Intrigued, Sandy continued to study the girl, unable to fathom the reason for Robert’s unease

Duncan Mcallan gripped the sides of the lectern and spoke in strong, clear tones. “Let us hear the Word of God as it is contained in Mark’s Gospel where, at chapter four, we find the parable of the sower.”

As he recited the words which he knew almost by heart, Duncan studied the seated worshippers. Most were weel-kent faces, but there was a goodly number of new faces, too.

Many, he knew, were there out of curiosity, to hear Kirsty and Alison. The girls’ fame had spread by means of the Edinburgh grapevine and they had been called upon to perform at other society gatherings.

While he could therefore account for some of the strangers, Duncan was astonished to see six men, five in scarlet uniforms, who had taken seats in the back row. He’d seen Ellie Chalmers flush as they made their entry. One of the men looked familiar: wasn’t he the one with whom Alison had been friendly?

Puzzled, Duncan drew his thoughts back to the present. “May God bless this reading of his Word,” he intoned, closing the Bible and clasping his hands together.

Ellie’s mind was racing. What had brought Captain Marshall and his men to the Mission? Most of the garrison’s soldiers were English and more used to bishops than to Duncan Mcallan’s form of Protestant worship. And what would Alison have said to see her Sandy in such company?

No doubt

Malcolm Porteous had no doubt as to why the soldiers had appeared. Sandy Mccrae was showing his true colours at last! While ostensibly courting Alison, he had been spying on the Mission and thus could not have failed to spot the bogus worshippers.

Yet Sandy could not have chosen a worse night to come for, by Malcolm’s reckoning, none of them had appeared this evening. Even so, he felt a growing sense of foreboding. “I’m sorry to say that Miss Porteous is indisposed and unable to play for us this evening.”

At these words Sandy Mccrae sat upright in his seat. His attention had been wandering until the preacher mentioned Alison. What did the old man mean by “indisposed”?

The preacher added that she would be absent for some time. Curbing his curiosity, Sandy contented himself by enjoying Kirsty’s beauty and gentle voice as she sang.

He noticed Robert watching the girl with full attention. His first instinct was to suppose the captain’s interest was romantic, but instead he saw Robert’s face register a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

Intrigued, Sandy continued to study the girl, unable to fathom the reason for Robert’s unease. When Kirsty finished singing and crossed the floor to resume her seat, her face was briefly caught in the last rays of sunlight filtering through the small windows.

Sandy’s attention was drawn to her eyes. Suddenly he suspected what Robert Marshall’s thoughts might be.

Ewan Ogilvie sat in the Mission’s eating area, waiting for the service to end. When he’d entered the building earlier he’d been gratified to see Dr Turner departing.

Less gratifying had been the sight of the group of soldiers inside as he’d passed the hall door. That didn’t worry him. The warning lamp Porteous had displayed had done the trick. Still, with soldiers around anything might happen.

“My, that was a big sigh, Ewan.”

He looked up at Ellie’s twinkling eyes. “I’m sorry, lass,” he replied. “I was deep in thought – I never heard you come in.”

Wistful

“The service is nearly over,” Ellie said. “Kirsty and I have to get supper ready.” Even as she spoke the door opened and the worshippers began making for their favourite tables. “It looks like being a busy night.”

She hurried to where Kirsty stood, ladle in hand, ready to dish out the meaty broth.

Ewan watched as the soldiers appeared at the doorway, their eyes searching the room, then made for a small corner table where they settled down uneasily.

Gently easing a hand into his pocket, Ewan touched the shaft of his knife and patted it contentedly.

One of the soldiers strolled over to the serving counter and spoke to Kirsty. The girl nodded and began filling a stack of empty soup bowls. Carefully the soldier carried them, two at a time, to the table where his companions sat.

“Spoons and bread, gentlemen.” Ellie laid the utensils and a small basket of bread on the table top.

“Thank you.” Robert Marshall winked at her. “How are you, Miss Chalmers? We miss you at the castle.”

He sounded genuinely wistful. “I’m sure.” Ellie tossed her head scornfully. “Tell me, are the vaults still full of rats?”

Robert flushed. “You deserved to be punished.”

“Did I now? Goodness, then the rumour I heard later wasn’t true?” She glowered at the young captain. “That your fine quartermaster was court-martialed for, what was it? Misappropriation of funds? Got 20 lashes, too, I hear,” she added.

“You’re remarkably well informed,” Robert said coldly. “However, you were right. The man was buying cheap provisions and pocketing the change.”

He knew he should apologise to the girl; indeed, he should have apologised long ago when the quartermaster’s guilt was discovered, but he had, as usual, been too proud.

Now he was losing face again in front of his men. Masking his aggravation, Robert forced himself to look amicable.

“Just as you said, Miss Chalmers,” he conceded, “and for doubting you I must apologise.”

Ellie was enjoying the young man’s discomfort. “I can accept the apology, Captain, but that doesn’t recompense me for the cold night in your vaults.”

Unfortunate

Gritting his teeth, Robert recalled being floored by the parson who’d threatened him for mistreating the girl. Recompense, indeed! His stomach had ached for days. “Would that I could make up for that unfortunate incident. But how?” He shrugged.

“I want nothing from you, Captain,” she said, her chin lifting proudly. “But my friends here would be grateful for some of the provisions you’re hoarding up at the castle in case the big bad rebels cut ye off.”

“Provisions for here?” He gaped at her. “Aye. The Mcallans do a good job for the poor and needy. A cartload of food would ease their task. If you dislike the idea of helping them just think of it as helping the good Lord instead!”

Some of the soldiers sniggered. Ellie waited expectantly and, at last, Robert inclined his head.

“So be it, Miss Chalmers. I will arrange for a wagon to bring some supplies within the next few days.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She leaned forward and patted his cheek. “Enjoy your soup,” she said, flouncing off. Robert scowled at the others, daring them to laugh. Darned woman, he thought, how does she always get the better of me?

More tomorrow.

Glens of Stone was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.30 from newsagents and supermarkets.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon