First Journey to Thrums 283

the night of Adam Dishart’s home-coming had
made of me a man whom the future could not
surprise again. Though I saw Gavin and his
mother happy in our Auld Licht manse, that did
not prevent my considering the contingencies
which might leave her without a son. In the
schoolhouse I had brooded over them as one
may think over moves on a draught-board. It
may have been idle, but it was done that I might
know how to act best for Margaret if anything
untoward occurred. The time for such action
had come. Gavin’s death had struck me hard,
but it did not crush me. I was not unprepared.
I was going to Margaret now.

What did I see as I walked quickly along the
glen road, with Babbie silent by my side, and I
doubt not pods of the broom crackling all around
us? I saw myself entering the Auld Licht manse,
where Margaret sat weeping over the body of
Gavin, and there was none to break my coming to
her, for none but she and I knew what had been.

I saw my Margaret again, so fragile now, so
thin the wrists, her hair turned gray. No nearer
could I go, but stopped at the door, grieving for
her, and at last saying her name aloud.

I saw her raise her face, and look upon me for
the first time for eighteen years. She did not
scream at sight of me, for the body of her son
lay between us, and bridged the gulf that Adam
Dishart had made.

I saw myself draw near her reverently and say,
“ Margaret, he is dead, and that is why I have
come back,” and I saw her put her arms round
my neck as she often did long ago.