to his desk, and brought +from it David's purse, and he laid it, with the will that had been +written, before him. "It is useless now," he said. "Nanna has need +of nothing you can give her." + +"Did it do any good, minister?" + +"Yes, a great deal. When Nanna was no longer able to come to the +kirk, I went to see her. She was miserably sick and poor, and it +made my heart ache to watch her thin, trembling fingers trying to +knit. I took her work gently out of her hands, and said, 'You are +not able to hold the needles, Nanna, and you have no need to try to +do so. There is provision made for all your wants.' And she flared +up like whin-bushes set on fire, and said she had asked neither kirk +nor town for help, and that she trusted in God to deliver her from +this life before she had to starve or take a beggar's portion." + +"O minister, if God had not comforted me concerning her, you would +break my heart. What did you say to the dear woman?" + +"I said, 'It is neither kirk nor town nor almsgivers that have +provided for your necessity, Nanna; it is your cousin David Borson.' +And when she heard your name she began to cry, '_O David! David!_' +And after I had let her weep awhile I said, 'You will let your cousin +do for you at this hour, Nanna?' And she answered, 'Oh, yes; I +will take any favor from David. It was like him to think of me. +Oh, that he would come back!' So I sent her every week ten shillings +until she died, and then I saw that she was decently laid beside her +mother and her little child; and I paid all expenses from the +money you left. There is a reckoning of them in the papers. Count +it, with the money." + +"I will not count after you, minister." + +"Well, David, God has counted between us. It is all right to the +last bawbee. Now tell where you have been, and what you have seen +and suffered; for it is written on your face that you have seen many +hard days." + +Then David told all about his wanderings and his shipwreck, and the +mercy of God to him through his servant John Priestly. But when he +tried to speak of the new revelation of the gospel that had come +to him, he found his lips closed. The fire that had burned on them +the night before, when he spoke under the midnight sky to the old +fisherman and the fisherwives, was dead and cold, and he could not +kindle it; so he said to himself, "It is not yet the hour." And he +went out of the manse without telling one of all the glorious things +he had resolved to tell. Neither was he troubled by the omission. He +could wait God's time. God, who has made the heart, can always touch +the heart, but he felt that just then his words would irritate +rather than move; besides, it was not necessary for him to speak +unless he got the message. He could not constrain another soul, +but there was One who led by invisible cords. + +As they stood a moment at the manse door the minister said, "Your +aunt Sabiston has gone the way of all flesh." + +"I heard tell," answered David. "How did she go?" + +"Like herself--grim and steadfast to the last. She would not take +to her bed; she met death in her chair. When the doctor told her +Death was in the room, she stood up, and welcomed him to her house, +and said, 'I have long been waiting for your release.' I tried to +talk to her, but she told me to my face that I had nothing to do +with her soul. 'If I am lost, I am lost,' she said; 'and if I am +chosen, who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?' She +said she believed herself to be the child of God, and that, though +she had made some sore stumbles and been fractious and ill to +guide, she had done no worse than many of his well-loved bairns, +and she expected no worse welcome home. 'I have been long away, +minister,' she sighed, 'getting on to a century away, and I'll be +glad to win home again.' And those were her last words." + +"God be merciful to her! In this world, I think, she was an unjust +and cruel woman." + +"She was so, then, without moral disquietude. The sin had got into +her soul, and she was comfortable with it. God is her judge. He only +knew her aright. She left her money wisely and for good ends." + +"I heard tell, to the kirk and the societies and the freedom fund. +Yet she had kinsfolk in the Orkneys." + +"They are all very rich. They went to lawyers about her property, +but Mistress Sabiston had made all too fast and sure for any one to +alter. She was a woman that would have her way, dead or alive." + +"Well, then, this time, it seems, her way is a good way." + +After this David settled his life very much on the old lines. He +went to live in Nanna's cottage, and returned to the boats and +the fishing with Groat's sons. As for his higher duty, that vocation +that had come to him on that blessed night when God opened his +mouth and he spoke wonderful and gracious things of his law, he was +never for a moment recreant to it. But the kingdom of God frequently +comes without observation. To preach a sermon, that was a thing +far outside David's possibilities. The power of the church, and +its close and exclusive privileges, were at that day in Shetland +papal in prerogative. David never dreamed of encroaching on them; +nor, indeed, would public opinion have permitted him to do so. + +As it was, there grew gradually a feeling of unrest about David. +Though he was humble and devout in all kirk exercises, it was known +that the people gathered round him not only in his own cottage, +but at Groat's and Barbara Traill's, and that he spoke to them of +the everlasting gospel as never man had spoken before to them. It +was known that when the boats lay stilly rocking on the water, +waiting for the "take," David, sitting among his mates, reasoned +with them on the love of God, until every face of clay flushed +with a radiance quite different from mere color--a radiance that +was a direct spiritual emanation, a shining of the soul through +mere matter. And as these men were all theologians in a measure, +with their "creed" and "evidences" at their tongues' end, it was +a wonderful joy to watch their doubts, like the needle verging to +the pole, tremble and tremble into certainty. + +[Illustration: "WENT IN AND OUT AMONG HIS MATES."] + +In about three years such opposition as David roused was strong +enough to induce the kirk to consider his behavior. The minister +sent for him, and in the privacy of his study David's opportunity +came at last. For he spoke so eloquently and mightily of the mercy +of the Infinite One that the minister covered his face, and when +the young man ceased speaking, he looked tenderly at him, and sent +him away with his blessing. And afterward he said to the elders: + +"There is nothing to call a session anent. David Borson has been to +the school of Christ, and he is learned in the Scriptures. We will +not silence him, lest haply we be found to be fighting against God." + +Thus for many a year David went in and out among his mates and +friends, living the gospel in their sight. The memory of Nanna +filled his heart; he loved no other woman, but every desolate and +sorrowful woman found in him a friend and a helper. And he drew the +little children like a magnet. He was the elder brother of every +boy and girl who claimed his love; his hands were ever ready to +help them, his heart was ever ready to love them. And in such blessed +service he grew nobly aged. + +He had come to Shetland when the islands were very far off, when +the Norse element ruled them, and the Christianized men and women +of the sagas dwelt alone in the strong, quaint stone houses they +had built. He lived to see the influx of the southern race and +influences, the coming of modern travel and civilization; but he +never altered his life, for in its simple, pious dignity it befitted +any era. + +Now, it is noticeable that good men very often have their desire +about the manner of their death. And God so favored his servant +David Borson. He went out alone one day in his boat, and a sudden +storm came up from the northeast. He did not return. Some said there +had been no time to take in the boat's sail, and that she must have +gone down with her canvas blowing; others thought she had become +unmanageable and drifted into some of the dangerous "races" near +the coast. + +But, this manner or that manner, David went to heaven as he desired, +"by the way of the sea," and God found his body a resting-place +among its cool, clean graves--a sepulcher that no man knoweth of, +nor shall know until the mighty angel sets his right foot upon the +sea, and swears that there shall "be time no longer." + + Transcriber Notes + + Spelling and punctuation inaccuracies were silently corrected. + Archaic and variable spelling is preserved. + Author's punctuation style is preserved. + Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prisoners of Conscience, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE *** + +***** This file should be named 31835.txt or 31835.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/8/3/31835/ + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |