SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 585 | Next

MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"

Mrs Mair was lying in the darkened
closet, where, the door being partly open, she had been listening
with all her might, and was now weeping afresh. Joseph was the
first to speak: still rocking himself with hopeless oscillation, he
said, in a strange muffled tone which seemed to come from somewhere
else--"Gien I kent she was weel deid I wadna care. It 's no like
a father to be sittin' here, but whaur 'll I gang neist? The wife
thinks I micht be duin' something: I kenna what to du. This last
news is waur nor mane. I hae maist nae faith left. Ma'colm, man!"
and with a bitter cry he started to his feet--"I maist dinna
believe there's a God ava'. It disna luik like it--dis 't noo?"
There came an answering cry from the closet; Annie rushed out, half
undressed, and threw her arms about her husband.
"Joseph! Joseph!" she said, in a voice hard with agony--almost
more dreadful than a scream--"gien ye speyk like that, ye 'll
drive me mad. Lat the lassie gang, but lea' me my God!" Joseph
pushed her gently away; turned from her, fell on his knees, and
moaned out--"O God, gien thoo has her, we s' neither greit nor
grum'le: but dinna tak the faith frae 's."
He remained on his knees silent, with his head against the chimney
jamb. His wife crept away to her closet.
"Peter," said Malcolm, "I'm gaein' aff the nicht to luik for the
laird, and see gien he can tell 's onything aboot her: wadna ye
better come wi' me?"
To the heart of the father it was as the hope of the resurrection
of the world.


Pages:
573 574 575 576 577 578 579 580 581 582 583 584 585 586 587 588 589 590 591 592 593 594 595 596 597