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Updated: May 7, 2025
Every now and then, however, I could see him sway in his saddle under the gusts of laughter at the excellence of McFarquhar's joke.
Then McFarquhar fell into great distress and looked at me imploringly. I rose and went into the next room, closing the door behind me. Then, though I tried to make a noise with the chairs, there rose the sound of McFarquhar's voice; but not with the cadence of the Gaelic prayer.
"Oh did he not ask me about my family altar and my duties to my wife and children?" There was no manner of doubt but Mr. Macleod had done some searching in McFarquhar's heart and had brought him under "deep conviction," as he said himself. And McFarquhar had great faith that the minister would do the same for Ould Michael and was indignant when I expressed my doubts.
Some began to move uneasily in their seats; some tried to assume indifference; some were openly enraged; but none shared McFarquhar's visible and solemn delight. Ould Michael's face showed nothing; but, after all was over, in answer to McFarquhar's enthusiastic exclamation he finally grunted out: "A great sermon, is it? P'raps it was and p'raps it wasn't.
"And more," said the minister, in deepening tones, "it is borne in upon me that his blood will be upon you." McFarquhar's look of horror and fear was pitiable and his voice rose in an agony of appeal. "God be merciful to me! you will not be saying such a word as that." "Fear not," replied the minister, "he will be given to you for a jewel in your crown." McFarquhar was deeply impressed.
Meantime I had, through political friends, set things in motion at Ottawa for the reinstating of Ould Michael in his position as postmaster at Grand Bend, and this, backed up by a petition, which through McFarquhar's efforts bore the name of every old-timer in the valleys, brought about the desired end.
As to McFarquhar, it was easy to see from his face that the prayer was only another proof that the minister had "the gift," but to the others, who had never had McFarquhar's privilege, it was only a marvelous, though impressive performance. Before he closed, however, he remembered the people before him and, in simple, strong, heart-reaching words, he prayed for their salvation.
Long and earnest were their talks and, after every "season," McFarquhar came forth more deeply impressed with the grand powers of the minister. He Had already established the "family altar" in his home and was making some slow progress in instructing his wife and children in "the doctrine of grace," but as Ould Michael began to grow stronger, McFarquhar's anxiety about his state grew deeper.
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