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when you, the pathetic sheep of a barren pasture, wait hungry in the fold!”
    I laughed to meself that Reverend Sill, too, was in search of coins. “Doesn’t the law require that Lord Cummingsburgh sees your stipend is paid?”
    â€œAye!” His eyes narrowed. “And it has been two years now I’ve been owed! Even a man as mighty as Lord Cummingsburgh need be warned—for it is the vengeance of Heaven that will not be avoided as one prepares for his unchangeable state.”
    Then he stopped suddenly, as if recovering from a trance. “Tell me, lad, have you had anything to eat of late?”
    I hesitated, belly growling, me breeks hanging loosely at me hips, held up only by a piece of twine. “No, sir.”
    â€œThen you’ll join me in breaking your fast.”
    I watched in amazement as he reached inside his kishie and produced an oval bentwood box, from which he pulled a loaf ofbread and pouch of dried herring. “The good Mrs. Sill packed provisions for the journey, and you’ll do me a favor by lightening this load.”
    I stared, dumbfounded. With me Daa’s outspoken criticism of the Kirk and me Midder’s past transgression, surely we Robertsons were a disgrace in his eyes. And yet, so hungry was I that when he handed me a chunk of bread and piece of dried herring, no amount of pride could keep me from accepting them.
    Don’t gobble like the swine and sheep
, I told meself—me Midder’s words coming back to me, and thoughts of John, for a moment, disappearing. I didn’t think I could chew fast enough to get the food into the dark, empty parts of me body. But when I finished and looked over, Reverend Sill’s eyes were closed, face tilted to the morning sun, his hands clasped tightly in prayer. And his food lay untouched on a cloth before him.
    â€œMay the Good Lord cast a warm light on this journey,” he prayed, a wide smile pulling at the edges of his loose, wrinkled face. “For only He knows the limits of this tired, worn body, and the sacrifice I am willing to make to set things right.”
    Then he slowly leaned back against the rock, carefully chewing his bread and fish before taking a long swig from a small clay jug. “You’ll not be wanting any of this to quench your thirst, lad,” he said, grimacing as he swallowed. “There’s a spring just over there.”
    I knelt down to the trickle bubbling up from a stone and drank the cool, refreshing water. Then, seeing him packing theremaining food and jug back into the kishie, I dashed to the path before he could start another lecture. “Best wishes for a safe journey,” I called over me shoulder. “I thank you!”
    But I was only a few strides on me way when I heard a moan so deep and pitiful I was sure his heart had given way.
    Don’t look back! Keep moving
, I told meself, determined to not allow this one act of kindness to wipe away the memory of shame and humiliation in me Midder’s eyes. But as the reverend’s moans grew louder, it was me Gutcher’s face that came to me—how he struggled each day, so plagued with the rheumatism, that it took both me and Catherine to pull him out of bed.
    Don’t think about that!
I told meself.
You’ve no time to help. Remember what he did to Midder!
But when I stupidly glanced over me shoulder, the pathetic sight of such a frail man struggling to pull the kishie onto his back was more than I could bear.
    â€œWait, Reverend. I’ll carry it.” The words slipped out before I could bring meself to me senses.
    He looked up, stunned at first, eyeing me skeptically. “Thank ye, lad. But it’s beyond your ability, I’m afraid.”
    â€œI may be small, but me Gutcher tells me I’m the best in the family for carrying the peats.”
    But as I hoisted the kishie over me shoulders, I immediately regretted me boasting. How could bread, fish, and a jug of water