Macfarlane

“ Macfarlane put out a restraining hand. "Leave this to me!" he said quickly.
"We're in each other's way here," cried Ambrose. "Let us spread through some of the rooms."
"Right!" said Macfarlane. "Doane, Giddings, and Miss Colina—go into the library and throw up the windows on this side. Shoot between the boards if I give the word. The guns are inside the door."
A cry from Strange brought them out into the hall again. "They've raised a white flag! They want to parley not to fight." ”

“ Of the lairds of Macfarlane there have been no fewer than twenty-three. The last of them went to North America in the early part of the 18th century. A branch of the family settled in Ireland in the reign of James VII., and the headship of the clan is claimed by its representative, Macfarlane of Hunstown House, in the county of Dublin. The descendants of the ancient chiefs cannot now be traced, and the lands once possessed by them have passed into other hands. ”

“ He left the house at six in the morning and returned at the same hour in the evening. His hands were hardened from some sort of toil-mechanical labor, his companion thought, but he never knew. He would have liked to know, and he watched for some reference to slip out that would betray Macfarlane’s trade; but this never happened.
What he did learn was that Macfarlane was a veritable storehouse of abstruse knowledge; a living dictionary, and a thinker and philosopher besides. He had at least one vanity: the claim that he knew every word in the English dictionary, and he made it good. ”

“ He eagerly felt for the pulses of life, but they were for ever stilled.
“Alas, alas, my faithful Angus!” cried Macfarlane, “art thou gone for ever! Alas, thy fate was indeed too truly read! But I cannot leave thee to feed the devouring flames, or to be a banquet for the ravens when this awful burning shall have passed away. Alas! I promised to provide for thy bridal, and now, since it hath pleased Heaven to dispose it otherwise, it shall not be said that thy chief permitted thee to lack funereal rites!” ”

“ His attachment in that quarter was soon whispered abroad in society; and while it served as a grateful theme for the tongues of Mrs Macfarlane’s former compeers, the favour with which he seemed to be received was equally the subject of envy to the young men, few of whom had ever found much countenance in her house, for want of something to recommend them equally to her husband.
Scarcely any thing is calculated to have so deteriorating an effect upon the mind as the constant fret of an unlawful passion. ”

“ Ambrose did not look at him, but his hand clenched ready to strike.
His eyes were fixed on Colina, demanding an answer.
Color came back to her cheeks and firmness to her voice. "Stop!" she cried to Macfarlane in her old imperious way. "I'm the mistress here. My father is incapable of giving orders. You've no right to judge this man. None of us can choose. There is no evidence. I will not have either one handcuffed!"
Macfarlane fell back disconcerted. "I was thinking of your father's safety," he muttered.
"I will watch over him myself," she said. She went swiftly up the stairs. ”

“ Giddings and Pringle urgently remonstrated with him. Strange held apart as if he considered it none of his business. At last, with a deprecating air, he added his voice to the other men's.
"Look here," he said smoothly; "you know best, of course; but aren't there times when a soldier must make his own rules? All of us men would stand by you gladly, but there's a sick man up-stairs that they have been taught to hate. And a woman."
Macfarlane gave in with a shrug. "I suppose you'll stand by me if I'm hauled up for it," he grumbled.
He drew his revolver and stood aside to let Ambrose pass. ”

“ It's a man on horseback, and we'll soon know who he is, for he's riding hard. I should recognize that horse. Why, it's Macfarlane's chestnut that brings me up from the station in forty minutes and something to spare, and Macfarlane's riding her himself. If the old chap hasn't saddled a horse and ridden up to bring us the news post-haste! Isn't he going! He would never come that speed if it were bad news. They've let it out at the post office, as sure as we're standing here; and, look, Macfarlane has seen us. He's waving his hat, doctor ”

“ But first came the whipping-in of MacFarlane. Bucks went alone to the judge's room on the floor above the parlor suite. It was now near midnight, but MacFarlane had not gone to bed. He was a spare man, with thin hair graying rapidly at the temples and a care-worn face; the face of a man whose tasks or responsibilities, or both, have overmatched him. He was walking the floor with his head down and his hands—thin, nerveless hands they were—tightly locked behind him, when the governor entered.
For a large man the Honorable Jasper was usually able to handle his weight admirably ”

