(His grief affects them all, but they keep firm. Sentiment must be kept out of it.)
WHAMOND (AFFECTED, BUT COMPELLING HIMSELF TO BE FIERCE). Dinna break down! Bear no ill-will, Rob, to an auld man that has a hard duty to do this night.
(WHAMOND TAKES SNUFF AND THEN OFFERS SNUFFBOX TO DOW. DOW TRIES TO TAKE SNUFF, BUT CANNOT.)
DOW. I call you all to witness, I’ve done with religion — I’d rather be playing cards in Hell than singing psalms in Heaven.
(DOW exits through gate and micah follows him.)
SNECKY. Poor Rob!
ANDREW. This is the end o’t, and Mr. Dishart so highly edicated. That’s the extraordinar’ thing. He goes daft about a woman, and him so highly edicated.
SNECKY. ‘Her Boy Am I.’ What a sermon could be preached frae that text.
WHAMOND. There never was a man that kent more about women, judged by his sermons.
SNECKY (with a LONG GROAN). Oh! How he exposed them!
WHAMOND. Mary, Martha, Sarah, Ruth, Hagar — he made the very teeth of them rattle in their mouths. It fair made me ashamed of being a married man.
ANDREW. How he warned the young men about being careful in their choice. ‘A religious woman is the only pearl of price,’ says he, ‘and see to it she belongs to your own denomination,’ says he, ‘and be no too hasty and watch her first in her home,’ says he, ‘ for it is the good daughter that makes the good wife.’ whamond. You would have said he kent all about the women as plain as though he had wandered through them with a lighted candle.
SNECKY. And yet it has come to this, as it comes to every son of Adam. For a while he thinks women is the poor miserable crittures we all ken them to be, till on a woeful day he sees one, very like the others, and something inside him goes crack, whether he be highly edicated or highly ignorant.
(ENTER silva AT GATE.)
SILVA. Tammas! Tammas, there’s a queer piece o’ gossip being handed frae mouth to mouth in the kirk.
WHAMOND (STERNLY). Gossip in the kirk!
SNECKY. Oh, shame, shame! (EAGERLY) What is’t?
SILVA. It’s about him. Thae twa women, Bell Dundas and Tibbie Birse, that has been searching far and near to match the rose he was so fond o’ —
ANDREW. They ‘re no at the meeting.
SILVA. They came creeping in a quarter of an hour since, near daft wi’ triumph, for they’ve found out that the rose only grows in the green-house o’ Rintoul.
SNECKY. Keep’s all! She had stolen it frae there!
SILVA. Ay; undoubtedly, but that’s no what they think in the kirk, where the news ran round as soft as if a mouse was carrying it. At the back pews it was only that the rose had been pluckit at Rintoul; half a dozen pews down they were whispering had he got it frae Lady Barbara; and as I came out, Bell McQuhathy grips my hand and implores me to tell her for the love o’ Heaven if it’s true that the minister is away buying the ring.
SNECKY. Oh, midgins, midgins!
ANDREW. Mr. Dishart married on a ladyship! What a glory to our kirk!
(WHAMOND nods.)
SNECKY. And what a cause of jealousy — to other kirks!
SILVA. Tammas, this will only mak’ them the more merciless when you tell them the truth.
WHAMOND. That’s so. He’s doomed.
ANDREW. H’st!
(whamond, silva, and andrew look off. All listen intently, andrew nods to them excitedly. They look significantly to each other whamond looks straight before him. All follow his example. Enter gavin through gate. He stops, nervous, and taken aback at sight of them. They ignore him.)
GAVIN (trying to brazen it out). It is a beautiful night — quite like an evening in June.
(WHAMOND snorts, GAVIN takes SNECKY by arm.)
(Fiercely) Hobart — it — is — quite — like — an evening — in —
June!
SNECKY (slowly). ‘ Her Boy Am I.’ GAVIN. Thomas Whamond!
(whamond points slowly over his shoulder to the kirk.)
WHAMOND. Your prayer meeting. I see you’ve been running, Mr. Dishart! That’s no state for a minister’s hat.
(GAVIN takes off hat.)
And your hair!
(GAVIN puts hat on again. All look at each other again.
GAVIN goes to Manse door, rattles it, trying vainly to open it, then looks at WHAMOND. WHAMOND folds his arms again, DOW and MICAH re-enter anxiously at gate.)
GAVIN. Thomas Whamond, the key of the Manse, — quick!
WHAMOND (fiercely). No! Whaur have you been, Mr. Dishart?
GAVIN. Don’t attempt to hector me, sir. The key!
WHAMOND (sadly). We have no desire to hector you, Mr. Dishart. Our hearts are ower heavy for that. But what kept you frae the meeting?
GAVIN (more softly). You have a right to ask me, but I cannot tell you.
ANDREW. Mr. Dishart, we ken all.
SNECKY. Ay, we ken all — and the rest we can guess.
WHAMOND. Say it wasna the Egyptian woman, and we’ll believe you. But say it was — and you shall never again cross the threshold o’ that Manse.
MICAH. Oh, Mr. Dishart, say it. Look at my father and say it!
(whamond takes out key.)
GAVIN. I cannot say it.
(Elders become adamant, WHAMOND puts key of Manse into his pocket.)
ANDREW (hard, turning to whamond). Tammas, the congregation is waiting — are you coming?
WHAMOND (sternly). I’m coming.
(SNECKY goes with him, and SILVA and ANDREW also turn to go.)
DOW (suddenly guarding the way). You PASS ME FIRST!
GAVIN. Rob, THERE MUST BE no BRAWLING HERE. Fall BACK!
DOW (breaking out). No, I winna fall back — and there shall be brawling here! Mr. Dishart, let me break their heads for once, and I promise you I’ll be a religious man for evermore.
GAVIN. I forbid you.
WHAMOND. Follow me.
(Some sound is heard. They all look off.)
ANDREW. Wha are they? Tak’ tent o’ yoursel’s, lads!
MICAH. The red-coats! The red-coats!
WHAMOND. Coming here!
GAVIN. So soon!
(They fall back in consternation as SERGEANT DAVIDSON and two Soldiers enter.)
Don’t be alarmed! These men have not come for you.
DAVIDSON. I don’t know what we have come for, Mr. Dishart. A servant from Rintoul came galloping into the barracks with orders from the Captain to meet him here. I know no more.
SNECKY. He’s no here.
DAVIDSON. He will be here directly. His dogcart is on the brae.
GAVIN (to dow). They have come for me.
(DOW turns up and threatens Soldiers.)
No violence, Rob.
DAVIDSON. I hope I see you well, sir. My compliments to Mrs. Dishart.
WHAMOND. To wha? (Looks amazed at gavin, who turns