CHAPTER XXXIX
KIRSTY GIVES ADVICE
It was again midsummer, and just a year since they parted on the Horn,
when Francis appeared at Corbyknowe, and found Kirsty in the kitchen.
She received him as if nothing had ever come between them, but at once
noting he was in trouble, proposed they should go out together. It was
a long way to be silent, but they had reached the spot, whence they
started for the race recorded in my first chapter, ere either of them
said a word.
'Will ye no sit, Kirsty?' said Francis at length.
For answer she dropped on the same stone where she was sitting when she
challenged him to it, and Francis took his seat on its neighbour.
'I hae had a some sair time o' 't sin' I shawed ye plain hoo little I
was worth yer notice, Kirsty!' he began.
'Ay,' returned Kirsty, 'but ilka hoor o' 't hes shawn what the rael
Francie was!'
'I kenna, Kirsty. A' I can say is--'at I dinna think nearhan sae muckle
o' mysel as I did than.'
'And I think a heap mair o' ye,' answered Kirsty. 'I canna but think ye
upo' the richt ro'd noo, Francie!'
'I houp I am, but I'm aye fin'in' oot something 'at 'ill never du.'
'And ye'll keep fin'in' oot that sae lang 's there 's onything left but
what 's like himsel.'
'I un'erstan ye, Kirsty. But I cam to ye the day, no to say onything
aboot mysel, but jist 'cause I cudna du wantin yer help. I wudna hae
presumed but that I thoucht, although I dinna deserve 't, for auld
kin'ness ye wud say what ye wud advise.'
'I'll du that, Francie--no for auld kin'ness, but for kin'ness never
auld. What's wrang wi' ye?'
'Kirsty, wuman, she's brocken oot again!'
'I dinna won'er. I hae h'ard o' sic things.'
'It's jist taen the pith oot o' me! What _am_ I to du?'
'Ye canna du better nor weel; jist begin again.'
'I had coft her a bonny cairriage, wi' as fine a pair as ever ye saw,
Kirsty, as I daursay yer father has telled ye. And they warna lost upon
her, for she had aye a gleg ee for a horse. Ye min' yon powny?--And up
til yesterday, a' gaed weel, till I was thinkin I cud trust her
onygait. But i' the efternune, as she was oot for an airin, are o' the
horses cuist a shue, and thinkin naething o' the risk til a human sowl,
but only o' the risk til the puir horse, the fule fallow stoppit at a
smithy nae farrer nor the neist door frae a public, and tuik the horse
intil the smithy, lea'in the smith's lad at the held o' the ither
horse. Sae what suld my leddy but oot upo' the side _frae_ the smithy,
and awa roon the back o' the cairriage to the public, and in! Whether
she took onything there I dinna ken, but she maun hae broucht a bottle
hame wi her, for this mornin she was fou--fou as e'er ye saw man in
market!'
He broke down, and wept like a child.
'And what did ye du?' asked Kirsty.
'I said naething. I jist gaed to the coachman and gart him put his
horses tu, and tak his denner wi' him, and m'unt the box, and drive
straucht awa til Aberdeen, and lea' the carriage whaur I boucht it, and
du siclike wi' the horses, and come hame by the co'ch.'
As he ended the sad tale, he glanced up at Kirsty, and saw her
regarding him with a look such as he had never seen, imagined, or
dreamed of before. It lasted but a moment; her eyes dropt, and she went
on with the knitting which, as in the old days, she had brought with
her.
'Noo, Kirsty, what am I to du neist?' he said.
'Hae ye naething i' yer ain min'?' she asked.
'Naething.'
'Weel, we'll awa hame!' she returned, rising. 'Maybe, as we gang, we'll
get licht!'
They walked in silence. Now and then Francis would look up in Kirsty's
face, to see if anything was coming, but saw only that she was sunk in
thought: he would not hurry her, and said not a word. He knew she would
speak the moment she had what she thought worth saying.
Kirsty, recalling what her father had repeatedly said of Mrs. Gordon's
management of a horse in her young days, had fallen awondering how one
who so well understood the equine nature, could be so incapable of
understanding the human; for certainly she had little known either
Archibald Gordon or David Barclay, and quite as little her own son.
Having come to the conclusion that the incapacity was caused by
overpowering affection for the one human creature she ought not to
love, Kirsty found her thoughts return to the sole faculty her father
yielded Mrs. Gordon--that of riding a horse as he ought to be ridden.
Thereupon came to her mind a conclusion she had lately read somewhere--
namely, that a man ought to regard his neighbour as specially
characterized by the possession of this or that virtue or capacity,
whatever it might be, that distinguished him; for that was as the
door-plate indicating the proper entrance to his inner house. A moment
more and Kirsty thought she saw a way in which Francis might gain a
firmer hold on his mother, as well as provide her with a pleasure that
might work toward her redemption.
Francie,' she said, 'I hae thoucht o' something. My father has aye
said, and ye ken he kens, 'at yer mother was a by ordinar guid rider in
her young days, and this is what I wud hae ye du: gang straucht awa,
whaurever ye think best, and buy for her the best luikin, best
tempered, handiest, and easiest gaein leddy's-horse ye can lay yer
ban's upo'. Ye hae a gey fair beast o' yer ain, my father says, and ye
maun jist ride wi' her whaurever she gangs.'
'I'll du 't, Kirsty. I canna gang straucht awa, I doobt, though; I fear
she has whusky left, and there's no sayin what she micht du afore I wan
back. I maun gang hame first.'
'I'm no clear upo' that. Ye canna weel gang and rype (_search_) a' the
kists and aumries i' the hoose she ca's her ain! That wud anger her
terrible. Nor can ye weel lay ban's upon her, and tak frae her by
force. A wuman micht du that, but a man, and special a wuman's ain ae
son, canna weel du 't--that is, gien there's ony ither coorse 'at can
be followt. It seems to me ye maun tak the risk o' her bottle. And it
may be no ill thing 'at she sud disgrace hersel oot and oot. Onygait
wi' bein awa, and comin back wi' the horse i' yer ban' ye'll come afore
her like bringin wi' ye a fresh beginnin, a new order o' things like,
and that w'y av'ide words wi' her, and words maun aye be av'idit.'
Francis remained in thoughtful silence.
'I hae little fear,' pursued Kirsty, 'but we'll get her frae the drink
a'thegither, and the houp is we may get something better putten intil
her. Bein fou whiles, isna the main difficulty. But I beg yer pardon,
Francie! I maunna forget 'at she's your mother!'
'Gien ye wud but tak her and me thegither, Kirsty, it wud be a gran'
thing for baith o' 's! Wi' you to tak the half o' 't, I micht stan' up
un'er the weicht o' my responsibility!'
'I'm takin my share o' that, onygait, daurin to advise ye,
Francie!--Noo gang, laddie; gang straucht awa and buy the horse.'
'I maun rin hame first, to put siller i' my pooch! I s' hand oot o' her
gait.'
'Gang til my faither for't. I haena a penny, but he has aye plenty!'
'I maun hae my horse; there's nae co'ch till the morn's mornin.'
'Gangna near the place. My father 'ill gie ye the gray mear--no an ill
are ava! She'll tak ye there in four or five hoors, as _ye_ ride. Only,
min' and gie her a pickle corn ance, and meal and watter twise upo' the
ro'd. Gien ye seena the animal yere sure 'ill please her, gang further,
and comena hame wantin 't.'
