The barren fields lay untended, for Duncan went to the fishing
to bring a little handful of coins to the master he feared and loved,
and Jean went softly about the kitchen in the shadows.
Suddenly Andrew spoke, and Marcella started, drawing a little nearer to
him.
"Do ye mind, Marcella, when we read yon books from Edinburgh--and you
used to be such an idiot, and make me so mad?"
"I mind it," she nodded, thinking painfully of those hard books.
"There was something in one of them that I seized on with a bitter
scorn. It was explaining how the idea of the sacrament of the Body and
Blood of Christ had grown up. It said how savages, when they saw one of
the tribe better than themselves, would kill him and eat him to make
themselves as good as he. I liked that fine, Marcella. I was bitter in
those days."
"Horrible!" said Marcella with a shiver. "I like to think of the Last
Supper, and the Holy Grail--mother used to read about it all to me--she
used to tell me all about Parsifal and the Love Feast."
"Yes, little Rose was wiser than those books. Ye see, Marcella, it
seems to me there is a time when ye're led by something inside ye to do
things. Like Christ was led to preach, though perhaps he didn't quite
know why. The word was taken out of his mouth--and like I was led to yon
barrel. Things come out of you, right out of deep inside you.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57