The pleading voice was not in vain. After much anxious consideration the Rev. Cooper Smith resolved to use his efforts to get the aid of a Scripture-reader for Tor Bay, and other outlying districts of his vast parish. The munificence of an elderly lady enabled him to bring his arrangements to a successful issue more rapidly than he had hoped. He was also fortunate in obtaining a fit and proper person for the post. Robert Hendrick was by birth and education an Ulster man; but having been for several years employed in the south-west, he had acquired something of that geniality, tact, and courtesy which is, perhaps, deficient in the hard Scotch character of the Northerns. There was nothing of professional piety or of the professional reader about Hendrick. A bright, active, smiling little man, he was soon a favourite in Tor Glen. His visits were made twice a-week, and the inhabitants soon found him a useful and obliging friend. He executed small commissions, carried letters from Ballycastle, and acted generally as a medium of communication with the outer world. But while thus wisely winning his way by kindly offices, he was not unmindful of that other world which it was his duty to bring before the minds of the people of the secluded vale. One evening of the week a homely service, half Bible-class, half prayer-meeting, was held, to which a considerable number of the Presbyterians, and even a few Roman Catholics, dropped in. The other evening was devoted to teaching the few little ones who could be gathered together. Elsie and Jim were among the earliest pupils; Jim was actuated by an almost morbid craving for knowledge, and for Elsie anything novel had sufficient attraction. Mrs. McAravey, notwithstanding her self-righteous indignation when questioned by the clergyman, had in her heart a belief that religious instruction was the proper thing for children. She remembered the stern discipline of her own early years not, indeed, with any pleasure, but with a firm conviction that severe spiritual as well as physical labour was good for the young. That “Auld Mike” permitted the children to attend the reader’s class was a matter of surprise to many, and that Hendrick had been able to capture them added not a little to his reputation. McAravey had, however, been pleased with the frank, obliging address of the reader; and perhaps, too, there was some softer feeling in his hard, silent nature than folks gave him credit for. Anyhow he made no opposition; and though he did not fail to notice their absence every Friday evening, he “asked no questions for conscience sake” or rather he rested satisfied with the result of his first inquiry.

“Where’s the wains, ’Lisbeth, I wonder?”

“How should I know?” was the somewhat Jesuitical reply. “Maybe they ’re gone to the town end; but they ’ll be right enough, you may be sure.” And there the matter dropped for many a day.

Meanwhile school-work went on. The precocious Jim made amazing progress in reading and writing arts from which Elsie’s impatient nature revolted. This distaste was, however, counterbalanced by the girl’s quickness in other respects. By dint of memory, and an excellent ear, she soon had at her finger ends whole passages of Scripture, together with a number of psalms and hymns, from one to the other of which she ran with a vivacity and heedlessness, that often pained her teacher. She was soon the leader of the little choir, and could sing, with wonderful correctness, “Shall we gather at the river?” “I think when I read that sweet story of old, How when Jesus was here among men.” “As pants the hart for cooling streams,” &c.

Robert Hendrick was deeply interested in his little pupils. Jim seemed likely to grow up a pattern boy. Punctual and diligent, with grave, attentive eyes and quiet demeanour, he could not but elicit the approval of his teacher. Yet Hendrick could not conceal from himself that Elsie was his favourite Elsie, so reckless and so irreverent, so headstrong, and at times even violent. He used to tremble for the child’s future, as, attracted by the sweet, true ring of her voice, he saw the eager, merry eyes wandering all round the room, while the lips were singing the most sacred words. Those awful and profound truths, that were to him the only realities, and which animated his every effort, were apparently to this sweet young singer but as fairy tales, or even as mere empty words on which to build up the fabric of her song; and at times he even doubted whether it was right to lay bare the mysterious agonies of redeeming love to such a careless eye, and to familiarise such a child with scenes so awful, but which seemed to wake no note of love or reverence. Yet Robert Hendrick loved and prayed for the child, content to work on for her, as for so many others in the glen, in simple faith and loving hope.

With the approach of winter the Friday evening class had to be discontinued. Most of the children lived at a considerable distance from the place of meeting; nor was a walk across the moors always feasible in rough weather. Even for a time the Wednesday service had to be suspended; so that for a couple of months the glen relapsed into its former state of spiritual night. Not altogether, however. The good seed cast upon the waters had found a resting-place in several hearts; and the opening of spring, and with it the resumption of the Scripture-reader’s visits, were eagerly looked forward to by many, both young and old.