The Dew of Their Youth Part 39

"Maybe," snapped Jen, that unswerving Calvinist, "seeing is believing.

Boyd Connoway _may_ have got grace. I put no limit to the Almighty's power. But it takes more than grace to convert a man from laziness!"

Boyd lifted his hand with a gesture so dignified that even from the good-for-nothing it commanded respect.

"'Tis from the Lord, Miss Jen, and it behoves us poor mortals noways to resist. Israel Kinmont never would smuggle, as ye know, and yet he never had any luck till the highest tide of the year brought the 'Old Tabernacle' up, with a cargo of sea-coal in her, half-way between Killantringan Village and the Nitwood.

"'She's settling, Israel,' said his son Jacob, that's counted soft, but can raise the tune at meeting--none like him for that.

"'Even so,' said Israel, 'the will of the Lord be done!'

"'She's settling fast! Both my feet are wet!' said Jacob, holding on to a rope.

"'Amen!' cried Israel, 'if it only were His will that she should come ten yards higher up, she would be on the very roadside. Then I would open a door into the hold of her after the coal is out, and you and I, Jacob, could rig up seats and windows like a proper Tabernacle--fit for Mr. Whitefield himself to preach in! Truly the service of the Lord is joyful. His law doth rejoice the heart.'

"So said Israel, and, just as I am tellin' you, there came a great inward swirling of the tide, a very merracle, and lo! the _Tabernacle_ was laid down as by compa.s.s alongside the Nitwood road, whence she will never stir till the day of Final Judgment, as the scripture is. And Israel, he cuts the door, and Jacob, he gets out the coals and sells them to the great folk, and the supervisor, he stands by, watching in vain till he was as black as a sweep, for the brandy that was not there.

But he pet.i.tioned Government that Israel should have a concession of that part of the foresh.o.r.e--being against all smuggling and maybe thinking to have him as a sort of spiritual exciseman.

"Yes, Mr. Lyon," Boyd went on, gratified by the interest in his tale, "'tis wonderful, when you think on't. Empty from stem to stern she is, with skylights in her deck and windows in her side! Why, there are benches for the men and a pulpit for Israel. As for Jacob, he has nothing but his tuning-fork and a seat with the rest.

"And indeed there's more chance that Israel will put a stop to the Free-trading than all the preventives in the land. He preaches against it, declaring that it makes the young men fit for nothing else, like every other way of making money without working for it."

"Ah, Israel's right there!" came from my grandfather.

"But every light has its shadow, and he's made a failure of it with d.i.c.k Wilkes, and may do the like with my wife, Bridget.

"For Bridget, she will be for ever crying at me these days, 'Here, you Tabernacle man, have you split the kindling wood?' Or 'No praise-the-Lord for you, lad, till your day's work is done! Go and mend that spring-cart of the General's that his man has been grumbling about for a month!'

"And sometimes I have to fill my mouth with the hundred and twenty-first psalm to keep from answering improper, and after all, Bridget will only ask if I don't know the tune to that owld penny ballad. 'Tis true enough about the tune" (Boyd confessed), "me having no pitch-pipe, but Bridget has no business to miscall scripture, whether said or sung!

"As to d.i.c.k Wilkes, that got his lame leg at the attack on--well, we need not go opening up old scores, but we all know where--has been staying with us, and that maybe made Bridget worse. Aye, that he has.

There's no one like Bridget for drawing all the riff-raff of the countryside about her--I know some will say that comes of marrying me.

But 'tis the ould gennleman's own falsehood. You'll always find Boyd Connoway in the company of his betters whenever so be he can!

"But d.i.c.k Wilkes had our 'ben' room, and there were a little, light, active man that came to see him--not that I know much of him, save from the sound of voices and my wife Bridget on the watch to keep me in the kitchen, and all that.

"But Old Israel would never give up d.i.c.k Wilkes. He kept coming and coming to our house, and what he called 'wrestling for d.i.c.k's soul.'

Sometimes he went away pleased, thinking he had gotten the upper hand.

Then the little light man would come again, and there was d.i.c.k just as bad as ever. 'Backsliding' was what Israel called it, and a good name, I say, for then the job was all to do over again from the beginning. But it was the Adversary that carried off d.i.c.k Wilkes at the long and last."

"Ah!" came a subdued groan from all the kitchen. Boyd gloomily nodded his head.

"Yes," he said, "'tis a great and terrible warning to Bridget, and so I tell her. 'Twas the night of the big meeting at the Tabernacle, when Israel kept it up for six hours, one lot coming and another going--the Isle o' Man fleet being in--that was the night of all nights in the year that d.i.c.k Wilkes must choose for to die in. Aught more contrary than that man can't be thought of.

"It happened just so, as I say. About four o'clock we were all of us shut up in the kitchen, and by that we knew (Jerry and I, at least) that d.i.c.k Wilkes had company--also that so far as repentance went, old Israel's goose was cooked till he had another turn at his man. And then after six we heard him shouting that he was going to die--which seemed strange to us. For we could hear him tearing at his sea-chest and stamping about his room, which is not what is expected of a dying man.

"But d.i.c.k knew better. For when we went down and peeped at the keyhole, he heard us, and called on us all to come our ways in. And--you will never guess in a thousand years--he had routed a flag out of his sea-chest. The 'Wicked Flag' it was,--the pirates' flag--black, with the Death's Head and cross-bones done in white upon it, the same that he had hoisted on seas where no questions were asked, when he commanded the old _Golden Hind_. And wrapping himself in that, he said, 'Tell old Israel that I died _so_!' And we, thinking it was, as one might say, braving the Almighty and his poor old servant, kept silence. And then he shouted, 'Promise, ye white-livered rascals, or I've strength to slit your wizzards yet. Tell him I died under the Black!'