“ No one could quite understand how a pretty woman of her stamp, who so admired physical beauty in men and was herself able to appeal to them after a certain fashion, had come to marry a big, grumpy, bear of a fellow like MacFarlane. Some months before, returning from the East on leave, MacFarlane had electrified every man and woman connected with the Force by bringing with him this unknown beauty as his bride. How on earth had he managed it—when, even now, she clearly revealed her preference by furtively ogling all handsome men, even the constables? ”

“ Macfarlane.
I’m willing to take my chance of that. It has no terrors for a man who’s not had a holiday for twenty years.
Vicar.
You’re not an irreligious man. I don’t know why you don’t come to church.
Dr. Macfarlane.
Shall I tell you? Because after repeated experiment I’ve reached the conclusion that I’m not a whit the better for it.
John.
You’ll have to give him up, Vicar. He’s a stubborn old thing. He takes advantage of the fact that he’s the only doctor within ten miles who won’t kill you so long as he can make seven and sixpence a visit by keeping you alive.
Colonel Wharton. ”

“ The breed smiled deprecatingly and forgivingly.
"Hold your tongue, and be thankful you're getting off so easy,"
Macfarlane said, full of honest contempt.
Ambrose became very pale. He turned his back, on them, and, climbing over the wire barrier, marched stiffly down to the gate. The consciousness of innocence is supposed to be sufficient to armor a man against any slanders, but this is only partially true.
When one's accusers are honest, their scorn hurts, hurts more than any other wound we are capable of receiving. Ambrose was of the type that rages against a hurt. ”

“ Colina and Gordon Strange half led, half carried the old man up-stairs.
Strange, returning, relieved Macfarlane's watch at the side door. Macfarlane, Ambrose, Giddings, and Pringle lay down on the sofa and on the floor of the library.
Three of them were almost instantly asleep. Not so Ambrose. As soon as he saw the half-breed left in sole charge his smoldering suspicions leaped into activity.
"If he's meditating anything queer this is the time he'll start it!" he thought. He took care to choose his position on the floor nearest the door. He left the door open. ”

“ MacFarlane, and also that he might raise his voice against the slipshod work that was being done by men who either did not know their business or purposely evaded their responsibilities. “This construction of McGowan's,” he continued, “is especially to be condemned, as there is not the slightest doubt that the contractor has intentionally slighted his work—a neglect which, but for the thorough manner in which MacFarlane had constructed the lower culvert, might have resulted in the loss of many lives.” ”

“ MacFarlane and ourselves, with two of the gunmen, were to ride over the mountains. The bridle trail led through questionable territory, but it was shorter.
Neither Eustace nor I had ever ridden a mule before. Both of us had read Western fiction, and had noted that the hero not only loved his steed, but left nearly everything to the animal’s good judgment, and that the noble beast, appreciating and reciprocating his master’s affection and trust, invariably anticipated his every wish, and carried the hero out of every conceivable difficulty. ”

“ Macfarlane’s statements, in his ‘Glance at Revolutionized Italy,’ and in his appendix, I am convinced, are by no means too favourable. The absurd, ridiculous, superficial, and notoriously false facts and figures of Mr. Whiteside will never counteract the solid truth of the rival, and more experienced, and far more talented tourist.... ”

“ The boy slipped off the table and began to search on the ground. His cap had fallen from his hand when he fell down in his swoon. He picked it up from beneath a chair. He did not look any more at Clutterbuck; he made no appeal to anyone in the room; but though his legs still faltered from weakness, he walked silently out of the door, and in a little we heard his footsteps upon the stone stairs and the banisters creaking, as though he clung to them, while he descended, for support.
"Good God, Clutterbuck!" cried Macfarlane "he's but a boy." ”

“ Macfarlane rubbed his hand against his thigh with evident pleasure and satisfaction. ‘He’s wrong there,’ he murmured, ‘undoubtedly wrong, as every judicious person could easily tell him;{586} but no matter. He’ll do now, when once he’s got life enough left in him to contradict one. It always does a Dupuy good to contradict other people. Let it be rum, then—a wine-glassful of Mr Tom’s best stilling.’
Almost as soon as the rum was swallowed, Mr Dupuy seemed to mend rapidly for the passing moment. He looked up and saw Nora. ”

