Allison Bain

“ But it was not the wind which silenced his song, for Allison Bain was no “haughty hizzie” of the sort, “Who frown to lead a lover on,” but a sad and solitary woman, who might have a sorrowful life before her.
“To whom may the Lord be kind!” said John, with a softened heart. “I love her, and it is no sin to love her, since I may never see her face again.” ”

“ But all that had been long past before Allison Bain came with her spoiled life, and her heavy heart, to seek shelter under his roof. By that time, to no minister—to no man in all the countryside—was a truer respect, a fuller confidence given, by those whose good word was of any value. ”

“ Mr Rainy said nothing for a moment, but looked doubtfully at the doctor.
“He is an unworldly kind of a man,” said he to himself, “and though he has not said as much, I daresay he is thinking in his heart that it is a fine thing in Allison Bain to be firm in refusing to take the benefit of what was left to her. And if I were to tell who the next of kin is, it might confirm her in her foolishness. But I’ll say nothing to him, nor to Mrs Esselmont.” ”

“ He was afraid, not of Brownrig, but of himself. He was growing wild at the thought that this man should have any hold over Allison Bain—that the time might come when, with the help of the law, he might have her in his power. But he restrained himself, and was outwardly calm to the last.
“Ye’re wise to go your ways,” said the innkeeper, as John went into the open air. “Yon man’s no easy to do wi’, when he gets past a certain point. He’ll give these two lads all the story of his wrongs, as he calls it, before he’s done. He’s like a madman, drinking himself to death.” ”

“ And when John ended thus, “You will be proud of your brother yet, Allison,” she put out her hand, and John took it, and, for a moment, held it closely.
Before Allison came in John had said to Robert:
“You are not to go away; I have nothing to say to Allison Bain to-night that all Nethermuir might not hear.”
But for the moment he wished the words unsaid. A wild desire “to put all to the touch” and know his fate assailed him. He spoke quietly enough, however, when he went on to tell, in answer to Allison’s questions, why Willie had gone away so suddenly to the West. ”

“ He can set her duty before her, as to the spending of the money. They are good at that, these ministers. And there is Mrs Esselmont! If she were to take up Allison Bain, it would be the making of her. And she might well do it. For John Bain came of as good a stock as any Esselmont of them all. Only of late they let slip their chances—set them at naught, I daresay, as Mistress Allison is like to do. Yes, I’ll write to Mrs Esselmont. She has taken to serious things of late, I hear, but she kens as weel as anither the value of a competence to a young woman like Allison Bain. ”

“ Dr Fleming listened in silence. He had never forgotten Allison Bain. He had never been told her story before; but through some words spoken by Mr Hadden, and later by Mr Hume, he knew that she had a story, and that it was a sad one. It was not necessary for him to say all this to Mr Rainy, who ended by saying:
“What I want you to tell me is, whether the man is likely to live or to die.” And then he added, with an oath, “If I thought he might live, I would not lift my finger to bring a woman like her, into the power of a man like him. ”

“ Though Saunners would not have owned that the woman’s words had hastened his departure, he lost no time in setting out. It was not impossible that, should Brownrig fall in with him later, he might seek to find out whether he had ever seen or heard of Allison Bain, since that seemed to be his way with strangers. That he should wile out of him any information that he chose to keep to himself, Saunners thought little likely. But he might ask a direct question; and the old man told himself he could hold up his face and lie to no man, even to save Allison Bain. ”

“ Every hour my strength renew.”
“Mistress Beaton,” said the old man, “it is a liberty I am taking to trouble you at this late hour. But I hae been at the manse to get speech o’ Allison Bain, and if I dinna see her the nicht I kenna when I may see her, and it is of importance.”
Allison came forward, and offered her hand with a smile.
“I am sorry that you have had the trouble of seeking for me,” said she.
“That’s neither here nor there. I am glad to see you safe hame again. Ye hae been doin’ your duty down yonder they tell me. May ye ay hae the grace to do it. I hae some words to say to ye. ”

