black rock-第27章

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eyes；　and　I　was　speaking　for　her　again。　　I　told　them　of　Craig　and
his　fight　for　these　men's　lives。　　I　told　them；　too；　of　how　I　had
been　too　indolent　to　begin。　　'But；'　I　said；　'I　am　going　this　far
from　to…night；'　and　I　swept　the　bottles　into　the　champagne　tub。

'I　say；'　said　Polly　Lindsay；　coming　up　in　his　old　style；　slow　but
sure；　'let's　all　go　in；　say　for　five　years。'　　And　so　we　did。　　We
didn't　sign　anything；　but　every　man　shook　hands　with　Graeme。

And　as　I　told　Craig　about　this　a　year　later；　when　he　was　on　his　way
back　from　his　Old　Land　trip　to　join　Graeme　in　the　mountains；　he
threw　up　his　head　in　the　old　way　and　said；　'It　was　well　done。　　It
must　have　been　worth　seeing。　　Old　man　Nelson's　work　is　not　done
yet。　　Tell　me　again；'　and　he　made　me　go　over　the　whole　scene　with
all　the　details　put　in。

But　when　I　told　Mrs。　Mavor；　after　two　years　had　gone；　she　only
said；　'Old　things　are　passed　away；　all　things　are　become　new'；　but
the　light　glowed　in　her　eyes　till　I　could　not　see　their　colour。
But　all　that；　too；　is　another　story。


CHAPTER　XV

COMING　TO　THEIR　OWN


A　man　with　a　conscience　is　often　provoking；　sometimes　impossible。
Persuasion　is　lost　upon　him。　　He　will　not　get　angry；　and　he　looks
at　one　with　such　a　far…away　expression　in　his　face　that　in　striving
to　persuade　him　one　feels　earthly　and　even　fiendish。　　At　least　this
was　my　experience　with　Craig。　　He　spent　a　week　with　me　just　before
he　sailed　for　the　Old　Land；　for　the　purpose；　as　he　said；　of　getting
some　of　the　coal　dust　and　other　grime　out　of　him。

He　made　me　angry　the　last　night　of　his　stay；　and　all　the　more　that
he　remained　quite　sweetly　unmoved。　　It　was　a　strategic　mistake　of
mine　to　tell　him　how　Nelson　came　home　to　us；　and　how　Graeme　stood
up　before　the　'Varsity　chaps　at　my　supper　and　made　his　confession
and　confused　Rattray's　easy…stepping　profanity；　and　started　his　own
five…year　league。　　For　all　this　stirred　in　Craig　the　hero；　and　he
was　ready　for　all　sorts　of　heroic　nonsense；　as　I　called　it。　　We
talked　of　everything　but　the　one　thing；　and　about　that　we　said　not
a　word　till；　bending　low　to　poke　my　fire　and　to　hide　my　face；　I
plunged

'You　will　see　her；　of　course？'

He　made　no　pretence　of　not　understanding　but　answered

'Of　course。'

'There's　really　no　sense　in　her　staying　over　there；'　I　suggested。

'And　yet　she　is　a　wise　woman；'　he　said；　as　if　carefully　considering
the　question。

'Heaps　of　landlords　never　see　their　tenants；　and　they　are　none　the
worse。'

'The　landlords？'

'No；　the　tenants。'

'Probably；　having　such　landlords。'

'And　as　for　the　old　lady；　there　must　be　some　one　in　the　connection
to　whom　it　would　be　a　Godsend　to　care　for　her。'

'Now；　Connor；'　he　said　quietly；　'don't。　　We　have　gone　over　all
there　is　to　be　said。　　Nothing　new　has　come。　　Don't　turn　it　all　up
again。'

Then　I　played　the　heathen　and　raged；　as　Graeme　would　have　said；
till　Craig　smiled　a　little　wearily　and　said

'You　exhaust　yourself；　old　chap。　　Have　a　pipe；　do'；　and　after　a
pause　he　added　in　his　own　way；　'What　would　you　have？　　The　path
lies　straight　from　my　feet。　　Should　I　quit　it？　　I　could　not　so
disappoint　youand　all　of　them。'

And　I　knew　he　was　thinking　of　Graeme　and　the　lads　in　the　mountains
he　had　taught　to　be　true　men。　　It　did　not　help　my　rage；　but　it
checked　my　speech；　so　I　smoked　in　silence　till　he　was　moved　to　say

'And　after　all；　you　know；　old　chap；　there　are　great　compensations
for　all　losses；　but　for　the　loss　of　a　good　conscience　towards　God；
what　can　make　up？'

But；　all　the　same；　I　hoped　for　some　better　result　from　his　visit　to
Britain。　　It　seemed　to　me　that　something　must　turn　up　to　change
such　an　unbearable　situation。

The　year　passed；　however；　and　when　I　looked　into　Craig's　face　again
I　knew　that　nothing　had　been　changed；　and　that　he　had　come　back　to
take　up　again　his　life　alone；　more　resolutely　hopeful　than　ever。

But　the　year　had　left　its　mark　upon　him　too。　　He　was　a　broader　and
deeper　man。　　He　had　been　living　and　thinking　with　men　of　larger
ideas　and　richer　culture；　and　he　was　far　too　quick　in　sympathy　with
life　to　remain　untouched　by　his　surroundings。　　He　was　more　tolerant
of　opinions　other　than　his　own；　but　more　unrelenting　in　his
fidelity　to　conscience　and　more　impatient　of　half…heartedness　and
self…indulgence。　　He　was　full　of　reverence　for　the　great　scholars
and　the　great　leaders　of　men　he　had　come　to　know。

'Great；　noble　fellows　they　are；　and　extraordinarily　modest；'　he
said'that　is；　the　really　great　are　modest。　　There　are　plenty　of
the　other　sort；　neither　great　nor　modest。　　And　the　books　to　be
read！　　I　am　quite　hopeless　about　my　reading。　　It　gave　me　a　queer
sensation　to　shake　hands　with　a　man　who　had　written　a　great　book。
To　hear　him　make　commonplace　remarks；　to　witness　a　faltering　in
knowledgeone　expects　these　men　to　know　everythingand　to
experience　respectful　kindness　at　his　hands！'

'What　of　the　younger　men？'　I　asked。

'Bright；　keen；　generous　fellows。　　In　things　theoretical；　omniscient；
but　in　things　practical；　quite　helpless。　　They　toss　about　great
ideas　as　the　miners　lumps　of　coal。　　They　can　call　them　by　their　book
names　easily　enough；　but　I　often　wondered　whether　they　could　put
them　into　English。　　Some　of　them　I　coveted　for　the　mountains。　　Men
with　clear　heads　and　big　hearts；　and　built　after　Sandy　M'Naughton's
model。　　It　does　seem　a　sinful　waste　of　God's　good　human　stuff　to　see
these　fellows　potter　away　their　lives　among　theories　living　and
dead；　and　end　up　by　producing　a　book！　　They　are　all　either　making　or
going　to　make　a　book。　　A　good　thing　we　haven't　to　read　them。　　But
here　and　there　among　them　is　some　quiet　chap　who　will　make　a　book
that　men　will　tumble　over　each　other　to　read。'

Then　we　paused　and　looked　at　each　other。

'Well？'　I　said。　　He　understood　me。

'Yes！'　he　answered　slowly；　'doing　great　work。　　Every　one　worships
her　just　as　we　do；　and　she　is　making　them　all　do　something　worth
while；　as　she　used　to　make　us。'

He　spoke　cheerfully　and　readily　as　if　he　were　repeating　a　lesson
well　learned；　but　he　could　not　humbug　me。　　I　felt　the　heartache　in
the　cheerful　tone。

'Tell　me　about　her；'　I　said；　for　I　knew　that　if　he　would　talk　it
would　do　him　good。　　And　talk　he　did；　often　forgetting　me；　till；　as
I　listened；　I　found　myself　looking　again　into　the　fathomless　eyes；
and　hearing　again　the　heart…searching　voice。　　I　saw　her　go　in　and
out　of　the　little　red…tiled　cottages　and　down　the　narrow　back　lanes
of　the　village；　I　heard　her　voice　in　a　sweet；　low　song　by　the　bed
of　a　dying　child；　or　pouring　forth　floods　of　music　in　the　great　new
hall　of　the　factory　town　near　by。　　But　I　could　not　see；　though　he
tried　to　show　me；　the　stately　gracious　lady　receiving　the　country
folk　in　her　home。　　He　did　not　linger　over　that　scene；　but　went　back
again　to　the　gate…cottage　where　she　had　taken　him　one　day　to　see
Billy　Breen's　mother。

'I　found　the　old　woman　knew　all　about　me；'　he　said；　simply　enough；
'but　there　were　many　things　about　Billy　she　had　never　heard；　and　I
was　glad　to　put　her　right　on　some　points；　though　Mrs。　Mavor　would
not　hear　it。'

He　sat　silent　for　a　little；　looking　into　the　coals；　then　went　on　in
a　soft；　quiet　voice

'It　brought　back　the　mountains　and　the　old　days　to　hear　again
Billy's　tones　in　his　mother's　voice；　and　to　see　her　sitting　there
in　the　very　dress　she　wore　the　night　of　the　League；　you　remember
some　soft　stuff　with　black　lace　about　itand　to　hear　her　sing　as
she　did　for　Billyah！　ah！'　　His　voice　unexpectedly　broke；　but　in　a
moment　he　was　master　of　himself　and　begged　me　to　forgive　his
weakness。　　I　am　afraid　I　said　words　that　should　not　be　saida
thing　I　never　do；　except　when　suddenly　and　utterly　upset。

