"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?'"