Geordies Tryst | Page 4

childish world to Grace, and years after, when the old pew knew her no
more, and she asked admittance to it as a stranger, she glanced round in
the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the broad, shining, kindly faces
of the old couple, feeling that to see them in their place would bring
back many pleasanter bygone associations than snuff and peppermint

lozenges.
On this Sunday afternoon Grace perceived that there was something out
of the ordinary routine in prospect. The pews were filling more quickly
than they usually did. Strangers were gathering in the passage, and a
general flutter of excitement and expectation seemed everywhere to
prevail.
"What is going to happen, I wonder, Margery?" whispered Grace,
impatiently; and presently the tinsmith leant across the book-board and
kindly volunteered the information that they were going to have a
"strange minister the night, and a special collection for some
new-fangled thing."
And then Grace turned towards the pulpit in time to see the "strange
minister," who had just entered it. He was a tall man, of a stately
though easy presence, with grace and life in every gesture. As she
looked at him Grace Campbell was reminded of an historical scene, a
picture of which hung in the old hall at Kirklands, of a mixed group of
Cavaliers and Puritans. This preacher seemed in his appearance
curiously to combine the varied characteristics of both the types of men
in these portraits. That graceful flexibility of tone and movement, the
high forehead and waving locks, surely belong to the gallant old
Cavalier, but there is something of the stern Puritan too. The
resoluteness of the firm though mobile mouth betokens a strength of
moral purpose, which does not belong to the caste of the mere court
gentleman; about those delicately-cut nostrils there dwells a possibility
of quivering indignation, and in the eyes that are looking broodingly
down on the congregation true pathos and keen humour are strangely
blended.
Presently the deep, flexible voice, which had the soul of music in its
tones, re-echoed through the church as he called the people to worship
God, and read some verses of an old psalm. Familiar as the words were
to Grace, they seemed as he read them to have a new meaning, to be no
longer seven verses with queer, out-of-the-way expressions, that had
cost her trouble to learn as a Sunday evening's task, but a beautiful, real
prayer to a God that was listening, and would hear, as the "strange

minister's" voice pealed out,--
"Lord, bless and pity us, Shine on us with Thy face; That the earth Thy
way, and nations all May know Thy saving grace."
And when the sermon came, and the preacher began to talk in thrilling
words of that saving health which the Great Healer of souls had died to
bring to all nations, Grace felt the reality of those unseen, eternal things
of which he spoke as she had never done before. Then there were
interspersed with those faithful, burning words for God beautiful
illustrations from nature, which fascinated the little girl's imagination,
as she sat gazing, not at the gilded cherubs to-night, but on the
benignant, earnest face of the speaker. He surely must have been a
sailor, or he could never have known so well what a storm at sea was
like, she thought, as she listened, spell-bound, feeling as if she was
looking out on the angry sea, with the helpless wrecking ships tossing
upon the waves; but then in another moment he took them into the
thick of some ancient battle, where the brave-hearted "nobly
conquering lived or conquering died;" or it was to some fair, pastoral
scene, and then the preacher seemed to know so well all the delights of
heathery hills and pleasant mossy glades, that Grace thought he
certainly must have been at Kirklands and wandered among its woods
and braes. And into each of his wonderful photographs he wove many
holy, stirring thoughts of God, and of those "ways" of his that may be
known upon the earth, of which they had been singing.
Presently the preacher began to talk of what the worthy tinsmith had
called the "new-fangled scheme," for which, he said, he stood there to
plead that evening. He had come to ask help for the little outcast city
children. It was before the days when School Boards were born or
thought of that this gallant-hearted man sought to move the feelings
and rouse the consciences of men on behalf of those who seemed to
have no helper. It was for aid to establish schools for those destitute
children, where they might be clothed and fed as well as educated, that
he went on to plead. Grace sat entranced, listening to the preacher, as
with