"And Bridget, who was feared herself, said, 'Whist, for G.o.d's sake, do not bring a curse on the house!'

"And then he just cursed the house from flooring to roof-tree, and so went to his own place!

"Dead? Well, yes--dead and buried is old d.i.c.kie Wilkes. But poor Israel Kinmont is quite brokenhearted. He says that d.i.c.k was the first that ever broke away, and that he is not long for this world himself now that he has lost d.i.c.k. It was always cut-and-come-again when you were converting d.i.c.k.

"But Israel has an explanation, poor old fellow.

"'It was not Grace that missed fire,' he says, 'but me, the unworthy marksman. And for that I shall be smitten like the men who, with unanointed eyes, looked on the ark of G.o.d that time it went up the valley from Ekron to Bethshemish, with the cows looking back and lowing for their calves all the way. I were always main sorry for them cows!'

old Israel says."

[Footnote 2: Harvest home merrymakings.]

CHAPTER XL

THE GREAT "TABERNACLE" REVIVAL

Though Boyd Connoway had not said anything directly threatening the house of Heathknowes or its inmates, his story of his own "conversion"

and the death of d.i.c.k Wilkes under the Black Flag somehow made us vaguely uneasy. The door of the house was locked at eight. The gates of the yard barricaded as in the old time of the sea raids from the _Golden Hind_.

So strong was the feeling that Irma would gladly have returned before our time to the little White House above the meadow flats, and to the view of the Pentlands turning a solid green b.u.t.t towards the Archers'

Hall of the Guid Toon of Edinburgh.

But it was not so easy to quit Heathknowes. My grandmother held tightly to Duncan the Second. I found myself in good case, after the fatigues of the town, to carry out some work on my own account. This, of course, for the sake of my wife's happiness, I would have given up, but after all Irma's plans went to pieces upon the invincible determination of Sir Louis to remain. He was now a lad of seventeen, but older looking than his age. He had his own room at Heathknowes, his books, his occupations.

Indeed we seldom saw him except at meals, and even then often in the middle of dinner he would rise, bow haughtily to the company, and retire without uttering a word. He had learned the lesson from Lalor that plain farm people were no society for such as he. He went as far as he could in the way of insolence, making us pay for the refusal of the lawyers to let him go to London with the member for the county.

I could see the blush rise crimson to Irma's neck and face after such a performance. But by some mysterious divine law of compensation, no sooner had she Baby in her arms, than she forgot all about the sulky boy, sitting moping among his books in the wood parlour, looking out on the red-boled firs of Marnhoul forest.

Israel Kinmont used to frequent us a good deal about this time. He never preached to us, nor indeed would he talk freely of his "experiences"

amongst such Calvinists as my grandfather and grandmother.

"The gold of the kingdom doth not need the refiner's art!" he had said once when this remissness was made a reproach to him. Since the loss of his boat, the _Tabernacle_, he had bought first one donkey and then two with his little savings. These he loaded with salt for Cairn Edward and the farms on the way, and so by a natural transition, took to the trade of itinerant voyager on land instead of on the sea, bringing back a store of such cloths and spices as were in most request among the goodwives of the farm-towns.

He had been so long a sailor man that he could not help it, if a certain flavour of the brine clung to him still. Besides, there were jerseys and great sea-boots to be worn out. Neddy and Teddy, his two fine donkeys, were soon fitted with "steering gear," among the intricacies of which their active heels often got "foul." They "ran aground" with alarming frequency, sc.r.a.ping their pack-saddles against the walls of narrow lanes. Their master knew no peace of mind till, having pa.s.sed the narrows, he found on some moor or common "plenty o' sea-room,"

notwithstanding the danger that "plenty o' sea-room" might induce the too artful Teddy to "turn topsails under," or in other words indulge in a roll upon the gra.s.s.

Finally, Neddy and Teddy were "brought to anchor" in some friendly stable, in none oftener than in ours of Heathknowes, where cargo was unloaded and sometimes even the s.h.i.+ps themselves "docked" and laid up for repairs. For this merciful Israel was merciful to his beasts, and often went into repairing dock for a saddle gall, which another would never have even noticed.

When the pair were browsing free in the field he would call them "to receive cargo," and hoist the Blue Peter by a sounding, "Neddy, ahoy!

Ahoy there, Teddy!" And if, as was likely, they only flourished their heels and refused with scorn to come and be saddled, he uttered his sternest summons, "s.h.i.+p's company, all hands on deck!" which meant that his son Jacob--starboard watch, must come and help port watch--Israel himself, to capture Teddy and Neddy.

Neddy was generally willing enough, unless when led from the plain course of maritime duty by Teddy. On these occasions Israel used to quote from the "articles" relating to the Mutiny Act, and has even been known to go so far as threaten Teddy with "a round dozen" at the main-mast as soon as he could lay hands on a "rope's end."

The which was all the same to Teddy.

It was beautiful to see the flotilla navigating the level surface of Killantringan moor--level, that is, by comparison. For first there were the little waves of the sheep-tracks, then the gentle rollers of the moss-hags, and, last of all, certain black dangerous Maelstroms from which last year's peats had been dug, in which a moment's folly on the part of Neddy or Teddy might engulf the Armada for ever.

As they set sail Jacob Kinmont was first and second mate, but in particular, look-out-man. He went ahead, keeping a wary eye for dangers and obstacles, and on the whole the donkeys followed docilely enough in his wake. Israel's post as captain was behind at the tiller-ropes, whence he shouted exact instructions with nautical exact.i.tude, such as "A point to the west, Neddy!" Or, pathetically, "DID I say nor'-nor'-east, Teddy, or didn't I?"