The Dew of Their Youth by Samuel Rutherford Crockett (ebook offline .txt) 📕

I tell her. 'Twas the night of the big meeting at the Tabernacle, when Israel kept it up for six hours, one lot coming and another going--the Isle o' Man fleet being in--that was the night of all nights in the year that Dick Wilkes must choose for to die in. Aught more contrary than that man can't be thought of.
"It happened just so, as I say. About four o'clock we were all of us shut up in the kitchen, and by that we knew (Jerry and I, at least) that Dick Wilkes had company--also that so far as repentance went, old Israel's goose was cooked till he had another turn at his man. And then after six we heard him shouting that he was going to die--which seemed strange to us. For we could hear him tearing at his sea-chest and stamping about his room, which is not what is expected of a dying man.
"But Dick knew better. For when we went down and peeped at the keyhole, he heard us, and called on us all to come our ways in. And--you will never guess in a thousand years--he had routed a flag out of his sea-chest. The 'Wicked Flag' it was,--the pirates' flag--black, with the Death's Head and cross-bones done in white upon it, the same that he had hoisted on seas where no questions were asked, when he commanded the old _Golden Hind_. And wrapping himself in that, he said, 'Tell old Israel that I died _so_!' And we, thinking it was, as one might say, braving the Almighty and his poor old servant, kept silence. And then he shouted, 'Promise, ye white-livered rascals, or I've strength to slit your wizzards yet. Tell him I died under the Black!'
"And Bridget, who was feared herself, said, 'Whist, for God's sake, do not bring a curse on the house!'
"And then he just cursed the house from flooring to roof-tree, and so went to his own place!
"Dead? Well, yes--dead and buried is old Dickie Wilkes. But poor Israel Kinmont is quite brokenhearted. He says that Dick was the first that ever broke away, and that he is not long for this world himself now that he has lost Dick. It was always cut-and-come-again when you were converting Dick.
"But Israel has an explanation, poor old fellow.
"'It was not Grace that missed fire,' he says, 'but me, the unworthy marksman. And for that I shall be smitten like the men who, with unanointed eyes, looked on the ark of God that time it went up the valley from Ekron to Bethshemish, with the cows looking back and lowing for their calves all the way. I were always main sorry for them cows!' old Israel says."
[Footnote 2: Harvest home merrymakings.]


CHAPTER XL
THE GREAT "TABERNACLE" REVIVAL
Though Boyd Connoway had not said anything directly threatening the house of Heathknowes or its inmates, his story of his own "conversion" and the death of Dick Wilkes under the Black Flag somehow made us vaguely uneasy. The door of the house was locked at eight. The gates of the yard barricaded as in the old time of the sea raids from the _Golden Hind_.
So strong was the feeling that Irma would gladly have returned before our time to the little White House above the meadow flats, and to the view of the Pentlands turning a solid green butt towards the Archers' Hall of the Guid Toon of Edinburgh.
But it was not so easy to quit Heathknowes. My grandmother held tightly to Duncan the Second. I found myself in good case, after the fatigues of the town, to carry out some work on my own account. This, of course, for the sake of my wife's happiness, I would have given up, but after all Irma's plans went to pieces upon the invincible determination of Sir Louis to remain. He was now a lad of seventeen, but older looking than his age. He had his own room at Heathknowes, his books, his occupations. Indeed we seldom saw him except at meals, and even then often in the middle of dinner he would rise, bow haughtily to the company, and retire without uttering a word. He had learned the lesson from Lalor that plain farm people were no society for such as he. He went as far as he could in the way of insolence, making us pay for the refusal of the lawyers to let him go to London with the member for the county.
I could see the blush rise crimson to Irma's neck and face after such a performance. But by some mysterious divine law of compensation, no sooner had she Baby in her arms, than she forgot all about the sulky boy, sitting moping among his books in the wood parlour, looking out on the red-boled firs of Marnhoul forest.
Israel Kinmont used to frequent us a good deal about this time. He never preached to us, nor indeed would he talk freely of his "experiences" amongst such Calvinists as my grandfather and grandmother.
"The gold of the kingdom doth not need the refiner's art!" he had said once when this remissness was made a reproach to him. Since the loss of his boat, the _Tabernacle_, he had bought first one donkey and then two with his little savings. These he loaded with salt for Cairn Edward and the farms on the way, and so by a natural transition, took to the trade of itinerant voyager on land instead of on the sea, bringing back a store of such cloths and spices as were in most request among the goodwives of the farm-towns.
He had been so long a sailor man that he could not help it, if a certain flavour of the brine clung to him still. Besides, there were jerseys and great sea-boots to be worn out. Neddy and Teddy, his two fine donkeys, were soon fitted with "steering gear," among the intricacies of which their active heels often got "foul." They "ran aground" with alarming frequency, scraping their pack-saddles against the walls of narrow lanes. Their master knew no peace of mind till, having passed the narrows, he found on some moor or common "plenty o' sea-room," notwithstanding the danger that "plenty o' sea-room" might induce the too artful Teddy to "turn topsails under," or in other words indulge in a roll upon the grass.
