CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
CONCLUSION.
"We are a queer lot, what-e-ver!" remarked one of the farmers, with adeep sigh and a candid smile, as he looked round the company.
The observation was incontrovertible, if charcoaled faces, lank hair,torn and dripping garments, and a general appearance of drowned-ratinessmay be regarded as "queer."
"My friends," said the laird, digging the carving fork into a coldturkey, "we are also a hungry lot, if I may judge of others by myself,so let me advise you to fall to. We can't afford to sit long over oursupper in present circumstances. Help yourselves, and make the most ofyour opportunities."
"Thank God," said Giles Jackman, "that we have the opportunity to sitdown to sup under a roof at all."
"Amen to that," returned the laird; "and thanks to you all, my friends,for the help you have rendered. But for you, this house and all in itwould have been burnt to ashes. I never before felt so strongly howtrue it is that we `know not what a day may bring forth.'"
"What you say, sir, is fery true," remarked a neighbouring small farmer,who had a sycophantish tendency to echo or approve whatever fell fromthe laird's lips.
"It is indeed true," returned his host, wiping the charcoal from hisface with a moist handkerchief; "but it is the Word that says it, not I.And is it not strange," he added, turning with a humorous look toBarret, "that after all these years the influence of Joan of Arc shouldbe still so powerful in the Western Isles? To think that she should setmy house on fire in this nineteenth century!"
"I am very glad she did!" suddenly exclaimed Junkie, who, having beenpretty well ignored or forgotten by everybody, was plying his knife andfork among the other heroes of the fight in a state of inexpressiblefelicity.
"You rascal!" exclaimed his father; "you should have been in bed longago! But why are you so glad that Joan set the house on fire?"
"Because she gave me the chance to save Blackie's life!" replied Junkie,with supreme contentment.
The company laughed, and continued their meal, but some of them recalledthe proverb which states that "the boy is father to the man," andsecretly prophesied a heroic career for Junkie.
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Ten months passed away, during which period Allan Gordon retired to hisresidence in Argyllshire while his mansion in the Western Island wasbeing restored. During the same period Archie produced innumerable hazyphotographs of Kinlossie House in a state of conflagration; Eddiepainted several good copies of the bad painting into which Milly Mosshad introduced a megatherium cow and other specimens of violentperspective; and Junkie underwent a few terrible paroxysms of intensehatred of learning in all its aspects, in which paroxysms he was muchconsoled by the approval and sympathy of dear little Flo.
During this period, also, Mabberly applied himself to his duties inLondon, unaffected by the loss of the _Fairy_, and profoundly interestedin the success of his friend Barret, who had devoted himself heart andhead to natural history, with a view to making that science hisprofession, though his having been left a competence by his fatherrendered a profession unnecessary, from a financial point of view. Asfor Giles Jackman, that stalwart "Woods-and-Forester" returned to hisadopted land, accompanied by the faithful Quin, and busied himself inthe activities of his adventurous career, while he sought to commend thereligion of Jesus alike to native and European, both by precept andexample, proving the great truth that "godliness is profitable unto allthings, having promise of the life which now is, and of that which is tocome." MacRummle, during the same period, spent much time in his study,writing for publication an elaborate treatise on fishing, with a fewnotes on shooting, in the Western Isles. He was encouraged in this workby a maiden sister who worshipped him, and by the presence of anenormous stuffed eagle in a corner of his study.
One day, towards the close of this period of ten months, a beautifullittle woman and a handsome young man might have been seen riding in oneof the quiet streets of London. They rode neither on horseback, nor ina carriage, still less in a cab! Their vehicle was a tricycle of theform which has obtained the name of "Sociable."
"See, this is the corner, Milly," said the young man. "I told you thatone of the very first places I would take you to see after our marriagewould be the spot where I had the good fortune to run _our_ mother down.So now I have kept my word. There is the very spot, by the lamp-post,where the sweep stood looking at the thin little old lady sopathetically when I was forced to rise and run away."
"Oh, John!" exclaimed Milly, pointing with eager looks along the street;"and there is the thin little old lady herself!"
"So it is! Well, coincidences will never cease," said Barret, as hestepped from the "sociable" and hurried to meet Mrs Moss, who shook herfinger and head at him as she pointed to the pavement near thelamp-post.
"I would read you a lecture now, sir," she said; "but will reserve it,for here is a letter that may interest you."
It did indeed interest all three of them, as they sat together thatafternoon in the sunshine of Milly's boudoir, for it was a long andwell-written epistle from old Molly Donaldson.
We will not venture to weary the reader with all that the good old womanhad to say, but it may perhaps be of interest to transcribe theconcluding sentence. It ran thus,--"You will be glad to hear that mydear Ivor is doing well. He was married in March to Aggy Anderson, an'they live in the old cottage beside me. Ivor has put on the blueribbon. The laird has put it on too, to the surprise o' everybody. ButI think little o' that. I think more o' a bit pasteboard that hangsover my son's mantelpiece, on which he has written wi' his own hand theblessed words--`_Saved by Grace_.'"
THE END.
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