Not so! said Ian sharply, the earth is the Lords, and the fulness thereof. I promised to be at Mistress Brodies for dinner at one oclock. What is the time?
McLeod took out his watch:You have twenty minutes, he said. I was just going to tell you that the girl we saw in the cathedral is her niece.
Ian had taken a step or two in the direction of the Brodie house, but he turned his head, and with a bright smile said, Thank you, Ken! and McLeod watched him a moment and then with a sigh softly ejaculated: What a courteous chap he iswhen he is in the mood to be courteousand what a when he is not in the mood.
Ian was at the Brodie house five minutes before one, and he found Mistress Brodie waiting for him. I am glad that you have kept your tryst, she said. We will just have a modest bite now, and we can make up all that is wanting here, at my brother Colls, a little later. I have a pleasant invite for yourself. My good sister-in-law has read some of your fathers sermons in the Sunday papers and magazines, and for their sake she will be glad to see you. I just promised for you.
Thank you, I shall be glad to go with you, and it was difficult for him to disguise how more than glad he was to have this opportunity.
So then, you will put on the best you have with youthe best is none too good to meet Thora in.
Thora?
Thora Ragnor, my own niece. She is the bonniest and the best girl in Scotland, if you will take me as a judge of girls. Good beyond the lave of girls, and so Bishop Hadley asked her special to dress the altar for Easter. He knew there would be no laughing and daffing about the work, if Thora Ragnor had the doing of it.
Is there any reason to refrain from laughing and daffing while at that work?
At Gods altar there should be nothing but prayer and praise. You know what girls talk and laugh about. If they have not some poor lad to bring to worship, or to scorn, they have no heart to help their hands; and the work is done silent and snappy. They are wishing they were at home, and could get their straight, yellow hair on to crimping pins, because Laurie or Johnny would be coming to see them, it being Saturday night.
Then the Bishop thought your niece would be more reverent?
He knew she would. He knew also, that she would not be afraid to be in the cathedral by herself, she would do the work with her own hands, and that there would be no giggling and gossiping and no young lads needed to hold vases and scissors and little balls of twine.
Their moderate bite was a pleasant lingering one. They talked of people in Edinburgh with whom they had some kind of a mutual acquaintance, and Mistress Brodie did the most of the talking. She was a charming story-teller, and she knew all the good stories about the University and its great professors. This day she spent the time illustrating John Stuart Blackie taking his ease in a dressing gown and an old straw hat. She made you see the man, and Ian felt refreshed and cheered by the mental vision. As for Lord Roseberry, he really sat at their modest bite with them. You know, laddie, she said, Scotsmen take their politics as if they were the Highland fling; and Roseberry was Scotlands idol. He was an orator who carried every soul with him, whether they wanted to go or not; and I was told by J. M. Barrie, that once when he had fired an audience to the delirium point, an old man in the hall shouted out:I dinna hear a word; but its grand; its grand!
They barely touched on Scottish religion. Mistress Brodie easily saw it was a subject her guest did not wish to discuss, and she shut it off from conversation, with the finality of her remark that some people never understood Scotch religion, except as outsiders misunderstood it. Well, Ian, I will be ready for our visit in about two hours; one hour to rest after eating and a whole hour to dress myself and lecture the lasses anent behaving themselves when they are left to their own idle wishes and wasteful work.
Then in two hours I will be ready to accompany you; and in the meantime I will walk over the moor and smoke a cigar.
No, no, better go down to the beach and watch the puffins flying over the sea, and the terns fishing about the low lying land. Or you might get a sight of an Arctic skua going north, or a black guillemot with a fish in its mouth flying fast to feed its young. The seaside is the place, laddie! There is something going on there constantly.
So Ian went to the seaside and found plenty of amusement there in watching a family quarrel among the eider ducks, who were feeding on the young mussels attached to the rocks which a low tide had uncovered.
It was a pleasant walk to the Ragnor home, and Rahal and Thora were expecting them. The sitting room was cheery with sunshine and fire glow, Rahal was in afternoon dress and Thora was sitting near the window spinning on the little wheel the marvellously fine threads of wool made from the dwarfish breed of Shetland sheep, and used generally for the knitting of those delicate shawls which rivalled the finest linen laces. On the entrance of her aunt and Ian Macrae she rose and stood by her wheel, until the effusive greetings of the two elder ladies were complete; and Ian was utterly charmed with the picture she madeit was completely different from anything he had ever seen or dreamed about.
