The Fanatic by James Robertson

Author:James Robertson [Robertson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780007404766
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2000-05-13T12:00:00+00:00

James Mitchel clung to her on the narrow bed of the cell. She felt the wooden planks beneath her, unyielding and hard. James grunted and came into her.

Had she come to the Bass for this? she asked herself. No, she had come in the secret, vain hope that this might be her time, that by some strange deliverance God might bless them.

‘When will ye come again?’ he asked later, as Elizabeth was getting ready to go.

‘I dinna ken,’ she told him. ‘It isna easy, James. Ma brither Nicol’s wife has taen ower the stall these last days, but she canna afford the time and I canna afford tae pey her for it. Forby, Nicol has troubles o his ain tae thole. First he was pit oot o the clerkship o the guild o hammermen and noo he’s been chairged wi disruptin their elections. He could loss the richt tae practise his craft, or be sent tae the Tolbooth himsel. But I will come again if I can.’

She knew though that she would not return, that these were just excuses. The real reason was what was between her and James: something that was nothing to do with love and everything to do with it. She could not bear the thought of repeating their act in this awful place. She could not bear seeing and smelling and touching her poor ruined husband in this dreadful pit. She was bound to him by law and by love, and yet she lived as freely as a widow, but without a widow’s penury. The stall would never make her rich, but it gave her an income. And although, through James, she was firmly attached to and associated with the Presbyterian party, his past actions meant she was also set apart from many within that broad swathe of opinion; and so long as he was in prison, she need not be dragged into more trouble and danger on account of religion. The truth was – and she did not wish the Bass upon him or any man – she was better off without him.

She picked up her basket. There was one thing she had not yet given him. She had brought a book, worn, spine-cracked, its pages wavy from damp journeys. It would give him comfort, but she had swithered about bringing it at all. She had thought of it as a rival. But maybe it was more herself that was the rival.

‘I had near forgot,’ she said. She lifted a layer of folded linen from the bottom of the basket, and took the book out. ‘Ye’ll no can read muckle in this licht, but mebbe ye ken it weill enough onywey.’

She held it out and he reached for it. Joshua Redivivus. Mr Rutherford’s damned and burnable letters.

He looked at it in amazement, pulled it into his chest. ‘Ah, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘Lizzie, my dear love, ye could hae done nae better thing than this.’

He began to greet. She saw him there, head bowed, alone, clutching

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.