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But then came the prick of conscience: he had come to plead for Pete, and he must be loyal; he must not yield; he must exhaust all his resources of argument and persuasion. The wild idea occurred to him to take Cæsar by force of the Bible. "But think what the old book says, Mr. Cregeen, 'take no thought for the morrow' " "That's what Johnny Niplightly said, Mr.
Presently, through a tangle of wild fuchsia, there was a smell of burning turf in the air and the sound of milking into a pail, and then a voice came up surprisingly as from the ground, saying: "Aisy on the thatch, Miss Cregeen, ma'am."
"Compose yourself, Mr. Cregeen," said Philip, and he tried to take him by the arm. But Cæsar broke away, blew a terrific blast on his ram's horn, and went striding round the house again. When he came back the next time there was a deep roll of thunder in the air, and he said, "It's the Ballawhaine. He had the stone five years, and he used to groan so."
"Very well, if you know better. Good-day! But let the wedding wait. Traa dy liooar time enough, Mr. Cregeen. A right good Manx maxim for once. Put it off put it off!" "It's not my putting off, doctor. What can you do with a man that's wanting to be married? You can't bridle a horse with pincers."
Cæsar stood like a strong man amidst their moans and groans, their bowings of the head and clappings of the hands, and, when he heard the farmer, his look was severe. "Cloddy," said he, "how do you dare to doubt the providence of God?" "Aisy to talk, Mr. Cregeen," the farmer whined, "but you've got your own harvest saved," and then Cæsar had no resource but to punish the man in prayer.
Not to-day at all to-morrow maybe," said Grannie, and Kate clutched at the word, and answered eagerly "Yes, tomorrow, mother; to-morrow maybe." Before noon Philip had come again. Kate heard his horse's step on the road, trotting hard from the direction of Peel. He drew up at the porch, but did not alight, and Grannie went out to him. "I'll not come in to-day, Mrs. Cregeen," he said.
"It's feeling the same as the sun on your back at harvest," she murmured, yet the poultices brought no heat to her frozen chest. Cæsar Cregeen was at her side; John the Clerk, too, called John the Widow; Kelly, the rural postman, who went by the name of Kelly the Thief; as well as Black Tom, her father. Cæsar was discoursing of sinners and their latter end.
"I turned my Jewish story into a Manx story, and 'The Jew' became 'The Manxman. In my original scheme, Philip was to be a Christian, governor of his province in Russia; Pete, Cregeen, and Kate were to be Jews.
"What if it was not Ross " Cæsar glanced over his shoulder. "What if it was some one else " said Philip. Cæsar stopped in front of him. "Some one you have never thought of some one you have respected and even held in honour " "Who, then?" said Cæsar huskily. "Mr. Cregeen," said Philip, "it is hard for me to speak.
With that Black Tom swept out of the house, and Cæsar wiped his eyes. "No use smoothing a thistle, Mr. Cregeen," said Jonaique soothingly. "I've a conscience void of offence." said Cæsar. "I can only follow the spirit's leading. But when Belial " He was interrupted by a most mournful cry of "Look here! Aw, look, then, look!"
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