II. The Road to Calidon

           TheministersatathissupperofporridgeandbuttermilkwhenIsobelbrokeinonhim,herapple-huedfacesolemnandtearful.

           "There’sillnewsfraeupthewater,Mr.Sempill.It’sMarionSimpson,herthat’swifetoRichieSmail,theherdo’theGreenshiel.Marion,puirbody,hasbeenillwi’awastin’thepasttwalmonth,andnowitseemsshe’snearherrelease.JohnnieDow,thepackman,isbenthehouse,andhehasbrochtwordthatRichieisfairdementit,andthatthewifeisnoliketolastthenicht,andwouldtheministercomeuptotheGreenshiel.They’venaebairns,theLordbethankit;butRichieandMarionhaveayebeenfellfondo’ither,andRichie’sanauldexercisedChristianandhasbeenmanytimesspokeno’fortheeldership.Idootye’llhaetotak’theroad,sir."

           Itwashisfirstcalltopastoralduty,and,thoughhehadhopedtobeathisbooksbycandle-light,Davidrespondedgladly.Heputhislegsintoboots,saddledhisgreycob,flunghisplaidroundhisshoulders,andintenminuteswasreadytostart.Isobelwatchedhimlikeamother.

           "I’llhaeacupo’burnedyill[ale]waitin’foryetofendoffthecauld--nobutwhatit’safinelown[mild]nicht.Yekentheroad,sir?UpbyMirehopeandroundbythebacko’theHill."

           "There’saquickerwaybyRoodfoot,andonthiserrandthere’snotimetolose."

           "Butthat’sthroughtheWud,"Isobelgasped."It’snomethatwouldgothroughtheWudinthedark,nornaebodyinWoodilee.Butaministerisdifferent,naedoot."

           "Theroadisplain?"heasked.

           "Aye,it’splaineneuch.