“ Saunners told of the bonny, quiet place on the hillside, where he had laid her down, and before he had taken time to consider, the name of Allison Bain had been uttered.
“I saw the names of her father and her mother—‘John Bain and Allison his wife’—on a fine, new headstane that had been put over them by their son. They hae been dead a year and more. Decent folk they seem to hae been. He farmed his ain land. I heard about it from a wee bowed wifie who was there in the kirkyard. ”

“ You have won the respect and confidence of your master and mistress, who ought to know you well by this time. I am willing to trust you as they have done without knowing more of you than they have seen with their own eyes. I think you are a good woman, Allison Bain. You have not knowingly done what is wrong. ”

“ Is there no one who is aware of what has befallen you?”
Allison grew red and then pale. It was the last question that she answered.
“It was in our parish that Saunners Crombie buried his wife. One night he came into the manse kitchen, and he told me that he had seen my name on a new headstone, ‘John Bain and Allison his wife’—the names of my father and mother. And he had some words with one who had known me all my life. ”

“ Before he went away on the morning after they had heard the story which Crombie had to tell, John Beaton had said to his mother:
“If Allison Bain seems anxious or restless, you must find some way of letting her know that she has nothing to fear from the old man. He will say nothing to harm her.” ”

“ I just took the road without loss o’ time, whether it was wise to do it or no.”
“To my mind it was both wise and kind,” said Mrs Beaton. “As ye say, there may be truth in the story; but the telling of it here will be the same thing to Allison Bain, whether it be true or false. She is alone and friendless, it seems, and that a young lass should be spoken about at all is a harm to her, and a word might be the means of sending her out into the world without a friend. Surely the Lord was keeping His eye on her for good when He sent her to the manse, and into the hands of such a woman as Mrs Hume.” ”

“ But ‘all that a man hath will he give for his life,’ the Book says, And I will do my best to live.”
The doctor said nothing.
“It is not that I’m feared to die. If all is true that Doctor Kirke has been saying to me, why should I fear? ‘More willing to forgive, than ye are to be forgiven,’ says he. And I can believe it. I do believe it. If Allison Bain can forgive, surely He will not refuse, who is ‘merciful and full of compassion’. And I hope—I believe—that I am forgiven.”
Looking up, Doctor Fleming saw the tears on the sick man’s cheek. ”

“ It will be a sore thing for her to go home and find only graves.”
“Doctor,” said Brownrig suddenly, “you’ll no’ set yourself against it longer—for the sake of Allison Bain!”
“My friend,” said the doctor, bending forward and taking his hand, “I see what your thought is, and I honour you for it. Wait a day or two more before you make your plans to go, and then, if it is possible for you to have your wish, you shall have it, and all shall be made as easy and safe for you as it can possibly be made. You are right in thinking that you will never—be a strong man again. ”

“ Indeed, sir, I canna think it right for you to go so far. Mightna ye just bide still at home till they come to the kirkyard?”
But the minister shook his head. “I will need to go, Barbara. Think of poor Allison Bain on this sorrowful day.”
“Ay, poor Allie! I’m wae for her this sorrowful day, as ye say. Greatly she’ll need a good word spoken to her. But in a’ the rain—and at your age—”
“Ay! I am a good ten years older than the man we are to lay in the grave. I might, as ye say, meet them at the kirkyard, but I must see that desolate bairn. And I think it may be fair.” ”

“ Strangely enough, Allison fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. The dawn found her up, and ready for the long walk to the point where she was to take the mail-coach to Aberdeen. It cannot be said that she had no misgivings, no faintness of heart, as she turned on the hilltop, and looked back on the house which had been first her refuge, and then her home for so long. For even when she was faraway from Nethermuir, and from Scotland, it was to the manse her thoughts turned as home. ”

“ Ye needna be feared,” said Mistress Jamieson, with offence. “But why should ye wish to give it to me?”
“Because I hae naebody else to gi’e it to. There’s not, to my knowledge, one living that ever belonged to me. I may be dead before ye come back again. And I like ye, Allison Bain. And the ring may keep evil from ye, if ye wear it on your hand.”
Allison looked anxiously into the old woman’s eager face. What did she mean? Why did she offer to her a marriage ring? Did she know more than others knew about her? Was a new danger coming upon her? She must not anger her, at any rate. ”

“ But the minister could not agree with his son.
“Another woman might forgive and love him, but never Allison Bain. She can never honour him, unless he should greatly change, and then I doubt it might be too late for love.”
They were drawing near the house by this time, where many neighbours had already gathered to do honour to the dead. ”

“ So “the Books” were brought out and Allison Bain was called in from the kitchen. The minister asked God’s blessing on the reading of the Word and then he chose a Psalm instead of the chapter in Numbers which came in course. It was the thirty-fourth:
“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth,” and so on to the end.
“The Lord redeemeth the soul of His servants, and none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate.”
“He believes it all,” said Allison Bain to herself, lifting once again her sad eyes to his face. And then they sang:
“Oh! ”

“ Yes, she must be brought to hear reason. She seemed to ken Dr Fleming. I will see him. A word from a man like him might have weight with her. I will see him at once.”
Mr Rainy lost no time. He needed to say his say quickly, for the doctor had much before him in his day’s work. The patience with which he listened, soon changed to eager interest. “It is about Brownrig—the man whose horse fell with him in the street—that I want to ask. He was brought to the infirmary lately. You must have seen him.”
Then in the fewest possible words that he could use, Mr Rainy told the story of Allison Bain. ”

“ Gude-nicht to be. Ye hae shortened my road, and mony thanks. I winna ask ye to come in.”
“No. I must be early up and awa’ in the morning, and it may be long ere I be home again. Ye might look in on my mother whiles, when ye’re down our way. She’s much alone.”
If John had planned his best to win Saunners to friendliness, and to silence concerning the affairs of Allison Bain, he could have said nothing more to the purpose than that. Saunners accepted the invitation, and came now and then to inquire for the health of Mrs Beaton, and “heard only good words from her,” as he said. ”

“ He came to the house while Mr Bain lived, but one told me who saw him there often, that since the day of their marriage Allison has neither given him good word nor bad, nor touched his hand, nor lifted her eyes to his face. Doubtless the man must have his misgivings about her and about what is to happen now. ”

“ And what say ye, John?”
“I say that my mother seldom makes a mistake when she lets herself speak strongly about any matter. I agree with her that ye took the right course when ye made up your mind to say nothing about the matter.”
Crombie fidgeted in his chair, and was silent for a minute or two.
“I said nothing to the man himsel’, but I did drop a word to Allison Bain. She said nothing, but I saw by her face that she understood. I only hope I may na hae done ill in speakin’.” ”

“ How it happened canna be said, but they found him in the morning lying by the dike-side, dead—it was supposed at first. But they carried him to the infirmary, and he is living yet. He is coming to himself, and kens folk, and he may live to leave the place, but it’s less than likely.”
“And who bade you come to Allison Bain with all this?” asked Mrs Beaton, gravely. “And are you quite sure it is true?”
“Oh! ay, it’s true. I didna come to her with hearsays. I gaed mysel’ to the infirmary and I saw him with my ain een. And who bade me come here to her, say ye? ”

“ But when the lamp was lighted, she “wasna just sae sure,” even then, who it was that had come in.
“Dinna ye mind Allie Bain, and how good ye were to her, the day she gaed awa?”
“Ay do I. Weel that. Eh, woman! Are ye Allie Bain?”
The lamp did not cast a very bright light, but it fell full on Allison’s face.
“Eh! but ye’re grown a bonny woman! Sit ye doon and rest yersel’. And wha is this? Is it witless Willie, as I’ve heard folk ca’ him?” ”

“ When the minister opened the parcel which Allison Bain had sent him, he found folded within it her marriage lines and a plain gold ring.
Chapter Two.
“Martinmas dowie did wind up the year.”
The little town of Nethermuir stands in the shire of “bonnie Aberdeen,” though not in the part of it which has been celebrated in song and story for beauty or for grandeur. But in summertime the “gowany braes” which lie nearest to it, and the “heather braes” into which they gradually change as they rise higher in the distance, have a certain beauty of their own. ”