The wheel was a pretty one, and was inlaid with some bright metal, and when Thora rose from her chair she was still holding a handful of fine snowy wool. Her blue-robed and blue-eyed loveliness appeared to fill the room as she stood erect and smiling, watching her mother and aunt. But when her aunt stepped forward to introduce Ian to her, she turned the full light of her lovely countenance upon him. Then both wondered where they had met before. Was it in dreams only?
Mother and aunt were soon deep in the fascinating gossip of an Edinburgh winter season, and Thora and Ian went into the greenhouse and the garden and found plenty to talk about until Conall Ragnor came home from business and supper was served. And the wonder was, that Conall bent to the young mans charm as readily as Thora had done. He was amazed at his shrewd knowledge of business methods and opportunities; and listened to him with grave attention, though laughing heartily at some of his plans and propositions.
Mr. Macrae, he said, thou art too far north for me. I do know a few Shetlanders that could pare the skin off thy teeth, but we Orcadeans are simple honest folk that just live, and let live. At which remark Ian laughed, and reminded Conall Ragnor of certain transactions in railway stock which had nonplussed the Perth directors at the time. Then Ragnor asked how he happened to know what was generally considered private information, and Ian answered, Private information is the most valuable, sir. It is what I look for. Then Ragnor rose from the table and said, Let us have a smoke and a little music.
Take thy smoke, Coll, said Mrs. Ragnor, and Mr. Macrae will give us the music. Barbara says he sings better than Harrison. Come, Mr. Macrae, we are waiting to hear thee.
Ian made no excuses. He sat down and sang with delightful charm and spirit A Life on the Ocean Wave and The Bay of Biscay. Then these were followed by the fresh and then popular songs, We May Be Happy Yet, Then Youll Remember Me and The Land of Our Birth. No one spoke or interrupted him, even to praise; but he was well repaid by the look on every face and the kindness that flowed out to him. He could see it in the eyes, and hear it in the voices, and feel it in the manner of all present.
The silence was broken by the sound of quick, firm footsteps. Ragnor listened a moment and then went with alacrity to open the door. I knew it was thee! he cried. O sir, I am glad to see thee! Come in, come in! None can be more welcome! And it was good to hear the strong, sweet modulations of the voice that answered him.
It is Bishop Hedley! said Rahal.
Then I am going, said Aunt Barbara.
No, no, Aunt! cried Thora, and the next moment she was at her aunts side coaxing her to resume her chair. Then the Bishop and Ragnor entered the room, and the moment the Bishops face shone upon them, all talk about leaving the room ceased. For Bishop Hedley carried his Great Commission in his face and his life was a living sermon. His soul loved all mankind; and he had with it an heroic mind and a strong-sinewed body, which refused to recognise the fact that it died daily. For the Bishops business was with the souls of men, and he lived and moved and did his daily work in a spiritual and eternal element.
And if constant commerce with the physical world weakens and ages the man who lives and works in it, surely the life passed amid spiritual thoughts and desires is thereby fortified and strengthened to resist the cares and worries which fret the physical body to decay. Then vainly the flesh fades, the soul makes all things new. This is a great truthit is only by the supernatural we are strong.
The Bishop came in bringing with him, not only the moral tonic of his presence, but also the very breath of the sea; its refreshing tang, and good salt flavour. His smile and blessing was a spiritual sunshine that warmed and cheered and brightened the room. He was affectionate to all, but to Mistress Brodie and Ian Macrae, he was even more kindly than to the Ragnors. They were not of his flock but he longed to take care of them.
I heard singing as I came through the garden, he said, and it was not your voice, Conall.
It was Ian Macrae singing, Conall answered, and he will gladly sing for thee, sir. This promise Macrae ratified at once, and that with such power and sweetness that every one was amazed and the Bishop requested him to sing, during the next days service, a fine Gloria he had just given them in the cathedral choir. And Ian said he would see the organist, and if it could be done, he would be delighted to obey his request.
See the organist! exclaimed Mistress Brodie. What are you talking about? The organist is Sandy Odd, the barbers son! How can the like of him hinder the Bishops wish? Then the Bishop wrote a few words in his pocket book, tore out the leaf, and gave it to Macrae, saying: Mr. Odd will manage all I wish, no doubt. Now, sir, for my great pleasure, play us Home, Sweet Home. I have not been here for four months, and it is good to be with friends again. And they all sang it together, and were perfectly at home with each other after it. So much so, that the Bishop asked Rahal to give him a cup of tea and a little bread; I have come from Fair Island today, he said, and have not eaten since noon.
