The Little Minister

by J. M. Barrie

  Chapter Thirty-Nine.

  HOW BABBIE SPENT THE NIGHT OF AUGUST FOURTH.

  How had the Egyptian been spirited here from the Spittal? I did notask the question. To interest myself in Babbie at that dire hour ofMargaret's life would have been as impossible to me as to sit down toa book. To others, however, it is only an old woman on whom the parlordoor of the manse has closed, only a garrulous dominie that is in painoutside it. Your eyes are on the young wife.

  When Babbie was plucked off the hill, she thought as little as Gavinthat her captor was Rob Dow. Close as he was to her, he was but ashadow until she screamed the second time, when he pressed her to theground and tied his neckerchief over her mouth. Then, in the momentthat power of utterance was taken from her, she saw the face that hadstartled her at Nanny's window. Half-carried, she was borne forwardrapidly, until some one seemed to rise out of the broom and strikethem both. They had only run against the doctor's trap; and huddlingher into it, Dow jumped up beside her. He tied her hands together witha cord. For a time the horse feared the darkness in front more thanthe lash behind; but when the rains became terrific, it rushed aheadwildly--probably with its eyes shut.

  In three minutes Babbie went through all the degrees of fear. In thefirst she thought Lord Rintoul had kidnapped her; but no sooner hadher captor resolved himself into Dow, drunk with the events of theday and night, than in the earl's hands would have lain safety. Next,Dow was forgotten in the dread of a sudden death which he must share.And lastly, the rain seemed to be driving all other horrors back, thatit might have her for its own. Her perils increased to the unbearableas quickly as an iron in the fire passes through the various stagesbetween warmth and white heat. Then she had to do something; and asshe could not cry out, she flung herself from the dogcart. She fellheavily in Caddam Wood, but the rain would not let her lie therestunned. It beat her back to consciousness, and she sat up on herknees and listened breathlessly, staring in the direction the trap hadtaken, as if her eyes could help her ears.

  All night, I have said, the rain poured, but those charges only rodedown the deluge at intervals, as now and again one wave greater thanthe others stalks over the sea. In the first lull it appeared toBabbie that the storm had swept by, leaving her to Dow. Now she heardthe rubbing of the branches, and felt the torn leaves falling on hergown. She rose to feel her way out of the wood with her bound hands,then sank in terror, for some one had called her name. Next moment shewas up again, for the voice was Gavin's, who was hurrying after her,as he thought, down Windyghoul. He was no farther away than a whispermight have carried on a still night, but she dared not pursue him, foralready Dow was coming back. She could not see him, but she heard thehorse whinny and the rocking of the dogcart. Dow was now at thebrute's head, and probably it tried to bite him, for he struck it,crying:

  "Would you? Stand still till I find her.... I heard her move thisminute."

  Babbie crouched upon a big stone and sat motionless while he gropedfor her. Her breathing might have been tied now, as well as her mouth.She heard him feeling for her, first with his feet and then with hishands, and swearing when his head struck against a tree.

  "I ken you're within hearing," he muttered, "and I'll hae you yet. Ihave a gully-knife in my hand. Listen!"

  He severed a whin-stalk with the knife, and Babbie seemed to see thegleam of the blade.

  "What do I mean by wanting to kill you?" he said, as if she had askedthe question. "Do you no ken wha said to me, 'Kill this woman?' It wasthe Lord. 'I winna kill her,' I said, 'but I'll cart her out o' thecountry.' 'Kill her,' says He; 'why encumbereth she the ground?'"

  He resumed his search, but with new tactics. "I see you now," he wouldcry, and rush forward perhaps within a yard of her. Then she must havescreamed had she had the power. When he tied that neckerchief roundher mouth he prolonged her life.

  Then came the second hurricane of rain, so appalling that had Babbie'shands been free she would have pressed them to her ears. For a fullminute she forgot Dow's presence. A living thing touched her face. Thehorse had found her. She recoiled from it, but its frightened headpressed heavily on her shoulder. She rose and tried to steal away, butthe brute followed, and as the rain suddenly exhausted itself sheheard the dragging of the dogcart. She had to halt.

  Again she heard Dow's voice. Perhaps he had been speaking throughoutthe roar of the rain. If so, it must have made him deaf to his ownwords. He groped for the horse's head, and presently his hand touchedBabbie's dress, then jumped from it, so suddenly had he found her. Nosound escaped him, and she was beginning to think it possible that hehad mistaken her for a bush when his hand went over her face. He wasmaking sure of his discovery.

