and it had a clan battle of sorts to its credit or discredit.
A few grey-beards from outlying crofts wandered down to warm themselves at the fires of life that had come to Dunster. Had they accepted all the hospitality offered them by open-handed seamen they would never have managed home on their own feet. As it was, two of them experienced slight, but not unpleasant, difficulty in following the uneven paths.
“We are living in strange times,” said Donald.
“Strange times, indeed. What with Boney off to St. Helena besides,” replied Lachie.
“The world is growing young.”
“And we are growing old, sorrow take it.”
“When I looked on that young fellow and thought to myself that in one night he had made more money than we will make off a croft in a twelve-month—it was hard tobelieve. There must be a terrible lot of money in all the world.”
“Think of Wick and Fraserburgh and Helmsdale and all the other places on the Moray Firth—it beats me where the money can come from.”
“It’s enough almost to frighten a man. Do you think it can last?”
“I have a misgiving myself. It seems hardly right.”
“Even my feet are astonished,” said Donald.
“Let us take it easy,” said Lachie, whose own feet were a trifle wayward.
The two old men sat down and looked back towards the inn and caught a distant glimpse of the high sea. They spoke of the harshness of landlords and of the ills that had befallen their folk. They recalled pleasant days of their distant youth. Perhaps happiness would come to the folk again and more money than ever they had known. For the sea was free to all. They looked upon it, bright still in the darkling night.
“Do you know, man, Lachie, when I saw that lad Roddie, tall and fair, with his blue eyes and his quiet ways, I had the sort of feeling that he had come himself up out of the sea like—like one sent to deliver us.”
“Had you now?” asked Lachie, with a glance at Donald.
“I just saw him like that.”
“Who knows? Perhaps you’re right. It felt to me myself like the beginning of strange and wonderful things. But maybe we’d better be going, or they will be saying stranger things to us when we get home.”
Donald’s blue eyes glimmered like a boy’s as he stared away at the sea. Then his grey beard doubled on his chest as he got carefully to his feet.
CHAPTER V
FINN AND THE BUTTERFLY
T he first day he had seen the two white butterflies flitting about the cabbages, little Finn had stared with great astonishment, but after a time had summoned courage to approach them, whereupon they had risen high over his head and got tossed away on the air like flakes of snow. This had excited him keenly, and when he asked his mother in the evening, as she tucked him into bed, what they were, she said they were called “grey fools”.
“But they’re not grey, Mama.”
“What colour, then?”
“White.”
“That’s right. You’re Mama’s clever boy, aren’t you? And when you grow up to be a big man …”
But he was not interested in her words and words to-night . “Where do they come from, Mama?”
“Oh, well, you see, they come from—from many places.”
“Do they? What places?”
“Many and many a place.”
“Do they come from Helmsdale?”
“Yes.”
“And do they come from Canada?”
“Well, I don’t know if they come from Canada. They would have to cross the sea.”
“What’s the sea, Mama? Is it a big, big place full of water?”
“Yes.”
“How big is it?”
“It’s very, very big. It’s bigger than all the moor at the back, away, away to Morven, and farther than that.”
“Is it? It must be awful big.”
“Yes. Now, come, say your prayer and go to sleep, for if little boys don’t sleep they won’t grow into big men, and what——”
“Mama? Couldn’t the grey fools cross above the sea in the air?”
“They might. But it would be such a long, long way that they would grow tired and then what would happen to
A few grey-beards from outlying crofts wandered down to warm themselves at the fires of life that had come to Dunster. Had they accepted all the hospitality offered them by open-handed seamen they would never have managed home on their own feet. As it was, two of them experienced slight, but not unpleasant, difficulty in following the uneven paths.
“We are living in strange times,” said Donald.
“Strange times, indeed. What with Boney off to St. Helena besides,” replied Lachie.
“The world is growing young.”
“And we are growing old, sorrow take it.”
“When I looked on that young fellow and thought to myself that in one night he had made more money than we will make off a croft in a twelve-month—it was hard tobelieve. There must be a terrible lot of money in all the world.”
“Think of Wick and Fraserburgh and Helmsdale and all the other places on the Moray Firth—it beats me where the money can come from.”
“It’s enough almost to frighten a man. Do you think it can last?”
“I have a misgiving myself. It seems hardly right.”
“Even my feet are astonished,” said Donald.
“Let us take it easy,” said Lachie, whose own feet were a trifle wayward.
The two old men sat down and looked back towards the inn and caught a distant glimpse of the high sea. They spoke of the harshness of landlords and of the ills that had befallen their folk. They recalled pleasant days of their distant youth. Perhaps happiness would come to the folk again and more money than ever they had known. For the sea was free to all. They looked upon it, bright still in the darkling night.
“Do you know, man, Lachie, when I saw that lad Roddie, tall and fair, with his blue eyes and his quiet ways, I had the sort of feeling that he had come himself up out of the sea like—like one sent to deliver us.”
“Had you now?” asked Lachie, with a glance at Donald.
“I just saw him like that.”
“Who knows? Perhaps you’re right. It felt to me myself like the beginning of strange and wonderful things. But maybe we’d better be going, or they will be saying stranger things to us when we get home.”
Donald’s blue eyes glimmered like a boy’s as he stared away at the sea. Then his grey beard doubled on his chest as he got carefully to his feet.
CHAPTER V
FINN AND THE BUTTERFLY
T he first day he had seen the two white butterflies flitting about the cabbages, little Finn had stared with great astonishment, but after a time had summoned courage to approach them, whereupon they had risen high over his head and got tossed away on the air like flakes of snow. This had excited him keenly, and when he asked his mother in the evening, as she tucked him into bed, what they were, she said they were called “grey fools”.
“But they’re not grey, Mama.”
“What colour, then?”
“White.”
“That’s right. You’re Mama’s clever boy, aren’t you? And when you grow up to be a big man …”
But he was not interested in her words and words to-night . “Where do they come from, Mama?”
“Oh, well, you see, they come from—from many places.”
“Do they? What places?”
“Many and many a place.”
“Do they come from Helmsdale?”
“Yes.”
“And do they come from Canada?”
“Well, I don’t know if they come from Canada. They would have to cross the sea.”
“What’s the sea, Mama? Is it a big, big place full of water?”
“Yes.”
“How big is it?”
“It’s very, very big. It’s bigger than all the moor at the back, away, away to Morven, and farther than that.”
“Is it? It must be awful big.”
“Yes. Now, come, say your prayer and go to sleep, for if little boys don’t sleep they won’t grow into big men, and what——”
“Mama? Couldn’t the grey fools cross above the sea in the air?”
“They might. But it would be such a long, long way that they would grow tired and then what would happen to
Similar Books