“ He's a minister without a kirk, an' he's juist learnin' his sermon; but, Losh keep us, he's by ordinar' the day.
“He's my cousin's son, ye see”—and Mrs. Macfarlane settled to historical detail—“an' his mother's a weedow. She focht to get him through St. Andrew's, an' hoo she managed passes me. Noo he's what is called a probationer, an', eh, but he earns his livin' hard.
“His business,” continued Mrs. Macfarlane, “is to tak' the pulpit when a minister is awa' at a Sacrament or on his holiday, and any Sabbath he micht be at Peterhead and the next at Wigtown. ”

“ Macfarlane paused to consult with another man—probably Gordon Strange.
The others talked in excited whispers, and circled on one another without making any forward movement. Messengers were despatched up and down the road.
Suddenly a petticoated figure came flying down the sidewalk from the store. Ambrose's heart leaped up, and then as suddenly calmed. He told himself grimly he was cured.
It was Colina. "What are you standing here for?" she cried passionately. "Are you afraid? They are nothing but common robbers! Go and put them out!"
No man moved.
"Fire on them!" cried Colina. "I order it! ”

“ In the days of thy grandfather, the dread Conqueror of this kingdom, when the Domesday-book was made, Reading had only twenty-nine houses; but now look abroad, and see how new houses have risen, and men have increased under the shadow of our peaceful walls."
"There will be woe and want among that industrious people," said abbat Edward, "if thou carriest away from us this great spoil, and all the money that we have minted! The curse of the poor, which is the next terriblest thing to the curse of God and holy church, will cling to thee, oh countess, or queen! Look to it, oh Matilda! ”

“ And some others in the “Proceedings of the Royal Society of Canada.” Mr. Macfarlane was reared a Presbyterian in the U. P. Church of Scotland, and while a young man adopted materialistic views, but has since abandoned them, and is now a member of the Anglican church. He married in September, 1858, Margaret Skelly, niece of Dr. John Litster, Pollokshaws, Scotland, and they have nine children, all living.
Currey, Lemuel Allan, M.A., Barrister-at-law, St. John, New Brunswick, was born at Gagetown, Queens county, on 11th July, 1856. ”

“ MACFARLANE, JOHN, LL.D. (1807–1874) , Scottish divine, born in Dunfermline on 7 Feb. 1807, was third son of James Macfarlane, for forty years colleague, and afterwards successor at Queen Anne Street Church, Dunfermline, of James Husband, D.D. (d. 1821) , whose daughter Grace was his wife. She died in giving birth to her ninth child when John was eight years of age. Of his brothers, James became the leading solicitor in Dunfermline, William Husband a well-known lithographer in Edinburgh, George and Wardlaw merchants in Glasgow, and Andrew, minister of Trinity U. P. Church, Greenock. ”

“ Macfarlane.
It may be at any time.
Colonel Wharton.
[With a sudden cry of terror.] Evelyn! Evelyn!
Mrs. Wharton.
Oh, my dear! My dear husband!
[She takes him in her arms as though to protect him.
Dr. Macfarlane.
Why did you force me to tell you?
Colonel Wharton.
[In a terrified whisper.] Oh, Evelyn! Evelyn!
Mrs. Wharton.
[To the others.] Please go.
John.
[To Sylvia.] Come. They want to be alone. Dr. Macfarlane, will you come into the garden for a few minutes?
Dr. Macfarlane. ”

“ MACMILLAN, HUGH (1833–1903) , presbyterian divine and religious writer, born at Aberfeldy on 17 Sept. 1833, was eldest son in the family of six sons and three daughters of Alexander Macmillan, merchant of Aberfeldy, by his wife Margaret Macfarlane. After attending a school in his native place and Hill Street Academy, Edinburgh, he entered the university of Edinburgh, where he went through the arts course and also studied medicine. ”

“ The very dignity and measured self-restraint of the minister's utterance robbed the woman of her usual admirable self-mastery. She cowered with timid face amid her pillows, as her mind leaped back to that night in the restaurant with Litschi, and the terrible lengths to which she had gone to shock this same big, dynamic, ardent Hampstead from his pursuit of her. ”