'I　am　getting　selfish　and　weak；'　he　said；　'I　must　get　to　work。　　I
am　glad　to　get　to　work。　　There　is　much　to　do；　and　it　is　worth
while；　if　only　to　keep　one　from　getting　useless　and　lazy。'

'Useless　and　lazy！'　I　said　to　myself；　thinking　of　my　life　beside
his；　and　trying　to　get　command　of　my　voice；　so　as　not　to　make　quite
a　fool　of　myself。　　And　for　many　a　day　those　words　goaded　me　to　work
and　to　the　exercise　of　some　mild　self…denial。　　But　more　than　all
else；　after　Craig　had　gone　back　to　the　mountains；　Graeme's　letters
from　the　railway　construction　camp　stirred　one　to　do　unpleasant
duty　long　postponed；　and　rendered　uncomfortable　my　hours　of　most
luxurious　ease。　　Many　of　the　old　gang　were　with　him；　both　of
lumbermen　and　miners；　and　Craig　was　their　minister。　　And　the
letters　told　of　how　he　laboured　by　day　and　by　night　along　the　line
of　construction；　carrying　his　tent　and　kit　with　him；　preaching
straight　sermons；　watching　by　sick　men；　writing　their　letters；　and
winning　their　hearts；　making　strong　their　lives；　and　helping　them
to　die　well　when　their　hour　came。　　One　day；　these　letters　proved
too　much　for　me；　and　I　packed　away　my　paints　and　brushes；　and　made
my　vow　unto　the　Lord　that　I　would　be　'useless　and　lazy'　no　longer；
but　would　do　something　with　myself。　　In　consequence；　I　found　myself
within　three　weeks　walking　the　London　hospitals；　finishing　my
course；　that　I　might　join　that　band　of　men　who　were　doing　something
with　life；　or；　if　throwing　it　away；　were　not　losing　it　for　nothing。
I　had　finished　being　a　fool；　I　hoped；　at　least　a　fool　of　the
useless　and　luxurious　kind。　　The　letter　that　came　from　Graeme；　in
reply　to　my　request　for　a　position　on　his　staff；　was　characteristic
of　the　man；　both　new　and　old；　full　of　gayest　humour　and　of　most
earnest　welcome　to　the　work。

Mrs。　Mavor's　reply　was　like　herself

'I　knew　you　would　not　long　be　content　with　the　making　of　pictures；
which　the　world　does　not　really　need；　and　would　join　your　friends
in　the　dear　West；　making　lives　that　the　world　needs　so　sorely。'

But　her　last　words　touched　me　strangely

'But　be　sure　to　be　thankful　every　day　for　your　privilege。　。　。　。　　It
will　be　good　to　think　of　you　all；　with　the　glorious　mountains　about
you；　and　Christ's　own　work　in　your　hands。　。　。　。　　Ah！　how　we　would
like　to　choose　our　work；　and　the　place　in　which　to　do　it！'

The　longing　did　not　appear　in　the　words；　but　I　needed　no　words　to
tell　me　how　deep　and　how　constant　it　was。　　And　I　take　some　credit
to　myself；　that　in　my　reply　I　gave　her　no　bidding　to　join　our　band；
but　rather　praised　the　work　she　was　doing　in　her　place；　telling　her
how　I　had　heard　of　it　from　Craig。

The　summer　found　me　religiously　doing　Paris　and　Vienna；　gaining　a
more　perfect　acquaintance　with　the　extent　and　variety　of　my　own
ignorance；　and　so　fully　occupied　in　this　interesting　and　wholesome
occupation　that　I　fell　out　with　all　my　correspondents；　with　the
result　of　weeks　of　silence　between　us。

Two　letters　among　the　heap　waiting　on　my　table　in　London　made　my
heart　beat　quick；　but　with　how　different　feelings：　one　from　Graeme
telling　me　that　Craig　had　been　very　ill；　and　that　he　was　to　take
him　home　as　soon　as　he　could　be　moved。　　Mrs。　Mavor's　letter　told　me
of　the　death　of　the　old　lady；　who　had　been　her　care　for　the　past
two　years；　and　of　her　intention　to　spend　some　months　in　her　old
home　in　Edinburgh。　　And　this　letter　it　is　that　accounts　for　my
presence　in　a　miserable；　dingy；　dirty　little　hall　running　off　a
close　in　the　historic　Cowgate；　redolent　of　the　glories　of　the
sple