Finally, Neddy and Teddy were "brought to anchor" in some friendly stable, in none oftener than in ours of Heathknowes, where cargo was unloaded and sometimes even the ships themselves "docked" and laid up for repairs. For this merciful Israel was merciful to his beasts, and often went into repairing dock for a saddle gall, which another would never have even noticed.
When the pair were browsing free in the field he would call them "to receive cargo," and hoist the Blue Peter by a sounding, "Neddy, ahoy! Ahoy there, Teddy!" And if, as was likely, they only flourished their heels and refused with scorn to come and be saddled, he uttered his sternest summons, "Ship's company, all hands on deck!" which meant that his son Jacob--starboard watch, must come and help port watch--Israel himself, to capture Teddy and Neddy.
Neddy was generally willing enough, unless when led from the plain course of maritime duty by Teddy. On these occasions Israel used to quote from the "articles" relating to the Mutiny Act, and has even been known to go so far as threaten Teddy with "a round dozen" at the main-mast as soon as he could lay hands on a "rope's end."
The which was all the same to Teddy.
It was beautiful to see the flotilla navigating the level surface of Killantringan moor--level, that is, by comparison. For first there were the little waves of the sheep-tracks, then the gentle rollers of the moss-hags, and, last of all, certain black dangerous Maelstroms from which last year's peats had been dug, in which a moment's folly on the part of Neddy or Teddy might engulf the Armada for ever.
As they set sail Jacob Kinmont was first and second mate, but in particular, look-out-man. He went ahead, keeping a wary eye for dangers and obstacles, and on the whole the donkeys followed docilely enough in his wake. Israel's post as captain was behind at the tiller-ropes, whence he shouted exact instructions with nautical exactitude, such as "A point to the west, Neddy!" Or, pathetically, "DID I say nor'-nor'-east, Teddy, or didn't I?"
This last had a ring of affection in it, for, in spite of his naughty habits (or because of them) Teddy was distinctly the favourite. Also he had a habit of nuzzling his moist nose into the breast of the old man's reefer coat in search of sweet things, a trick which the more patient and reliable Neddy never acquired. And if Teddy forgot to come inquiring after the hidden sweets, Israel was quite heart-broken.
At first the boys from the village would follow and perhaps imitate these naval manoeuvres--in the hope, never fulfilled, of catching "Ranter Israel" using some nautical language, such as old Pirate Wilkes had made but too familiar to their ears. But they never caught him, for Israel's "yea" remained "yea" and his "nay" "nay," even when navigating donkeys over the trackless waste of Killantringan Common. But in revenge, every now and then, Israel would get hold of a village lad and lead him triumphantly to his meeting, whence he would not come forth till, as like as not, "he had gotten the blessin'."
The fathers of Eden Valley held in utter contempt the theology of "Old Tabernacle Israel," but the mothers, seeing a troublesome boy forsaking the error of his ways and settling down to be the comfort of his folk--looked more to results, and thanked God for old Israel and his Tabernacle. After a while the fathers also came to be of his opinion. And on one memorable occasion, the great Doctor Gillespie himself went in by the door of Israel's tar-smelling Tabernacle, and seated himself in all the glory of his black coat and ruffled shirt on the back seat among the riff-raff of the port, just as if he were nobody at all.
At first Israel did not see him, so quietly had he entered. He went on with his prayer that "sinners might be turned from their way, and saints confirmed in their most holy faith."
But when he had opened his eyes, and beheld the white head and reverend countenance of Doctor Gillespie the human soul within him trembled a little. Nevertheless, commanding himself, he descended the narrow aisle till he came to where the minister was seated. Then with head humbly bent and a voice that shook, he begged that "the Doctor might to-day open up the Word of Life to them." Which accordingly, with the simplest directness, the Doctor did, using as his pulpit the middle section of a longboat, which had been sawn across and floored for Israel. The Doctor told the story of Peter walking on the waters, and of the hand stretched out to save. And this the Doctor, as Israel said afterwards, "fastened into them with nails."
"Some of you will believe anything except the Gospel," was one of these. Yet all he said was the simplest evangel. The Doctor was a Justice of the Peace, but this time he spoke of another peace--that of believing. He had an audience of smugglers, but he never mentioned Caesar. He only advised them to "Render unto God the things that are God's."
And when he finished, after the last solemn words of exhortation, he added very quietly, "I will again preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the Parish Kirk, next Sabbath at noonday."
And so when the Sabbath came and in the Tabernacle those of Israel's sowing and gleaning were gathered together, the old Ranter addressed them thus: