Запретный лес

           Muirhead,hadlostatupandhadhisbyreroofcrushedinbythedrift,sohebecameafatalist,holdingthattheLordhadpreparedavisitationwhichitwouldbeimpietytoresist,andsatlugubriouslybyhisfireside.David’sfingersitchedforhisears.FromAmosRitchietheblacksmithhegotbetterassistance.Amoswasashaggy,black-beardedmanofthirty-five,agreatfiddlerandamightyputterofthestone,whosegodlinessmighthavebeensuspectbutforhisbehaviourintheBishops’War.Hiswifewasatdeath’sdoorallthroughthestorm,butheneverthelessconstitutedhimselftheminister’sfirstlieutenant,andwroughtvaliantlyintheworkofrelief.Therewereoldwomentoochilledandfrailtokindletheirfiresinthemorningandmeltsnowforwater;therewerehouseholdssoillprovidedthattheyexistedlargelyonborrowedfood;therewerecotswheretheweatherhadbrokenrooforwall.Isobelinthemansekitchenwasabusywoman,andhergirdlewasneveroffthefire.Davidhadlookedforwardtothewintersnowsasaseasonofpeace,whenhecouldsitindoorswithhisbooks;insteadhefoundhimselfonhisfeetforfourteenhoursoutofthetwenty-four,hishandsandfacechappedlikeaploughman’s,andsowearyatnightthathefelloffhischairwithsleepwhileIsobelfetchedhissupper.

           YetitwasthestormwhichwasDavid’strueordinationtohisduties,foritbroughthimclosetohispeople,notinhighsacramentalthingslikedeath,butintheirdailywrestlingforlife.