A Daughter of Fife

He kept the boat waiting two days in Pittenloch, but on the morning of the

third sorrowfully turned his back upon the place of his disappointment. He

felt that he could see no one, nor yet take any further step until he had

spoken with David Promoter; and late the same night he was in the

Candleriggs Street of Glasgow. He was so weary and faint that David's

sonorous, strong, "come in," startled him. The two men looked steadily at

each other a moment, a look on both sides full of suspicion and inquiry.

Allan was the first to speak. He had taken in at a glance the tall sombre

grandeur of David's appearance, his spiritual look, the clear truthfulness

of his piercing eyes, and without reasoning he walked forward and said,

somewhat sadly, "Well, David?"

"I do not know if it is well or ill, Mr. Campbell, and I will not shake

hands on uncertain grounds, sir. Ken you where my sister is?"

"How can you wrong me so, David Promoter? But that would be a small wrong

in comparison--how can you shame Maggie by such a question of me? Since

we parted in Pittenloch I have neither seen nor heard from her. Oh,

Maggie! Maggie!"

He could control himself no longer. As he paced the small room, the tears

stood in his eyes, and he locked and unlocked his hands in a passionate

effort to relieve his emotion. David looked at him with a stern curiosity.

"You are mair than needfully anxious, sir. Do you think Maggie Promoter

has no brother? What is Maggie to you?"

"Everything! Everything! Life is hopeless, worthless, without Maggie. She

is my promised wife. I would give every shilling I have in the world

rather than lose her. I would throw the whole of my world behind me, and

go into the fishing boats for her. I love her, sir, as you never can love

any woman. Do you think I would have given Maggie a heartache, or let

Maggie slip beyond my ken, for all the honor and glory in the world, or

for a pulpit as high as the Tower of Babel?"

"Dinna confound things, Mr. Campbell. Maggie, and the pulpit, and the

Tower o' Babel are a' different. If you love Maggie sae blindly as a'

that, whatna for did you leave her then? Why didn't you speak to me anent

the matter? Let me tell you, that was your plain duty, and you are noo

supping the broo you hae brewed for yoursel'."

David was under powerful emotion, and culture disappeared; "he had got to

his Scotch;" for though a man may speak many languages, he has only one

mother tongue; and when the heart throbs, and glows, and burns, he goes

back to it. "Why didna you speak wi' me?" he asked again, as he let his

hand fall upon the table to emphasize the inquiry.