Christine: A Fife Fisher Girl - Amelia Barr 8 стр.

I shall not leave you, Christine, until I have seen you safely home.

I am at hame here. This is Rulesons hill, and feyther and mither are waiting up for me.

A few imperative words from Angus put a stop to the dispute, and he climbed the hill with her. He went as slowly as possible, and told her at every step how beautiful she was, and how entirely he loved her. But Christine was not responsive, and in spite of his eloquent tenderness, they felt the chill of their first disagreement. When they came in sight of the house, they saw that it was dimly lit, and Christine stood still, and once more bade him good-by.

Angus clasped both her hands in his. My love! My love! he said. If I spoke cross, forgive me.

I hae naething to forgive. I owe you for mair pleasure and happiness, than I can ever return.

Give me one kiss of love and forgiveness, Christine. Then I will know you love Angus and he tried gently to draw her closer to him. Just one kiss, darling.

Na! Na, she answered. That canna be. Im a fisher-lass, and we hae a law we dinna break we keep our lips virgin pure, for the lad we mean to marry.

You are very hard and cruel. You send me away almost broken-hearted. May I write to you?

If youll tell me about a the wonderfuls you see, Ill be gey glad to hear from you.

Then farewell, my love! Do not forget me!

Its not likely Ill forget you, and her voice trembled, as she whispered Farewell! and gave him her hand. He stooped, and kissed it. Then he turned away.

She watched him till in the dim distance she saw him raise his hat and then disappear. Still she stood, until the roll of the carriage wheels gradually became inaudible. Then she knew that she was weeping, and she wiped her eyes, and turned them upon the light in the cottage burning for her. And she thought tenderly of her lover, and whispered to her heart If he had only come back! I might hae given him a kiss. Puir laddie! Puir, dear laddie! His uncle has heard tell o the fisher-lassie, and hes taen him awa from Christine but hes his ain master sae its his ain fault! Christine is oer gude for anyone who can be wiled awa by man, or woman, or pleasure, or gold. Ill be first, or Ill be naething at a!

She found her father alone, and wide awake. Where is Mither? she asked.

I got her to go to bed. She was weary and full o pain. Keep a close watch on your mither, Christine. The trouble in her heart grows warse, I fear. Wha was wi you in your hame-comin?

Angus Ballister.

Weel, then?

It is the last time he will be wi me.

Is that sae? It is just as weel.

He is awa wi his Uncle Ballister, for a year or mair.

Is he thinking youll wait, while he looks oer the women-folk in the rest o the warld?

It seems sae.

You liked him weel enough?

Whiles weel enough for a lover on trial. But what would a lass do wi a husband wha could leave her for a year on his ain particlar pleasure.

I kent you wad act wiselike, when the time came to act. Theres nae men sae true as fishermen. They hae ane dear woman to love, and shes the only woman in the warld for them. Now Cluny

We willna speak o Cluny, Feyther. Both you and Mither, specially Mither, are far out o your usual health. What for did God gie you a daughter, if it wasna to be a comfort and help to you, when you needed it? Im no carin to marry any man.

Please God, you arena fretting anent Angus?

What for would I fret? He was a grand lover while he lasted. But when a man is feared to honor his love with his name, a lass has a right to despise him.

Just sae! But you mustna fret yoursel sick after him.

Me! Not likely!

He was bonnie enou, and he had siller plenty o siller!

Im no thinkin o the siller, Feyther! Na, na, siller isnt in the matter, but

Then as weel, lassie. Ill just creep into Neils bed, for I dinna want to wake your mither for either this, or that, or ony ither thing. Good night, dearie! Youre a brave lassie! God bless you!

CHAPTER V

CHRISTINE AND ANGUS

They did not separate, as if nothing had happened.

A sorrow we have looked in the face, can harm us no more.

Perhaps Christine was not so brave as her father thought, but she had considered the likelihood of such a situation, and had decided that there was no dealing with it, except in a spirit of practical life. She knew, also, that in the long run sentiment would have to give way to common sense, and the more intimate she became with the character of Angus Ballister, the more certain she felt that his love for her would have to measure itself against the pride and will of his uncle, and the tyranny of social estimates and customs.

She was therefore not astonished that Angus had left both himself and her untrammeled by promises. He was a young man who never went to meet finalities, especially if there was anything unpleasant or serious in them; and marriage was a finality full of serious consequences, even if all its circumstances were socially proper. And what would Society say, if Angus Ballister made a fisher-girl his wife!

I wasna wise to hae this, or that, to do wi the lad, she whispered, and then after a few moments reflection, she added, nor was I altogether selfish i the matter. Neil relied on me making a friend o him, and Mither told me she knew my guid sense wad keep the lad in his proper place. Weel, I hae done what was expected o me, and whats the end o the matter, Christine? Ye hae a sair heart, lass, an if ye arena in love wi a lad that can neer mak you his wife, ye are precariously near to it. Then she was silent, while lacing her shoes, but when this duty was well finished, she continued, The lad has gien me many happy hours, and Christine will never be the one to say, or even think, wrang o him; we were baith in the fault if it be a fault as equally in the fault, as the fiddle and the fiddlestick are in the music. Weel, then whats to do? Duty stands high above pleasure, an I must gie my heart to duty, an my hands to duty, even if I tread pleasure underfoot in the highway in the doin o it.

As she made these resolutions, some strong instinctive feeling induced her to dress herself in clean clothing from head to feet, and then add bright touches of color, and the glint of golden ornaments to her attire. I hae taken a new mistress this morning, she said, as she clasped her gold beads around her white throat and Ill show folk that Im not fretting mysel anent the auld one. And in some unreasoning, occult way, this fresh, bright clothing strengthened her.

