Angus had read and studied them all his life before he began to read
them with me, and we talked them over together sitting by the fire in
the library, fascinated and staring at each other, I in one high-backed
chair and he in another on the opposite side of the hearth. Angus is
wonderful--wonderful! He KNOWS there is no such thing as chance.
He KNOWS that we ourselves are the working of the Law--and that we
ourselves could work what now are stupidly called "miracles" if we could
only remember always what the Law is.
What I intended to say at first was merely that it was not by chance
that I climbed to the shelf in the library that afternoon and pushed
aside the books hiding the old manuscript which told the real story of
Dark Malcolm of the Glen and Wee Brown Elspeth. It seemed like chance
when it happened, but it was really the first step toward my finding out
the strange, beautiful thing I knew soon afterward.
From the beginning of my friendship with the MacNairns I had hoped they
would come and stay with me at Muircarrie. When they both seemed to
feel such interest in all I told them of it, and not to mind its wild
remoteness, I took courage and asked them if they would come to me. Most
people are bored by the prospect of life in a feudal castle, howsoever
picturesquely it is set in a place where there are no neighbors to count
on.
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