A Daughter of Fife - Page 12/138

"Ay; I'm hungry, Maggie; and he'll maybe like one too."

So the pan was hung over the fire, and the plates and bowls set; and while

Maggie scattered in the meal, and went for the milk, Davie tried to

Collect his thoughts, and get from under the spell of the Magician of his

age. And though poetry and porridge seem far enough apart Campbell said a

hearty "thank you" to the offer of a plate full. He wanted the food, and

it was also a delight to watch Maggie spread his cloth, and bring in the

hot savory dish of meal, and the bowl of milk. For her soul was still in

her beautiful face, her eyes limpid and bright as stars, and the simple

meal so served reminded him of the plain dignified feasts of the old rural

deities. He told himself as he watched her, that he was living a fairer

idyl than ever poet dreamed.

"Gude night, sir," she said softly, after she had served the food, "you

took me into a new life the night, and thank you kindly, sir."

"It was a joy to me, Maggie. Good night."

She was a little afraid to speak to David; afraid of saying more than he

would approve, and afraid of saying anything that would clash with the

subject of his meditations. But she could not help noticing his

restlessness and his silence; and she was wondering to herself, "why

men-folk would be sae trying and contrary," when she heard him say-"Grand words, and grand folk, Maggie; but there are far grander than thae

be."

"Than kings, and queens, and braw knights and fair leddies?" "Ay, what are

thae to angels and archangels, powers and dominions, purity, faith, hope,

charity? Naething at a'."

"Maybe; but I wish I could see them, and I wish I could see the man who

wrote anent them, and I wish you could write a book like it, Davie."

"Me! I have an ambition beyond the like o' that. To be His messenger and

speak the words o' truth and salvation to the people! Oh Maggie, if I

could win at that office, I wouldna envy king nor knight, no, nor the poet

himsel'."

"Did you see the minister?"

"Ay; bring your chair near me, and I'll tell you what he said. You'll be

to hear it, and as weel now, as again."

"Surely he had the kind word to-day, and you that fu' o' sorrow?"

"He meant to be kind. Surely he meant to be kind. He sent me word to come

up to his study, and wee Mysie Balmuto took me there. Eh, Maggie, if I had

a room like that! It was fu' o' books; books frae the floor to the

roof-place. He was standing on the hearth wi' his back to the fire, and

you ken hoo he looks at folk, through and through. 'Weel, Davie,' he said,

'what's brought you o'er the hills through wind and rain pour? Had you

work that must be pushed in spite o' His work?'"