Then all the women went out together to prepare and serve the requested meal, so that it came with wonderful swiftness, and beaming smiles, and charming words of laughing pleasure. And when he saw a little table drawn to the hearth for him and quickly spread with the food he needed and smelled the refreshing odour of the young Hyson, and heard the pleasant tinkle of china and glass and silver as Thora placed them before the large chair he was to occupy, he sat down happily to eat and drink, while Thora served him, and Conall smoked and watched them with a now-and-then smile or word or two, while Rahal and Barbara talked, and Ian played charminglywith soft pedal downquotations from Beethovens Pastoral Symphony and Hark, Tis the Linnet! from the oratorio, Joshua.
It was a delightful interlude in which every one was happy in their own way, and so healed by it of all the days disappointments and weariness. But the wise never prolong such perfect moments. Even while yielding their first satisfactions, they permit them to depart. It is a great deal to have been happy. Every such memory sweetens after life.
The Bishop did not linger over his meal, and while servants were clearing away cups and plates, he said, Come, all of you, outside, for a few minutes. Come and look at the Moon of Moons! The Easter Moon! She has begun to fill her horns; and she is throwing over the mystery and majesty of earth and sea a soft silvery veil as she watches for the dawn. The Easter dawn! that in a few hours will come streaming up, full of light and warmth for all.
But there was not much warmth in an Orcadean April evening and the party soon returned to the cheerful, comfortable hearth blaze. It is not so beautiful as the moonlight, said Rahal, but it is very good.
True, said the Bishop, and we must not belittle the good we have, because we look for something better. Let us be thankful for our feet, though they are not wings.
Then one of those sudden, inexplicable arrests which seem to seal up speech fell over every one, and for a minute or more no one could speak. Rahal broke the spell. Some angel has passed through the room. Please God he left a blessing! Or perhaps the moonlight has thrown a spell over us. What were you thinking of, Bishop?
I will tell you. I was thinking of the first Good Friday in Old Jerusalem. I was thinking of the sun hiding his face at noonday. Thora, have you an almanac?
Thora took one from a nail on which it was hanging and gave it to him.
I was thinking that the sun, which hid his face at noonday, must at that time have been in Aries, the Ram. Find me the signs of the Zodiac. Thora did so. Now look well at Aries the Ram. What month of our year is signed thus?
The month of March, sir.
Why?
I do not know. Tell me, sir.
I believe that in a long forgotten age, some priest or good man received a promise or prophecy revealing the Great Sacrifice that would be offered up for mans salvation once and for all time. And I think they knew that this plenary sacrament would occur in the vernal season, in the month of March, whose sign or symbol was Aries, the Ram.
But why under that sign, sir?
The ram, to the ancient world, was the sacrificial animal. We have only to open our Bibles and be amazed at the prominence given to the ram and his congeners. From the time of Abraham until the time of Christ the ram is constantly present in sacrificial and religious ceremonies. Do you remember, Thora, any incident depending upon a ram?
When Isaac was to be sacrificed, a ram caught in a thicket was accepted by God in Isaacs place, as a burnt offering.
More than once Abraham offered a ram in sacrifice. In Exodus, Chapter Twenty-ninth, special directions are given for the offering of a ram as a burnt offering to the Lord. In Leviticus, the Eighth Chapter, a bullock is sacrificed for a sin offering but a ram for a burnt offering. In Numbers we are told of the ram of atonement which a man is to offer, when he has done his neighbour an injury. In Ezra, the Tenth, the ram is offered for a trespass because of an unlawful marriage. On the accession of Solomon to the throne one thousand rams with bullocks and lambs were offered up with great gladness. In the Old Testament there are few books in which the sacrificial ram is not mentioned. Even the horn of the ram was constantly in evidence, for it called together all religious and solemn services.
A little circumstance, continued the Bishop, that pleases me to remember occurred in Glasgow five weeks ago. I saw a crowd entering a large church, and I asked a workingman, who was eating his lunch outside the building, the name of the church; and he answered,Its just the auld Rams Horn Kirk. They are putting a new minister in the pulpit today and they seem weel pleased wi their choice.