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"
A
lean
man
like
you
,
all
bone
and
whipcord
,
need
not
fear
,
"
said
David
.
"
Tut
,
man
,
"
said
Mark
impatiently
,
"
fear
is
not
in
the
question
.
My
trouble
is
that
I
’
ve
a
nice
stomach
and
a
fastidious
nose
.
Death
,
whether
it
comes
by
pest
or
steel
,
is
the
same
to
me
,
and
that
’
s
a
thing
worth
less
than
a
strae
.
.
.
.
God
’
s
curse
on
this
weather
!
.
.
.
To
work
,
Mr
.
David
,
or
I
’
ll
be
rueing
my
bargain
.
"
For
three
days
and
nights
the
three
men
wrought
at
their
repulsive
task
with
niggardly
intervals
for
food
and
sleep
.
They
made
a
list
of
the
stricken
houses
and
forced
their
way
into
them
,
even
when
the
doors
were
bolted
.
The
dead
were
buried
-
-
some
in
the
kirkyard
,
some
in
near
-
by
fields
,
and
this
duty
fell
especially
on
Amos
Ritchie
,
who
performed
it
with
dogged
fidelity
.
Now
and
then
there
was
trouble
-
-
a
crazed
wife
or
mother
would
refuse
to
part
with
the
body
of
a
husband
or
child
,
and
in
some
cases
the
minister
had
to
intervene
with
stern
appeals
.
More
difficult
was
the
business
of
keeping
houses
,
where
the
sick
lay
,
open
to
the
air
and
light
.
David
and
Mark
had
to
drive
cowering
sons
out
of
doors
with
threats
of
violence
,
and
in
some
cases
with
violence
itself
.
One
obstinate
household
had
their
door
smashed
by
Amos
’
s
axe
;
another
was
turned
neck
and
crop
into
the
byre
that
a
sick
woman
might
have
peace
and
air
.
The
three
men
constituted
themselves
a
relieving
force
,
and
had
often
to
do
the
fetching
of
food
and
water
.
Terrible
were
the
sights
revealed
behind
many
of
those
bolted
doors
and
windows
,
and
though
Amos
seemed
unaffected
,
the
other
two
had
often
to
rush
to
the
air
to
check
their
nausea
.
Thanks
they
got
none
,
rarely
even
curses
;
the
miserable
folk
were
too
sunk
in
despair
for
either
.
Yet
it
is
likely
they
would
have
failed
,
had
not
the
news
of
recoveries
got
about
.
Besides
the
hind
at
the
Mains
,
two
children
had
now
weathered
the
storm
and
were
reported
to
be
mending
fast
.
The
communal
mind
of
Woodilee
,
which
up
to
then
had
been
blank
fatalism
and
lethargy
,
was
now
shot
with
gleams
of
hope
.
The
pest
might
have
worked
itself
out
and
be
on
the
decline
:
the
corridor
was
still
long
and
black
,
but
there
was
a
pinprick
of
light
at
the
end
of
it
.
.
.
.
Also
Mark
Riddel
in
himself
was
a
cogent
persuasion
.
The
dark
keen
face
and
the
reputation
of
mystery
and
command
which
he
had
won
at
the
witch
-
pricking
were
arguments
sufficiently
potent
,
apart
from
the
long
sword
which
he
wore
at
his
side
.
For
in
this
work
the
douce
tacksman
of
Crossbasket
had
disappeared
:
it
was
the
captain
of
Mackay
’
s
who
gave
orders
and
saw
that
they
were
obeyed
.
By
Candlemas
it
was
clear
that
the
tide
had
turned
,
for
there
were
more
on
the
way
to
recovery
than
dying
.
Well
it
was
that
the
change
had
come
,
for
the
weather
now
broke
-
-
not
,
as
David
had
prayed
,
in
wholesome
frost
,
but
in
perpetual
drenching
rains
.
The
downpour
had
come
in
an
instant
;
within
half
an
hour
during
the
night
the
wind
had
shifted
,
the
sky
had
clouded
,
and
the
fall
had
begun
.
It
was
the
night
,
the
eve
of
Candlemas
,
which
the
three
men
had
chosen
for
their
work
of
burning
.
Now
that
people
were
beginning
to
move
about
the
streets
again
,
it
was
essential
to
get
rid
of
centres
of
infection
,
and
two
of
the
worst
were
cottages
in
the
clachan
where
all
the
inmates
had
died
.
Such
houses
could
only
be
purified
by
burning
,
and
about
ten
that
night
fire
was
put
to
them
.
Dry
as
tinder
,
they
blazed
furiously
to
heaven
,
and
there
were
those
in
the
parish
,
dabblers
in
witchcraft
,
who
must
have
turned
scared
eyes
to
the
glow
which
was
fiercer
than
any
that
the
altar
in
the
Wood
had
known
.
.
.
.
But
in
an
hour
came
the
rain
,
and
the
murky
smoke
-
wreaths
were
turned
to
steaming
embers
.
It
was
a
proof
of
the
returning
strength
of
the
parish
that
the
burning
of
the
cots
startled
it
out
of
apathy
.
Woodilee
feebly
and
confusedly
began
to
take
stock
of
things
,
and
tongues
started
to
wag
again
.
The
numbness
of
loss
,
the
languor
of
fear
,
gave
place
to
recrimination
.
Who
was
responsible
for
the
calamity
of
the
pest
?
It
must
be
a
mark
of
the
Lord
’
s
displeasure
,
but
against
whom
?
They
remembered
that
their
minister
lay
under
the
ban
of
the
Kirk
-
-
had
been
forbidden
to
conduct
ordinances
-
-
was
convicted
of
malignancy
and
suspected
of
worse
.
In
their
search
for
a
scapegoat
many
fastened
upon
David
.
Practical
folk
said
that
he
had
been
in
Edinburgh
in
the
time
of
plague
,
and
had
maybe
brought
back
the
seeds
of
it
.
The
devout
averred
that
the
uncanny
weather
had
followed
upon
his
public
sins
,
and
that
the
pest
had
come
close
on
the
heels
of
the
Presbytery
’
s
condemnation
.
Was
there
not
the
hand
of
God
in
this
,
a
manifest
judgment
?
The
ways
of
the
Almighty
were
mysterious
,
and
He
might
ordain
that
the
people
should
die
for
the
sins
of
one
man
.
Even
those
who
had
been
on
David
’
s
side
were
shaken
in
their
confidence
.
To
crown
all
,
came
the
events
of
the
past
week
.
To
his
critics
there
was
no
reason
in
his
doings
:
they
believed
the
pestilence
to
be
a
visitation
of
Heaven
,
to
be
stayed
not
by
the
arm
of
flesh
,
but
by
fasting
and
prayer
.
He
had
been
assiduous
in
his
futile
visiting
,
it
was
true
,
and
he
had
buried
the
dead
;
but
he
had
broken
in
on
their
suffering
with
violent
hands
,
and
had
herded
men
and
women
like
brute
beasts
.
Doors
and
windows
,
open
to
the
February
rains
,
attested
his
methods
;
by
his
act
two
cottages
,
once
snug
and
canty
,
were
now
grey
ashes
.
Amos
Ritchie
in
such
matters
was
but
a
tool
;
Mark
Riddel
was
too
much
feared
to
be
the
mark
of
censorious
tongues
;
but
David
,
still
their
titular
minister
,
was
a
predestined
target
.