  "The Lord has delivered you into my hands," he said in a low voice,with some awe in it. Then he pulled her to the ground, and, sittingdown beside her, rocked himself backward and forward, his hands roundhis knees. She would have bartered the world for power to speak tohim.

  "He wouldna hear o' my just carting you to some other countryside," hesaid confidentially. "'The devil would just blaw her back again,' saysHe, 'therefore kill her.' 'And if I kill her,' I says, 'they'll hangme.' 'You can hang yoursel',' says He. 'What wi'?' I speirs. 'Wi' thereins o' the dogcart,' says He. 'They would break,' says I. 'Weel,weel,' says He, 'though they do hang you, nobody'll miss you.' 'That'strue,' says I, 'and You are a just God.'"

  He stood up and confronted her.

  "Prisoner at the bar," he said, "hae ye onything to say why sentenceof death shouldna be pronounced against you? She doesna answer. Shekens death is her deserts."

  By this time he had forgotten probably why his victim was dumb.

  "Prisoner at the bar, hand back to me the soul o' Gavin Dishart. Youwinna? Did the devil, your master, summon you to him and say, 'Eitherthat noble man or me maun leave Thrums?' He did. And did you, or didyou no, drag that minister, when under your spell, to the hill, andthere marry him ower the tongs? You did. Witnesses, Rob Dow and TammasWhamond."

  She was moving from him on her knees, meaning when out of arm's reachto make a dash for life.

  "Sit down," he grumbled, "or how can you expect a fair trial? Prisonerat the bar, you have been found guilty of witchcraft."

  For the first time his voice faltered.

  "That's the difficulty, for witches canna die, except by burning ordrowning. There's no blood in you for my knife, and your neck wouldnatwist. Your master has brocht the rain to put out a' the fires, andwe'll hae to wait till it runs into a pool deep enough to drown you.

  "I wonder at You, God. Do You believe her master'll mak' the pool forher? He'll rather stop his rain. Mr. Dishart said You was mairpowerful than the devil, but it doesna look like it. If You had thepower, how did You no stop this woman working her will on theminister? You kent what she was doing, for You ken a' things. Mr.Dishart says You ken a' things. If You do, the mair shame to You.Would a shepherd, that could help it, let dogs worry his sheep? Killher! It's fine to cry 'Kill her,' but whaur's the bonfire, whaur's thepool? You that made the heaven and the earth and all that in them is,can You no set fire to some wet whins, or change this stane into amill-dam?"

  He struck the stone with his fist, and then gave a cry of exultation.He raised the great slab in his arms and flung it from him. Inthat moment Babbie might have run away, but she fainted. Almostsimultaneously with Dow she knew this was the stone which covered theCaddam well. When she came to, Dow was speaking, and his voice hadbecome solemn.

  "You said your master was mair powerful than mine, and I said it too,and all the time you was sitting here wi' the very pool aneath youthat I have been praying for. Listen!"

  He dropped a stone into the well, and she heard it strike the water.

  "What are you shaking at?" he said in reproof. "Was it no yoursel'that chose the spot? Lassie, say your prayers. Are you saying them?"

  He put his hand over her face, to feel if her lips were moving, andtore off the neckerchief.

  And then again the rain came between them. In that rain one could
notthink. Babbie did not know that she had bitten through the string thattied her hands. She planned no escape. But she flung herself at theplace where Dow had been standing. He was no longer there, and shefell heavily, and was on her feet again in an instant and runningrecklessly. Trees intercepted her, and she thought they were Dow, andwrestled with them. By and by she fell into Windyghoul, and there shecrouched until all her senses were restored to her, when sheremembered that she had been married lately.

  How long Dow was in discovering that she had escaped, and whether hesearched for her, no one knows. After a time he jumped into thedogcart again, and drove aimlessly through the rain. That wild journeyprobably lasted two hours, and came to an abrupt end only when a treefell upon the trap. The horse galloped off, but one of Dow's legs wasbeneath the tree, and there he had to lie helpless, for though the legwas little injured, he could not extricate himself. A night and daypassed, and he believed that he must die; but even in this plight hedid not forget the man he loved. He found a piece of slate, and in thedarkness cut these words on it with his knife:

  "Me being about to die, I solemnly swear I didna see the minister marrying an Egyptian on the hill this nicht. May I burn in Hell if this is no true.

  (Signed) "ROB DOW."

  This document he put in his pocket, and so preserved proof of what hewas perjuring himself to deny.