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.