10 The Little Minister

beard alone. Of this beard he took prodigious
care, though otherwise thinking little of his
appearance, and I now see that he understood
women better than I did, who had nevertheless
reflected much about them. It cannot be said
that he was vain, for though he thought he
attracted women strangely, that, I maintain, is a
weakness common to all men, and so no more to
be marvelled at than a stake in a fence. Foreign
oaths were the nails with which he held his talk
together, yet I doubt not they were a curiosity
gathered at sea, like his chains of shells, more for
his own pleasure than for others’ pain. His
friends gave them no weight, and when he wanted
to talk emphatically he kept them back, though
they were then as troublesome to him as eggs to
the bird-nesting boy who has to speak with his
spoil in his mouth.

Adam was drowned on Gavin’s fourth birth-
day, a year after I had to leave Harvie. He was
blown off his smack in a storm, and could not
reach the rope his partner flung him. “It’s
no go, lad,” he shouted; “so long, Jim,” and
sank.

A month afterwards Margaret sold her share
in the smack, which was all Adam left her,
and the furniture of the house was rouped. She
took Gavin to Glasgow, where her only brother
needed a housekeeper, and there mother and son
remained until Gavin got his call to Thrums.
During those seventeen years I lost knowledge
of them as completely as Margaret had lost
knowledge of me. On hearing of Adam’s death
I went back to Harvie to try to trace her, but