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- Джон Бакен
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When
he
came
again
they
did
not
talk
of
his
troubles
,
nor
even
of
Montrose
,
but
of
little
things
-
-
her
childhood
in
France
,
her
kin
,
the
tales
of
the
glen
,
his
own
youth
at
Edinburgh
College
.
For
she
was
not
an
ally
so
much
as
a
refuge
.
When
he
was
with
her
he
was
conscious
that
the
world
was
still
large
and
sunlit
,
the
oppression
lifted
from
his
spirit
,
he
saw
himself
not
only
victor
in
the
quarrel
,
but
a
messenger
of
God
with
a
new
gospel
to
perplexed
mankind
.
One
evening
,
when
he
had
seen
the
girl
descend
through
the
hazels
to
the
Rood
vale
,
and
had
turned
back
towards
the
shoulder
of
the
Hill
of
Deer
,
he
saw
a
man
’
s
figure
slanting
across
the
hill
as
if
coming
from
Melanudrigill
.
It
was
Reiverslaw
,
but
though
their
paths
all
but
intersected
the
farmer
did
not
stop
to
talk
.
He
waved
a
hand
in
greeting
.
"
Ye
suld
gie
a
look
in
at
the
Greenshiel
,
"
he
shouted
.
"
They
tell
me
Richie
Smail
is
in
need
of
consolation
.
"
David
took
the
hint
,
passed
word
to
Richie
,
and
the
next
evening
met
Reiverslaw
in
the
herd
’
s
cottage
.
"
Tak
’
a
look
round
the
faulds
,
Richie
,
"
said
the
master
.
"
Me
and
the
minister
has
something
to
say
to
ither
,
"
and
the
two
were
left
alone
in
the
dim
sheiling
.
"
I
’
ve
been
spyin
’
oot
the
land
,
"
said
Reiverslaw
,
"
like
the
lads
that
Joshua
sent
afore
him
into
Canaan
.
I
canna
say
I
likit
the
job
,
but
I
’
ve
been
through
the
Wud
east
and
west
,
and
I
’
ve
found
the
bit
whaur
the
coven
meets
aside
the
auld
altar
.
I
think
I
could
find
the
road
till
’
t
on
the
blackest
nicht
.
And
I
’
ve
been
speirin
’
judeeciously
in
Woodilee
.
"
"
But
surely
they
did
not
answer
?
"
The
dark
face
of
the
farmer
had
a
crooked
grin
.
"
Trust
me
,
I
was
discreet
.
But
I
’
ve
a
name
for
takin
’
a
stoup
ower
muckle
,
and
when
the
folk
thocht
I
was
fou
,
my
lugs
were
as
gleg
as
a
maukin
’
s
.
They
’
re
preparin
’
for
another
Sabbath
,
and
it
fa
’
s
on
the
Lammas
Eve
.
On
that
nicht
you
and
me
maun
tak
’
the
Wud
.
"
David
shivered
,
and
the
man
saw
it
.
"
The
flesh
is
weak
,
"
he
said
,
"
and
I
’
m
feelin
’
like
that
mysel
’
.
But
you
an
’
me
are
no
the
anes
to
pit
our
hand
to
the
plew
-
stilts
and
turn
back
.
Mr
.
Sempill
,
are
ye
young
enough
to
speel
a
tree
?
"
"
I
was
a
great
climber
as
a
laddie
.
"