Indeed, Margot was a little astonished when she saw her daughter. Her husband had told her in a few words just how matters now lay between Ballister and Christine, and she was fully prepared with sympathy and counsels for the distracted, or angry, girl she expected to meet. So Christines beaming face, cheerful voice, and exceptional dress astonished her. Lassie! she exclaimed. Whatna for hae you dressed yoursel sae early in the day?

I thought o going into the toun, Mither. I require some worsted for my knitting. Im clean out o all sizes.

I was wanting you to go to the manse this morning. I am feared for the pain in my breast, dearie, and the powders the Domine gies me for it are gane. I dinna like to be without them.

Ill go for them, Mither, this morning, as soon as I think the Domine is out o his study.

Then Ill be contented. How are you feeling yoursel, Christine?

Fine, Mither!

Twas a grand ploy last night. That lad, Angus Ballister, danced with a and sundry, and sang, and ate wi the best, and the worst o us. I was hearing he was going awa for a year or mair.

Ay, to foreign parts. Rich young men think they arena educated unless they get a touch o France or Italy, and even America isna out o their way. You wad think a Scotch university wad be the complement o a Scotch gentleman!

Did he bid you good-by? Or is he coming here today?

He isna likely to ever come here again.

What for no? Hes been fain and glad to come up here. Whats changed him?

He isna changed. He has to go wi his uncle.

What did he say about marrying you? He ought to hae asked your feyther for ye?

For me?

Ay, for you.

Dont say such words, Mither. There was no talk of marriage between us. What would Angus do with a girl like me for a wife?

You are gude enou for any man.

We are friends. We arena lovers. The lad has been friendly with the hale village. You mustna think wrang o him.

I do think vera wrang o him. He is just one kind o a scoundrel.

You hurt me, Mither. Angus is my friend. Ill think nae wrang o him. If he was wrang, I was wrang, and you should hae told me I was wrang.

I was feared o hurting Neils chances wi him.

Sae we baith had a second motive.

Ay, few folk are moved by a single one.

Angus came, and he went, he liked me, and I liked him, but neither o us will fret oer the parting. It had to be, or it wouldnt hae been. Them above order such things. They sort affairs better than we could.

I dont understand what youre up to, but I think you are acting vera unwomanly.

Na, na, Mither! Ill not play maiden all forlorn for anyone. If Angus can live without me, there isna a woman i the world that can live without Angus as weel as Christine Ruleson can. Tuts! I hae you, Mither, and my dear feyther, and my six big brothers, and surely their love is enough for any soul through this life; forbye, there is the love beyond all, and higher than all, and truer than all the love of the Father and the Son.

I see ye hae made up your mind to stand by Ballister. Vera weel! Do sae! As long as he keeps himsel in foreign pairts, hell neer fret me; but if he comes hame, hell hae to keep a few hundred miles atween us.

Nonsense! Well a be glad to see him hame.

Your way be it. Get your eating done wi, and then awa to the manse, and get me thae powders. Im restless and feared if I have none i the house.

Ill be awa in ten minutes now. Ye ken the Domine doesna care for seeing folk till after ten oclock. He says he hes ither company i the first hours o daybreak.

Like enou, but hell be fain to hear about the doings last night, and hell be pleased concerning Faith getting a sweetheart. I doubt if she deserves the same.

Mither! Dinna say that. The puir lassie!

Puir lassie indeed! Her feyther left her forty pounds a year, till she married, and then the principal to do as she willed wi. I dinna approve o women fretting and fearing anent naething.

But if they hae the fret and fear, what are they to do wi it, Mither?

Fight it. Fighting is better than fearing. Weel, tak care o yoursel and mind every word that you say.

Im going by the cliffs on the sea road.

That will keep you langer.

Ay, but Ill no require to mind my words. Ill meet naebody on that road to talk wi.

I would not say that much.

A suspicion at once had entered Margots heart. I wonder, she mused, as she watched Christine out of sight I wonder if she is trysted wi Angus Ballister on the cliff road. Na, na, she would hae told me, whether or no, she would hae told me.

The solitude of the sea, and of the lonely road, was good for Christine. She was not weeping, but she had a bitter aching sense of something lost. She thought of her love lying dead outside her hearts shut door, and she could not help pitying both love and herself. He was like sunshine on my life, she sighed. It is dark night now. All is over. Good-by forever, Angus! Oh, Love, Love! she cried aloud to the sea. Oh, you dear old troubler o the warld! I shall never feel young again. Weel, weel, Christine, Ill not hae ye going to meet trouble, it isna worth the compliment. Angus may forget me, and find some ither lass to love weel, then, if it be so, let it be so. Ill find the right kind o strength for every hour o need, and the outcome is sure to be right. God is love. Surely that is a I need. Ill just leave my heartache here, the sea can carry it awa, and the winds blow it far off and she began forthwith a tender little song, that died down every few bars, but was always lifted again, until it swelled out clear and strong, as she came in sight of the small, white manse, standing bravely near the edge of a cliff rising sheerly seven hundred feet above the ocean. The little old, old kirk, with its lonely acres full of sailors graves, was close to it, and Christine saw that the door stood wide open, though it was yet early morning.

Itll be a wedding, a stranger wedding, she thought. Hame folk wouldna be sae thoughtless, as to get wed in the morning na, na, it will be some stranger.

These speculations were interrupted by the Domines calling her, and as soon as she heard his voice, she saw him standing at the open door. Christine! he cried. Come in! Come in! I want you, lassie, very much. I was just wishing for you.

I am glad that I answered your wish, Sir. I would aye like to do that, if it be His will.

Come straight to my study, dear. You are a very godsend this morning.

He went hurriedly into the house, and turned towards his study, and Christine followed him. And before she crossed the threshold of the room, she saw Angus and his Uncle Ballister, sitting at a table on which there were books and papers.