But nothing came of it. They had to wait
full five minutes yet before the messenger returned, bearing the large
volume in both hands in front of him.
"Tak' the buik up to Mr Turnbull, Jeames, and snuff his can'les," said
Thomas.
James took the snuffers, but Richard started up, snatched them from
him, and performed the operation himself with his usual success.
The book being laid on the desk before Mr Turnbull, Thomas called out
into the back region of the chapel,
"Noo, Robert Bruce, come foret, and fin' oot this inscription that ye
ken a' aboot sae weel, and read it to the church, that they may see
what a scholar they hae amo' them."
But there was neither voice nor hearing.
After a pause, Mr Turnbull spoke.
"Mr Bruce, we're waiting for you," he said. "Do not be afraid. You
shall have justice."
A dead silence followed the appeal. Presently some of those furthest
back???-they were women in hooded cloaks and _mutches_-???spoke in scarce
audible voices.
"He's no here, sir. We canna see him," they said.
The minister could not distinguish their words.
"No here!" cried Thomas, who, deaf as he was, had heard them. "He was
here a minute ago! His conscience has spoken at last.
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