"Neil must have had great influence over you, Christine," and Angus said the words disagreeably. He was feeling jealous of any influences but his own controlling Christine.
"Ay, I always did what he told me to do. Step softly, Angus. The Domine is talking."
When they reached the Domine's side, they found him turning the leaves of a very old Bible. "You see, Colonel," he said, "my father gave me The Book when I first came here. My ancestors have preached from it since A.D. 1616. It came to me through a long succession of good men. It has been my close, personal friend ever since. The finest Bible in Scotland could not take its place. There are pages in it that have been luminous to me. I have seen the glory shining out of the black letters. There are pages in it so sensitive to me that I feel a special spiritual emanation from them. I will be glad of a new cushion for The Book, for the one on which it now lies is worn and shabby, and that ought not to be."
"Then I cannot give you a new Bible, even for the church."
"Impossible! I could not preach from a new Bible. Colonel, it is not a book, it is a friend. We have secrets together. I have promises from it, that are yet owing me. It holds our confidences for thirty years. Sometimes I think it really speaks to me. Sometimes a glory seems to shine over the page I am reading, and my soul is so happy, that my tongue speaks aloud joyfully the shining words that have been given me."
"I would not separate you from such a Bible, Sir."
"I shall be grateful if you give me a new cushion for it. Nothing is too good for The Book."
Then they stood looking thoughtfully over the bare place. It had an old, past look. It was plain and moldy, and needed repairing in every way. The Colonel made a note of what was required in the nave of the kirk, and then glanced upward. The gallery appeared to be in still worse condition, but in front of it there was a wonderfully beautiful model of a full-rigged ship.
"Ah!" exclaimed the Colonel, "a ship instead of a clock! Is that right, Sir?"
"Quite. I put it there. It was made by a sailor lad born in Culraine, who came here to die. Long, painful, hopeless days were soothed by the fashioning of that miniature ship. All the village watched its progress, all felt an interest in the dying lad. He finished it on the eve of his death. Young and old came to bid him good-by, and to see his white, trembling hands dress the topmost spar, and fly the blue Peter. 'I am just about to sail,' he said, 'sae I'll up wi' the blue Peter. That means I'm ready to go. Let her carry it till I'm safely hame.' I put a new Peter on the top-mast last year," said the Domine, and his eyes filled with tears, as he looked steadfastly at the emblem.