Read Treasure of the Celtic Triangle Online
Authors: Michael Phillips
Treasure of the Celtic Triangle (30 page)
Leaving the address of his parents with Father Halliday, he returned to Dublin, from where he set sail for Glasgow. Perhaps it was time to make plans for law school.
When he arrived home, Percy had a long talk with his mother and father. Then followed prayer between the three about Percy’s future and especially about Florilyn.
“As you are weighing your options,” said Edward as the evening drew to a close, “I have something I think you might like to read. Whether it will help focus your thoughts and prayers, I cannot say. But it is truly one of the most remarkable expositions of Scripture I have ever read. It has had a profound impact on me.”
“Don’t tell me,” laughed Percy, “a new book by George MacDonald.”
Edward joined him in laughter. “A good guess. But I’m afraid not. My friends at Henry King publishers, however, tell me that one of his best novels yet is in the works but won’t be out for a couple of years.”
“What’s it about?”
“A fisherman,” they say. “It’s set in a fishing village up in your neck of the woods northwest of Aberdeen.” “Where’s that?” asked Percy.
“Cullen.”
“I’ve heard of it. One of my classmates was from there. As I recall also, some of the students went up there on holiday. So MacDonald’s next novel takes place there?”
“The next one they will be publishing. MacDonald was there a year ago researching for it. But then a lecture tour in America set the schedule back. Apparently the MacDonalds are planning another visit to Cullen next month. In any event, it sounds like something to look forward to.”
“But that’s not what you were telling me about?”
“No. Actually I was referring to the manuscript young cousin Henry gave me to look at when he and his father came to Aberdeen for your graduation. I know he’s a young man, but it is truly remarkable. I believe our cousin may have quite a future ahead of him. He may become the most famous Drummond of all.”
“Then I would definitely like to read it,” said Percy. “Have you spoken with him about it? Didn’t he ask for your thoughts?”
“I wrote him a letter of lavish praise for his insights,” replied Edward. “I told him it was the greatest thing in the world I have ever read on First Corinthians 13. I said he ought to publish it.”
“What did Henry say?”
“He was flattered and appreciative. He said his father had also encouraged him to have it published but that he was not completely satisfied with it yet. He liked my phrase though. He said, if I had no objection, he might use that for the title.”
“What phrase?”
“The greatest thing in the world. It is an exposition of love, as set forth by Paul in First Corinthians 13. What could be a greater thing in the world than love?”
“I will definitely look forward to reading it. Have you heard more about his hope to be involved with the Moody mission?”
“As far as I know he is still planning to join as a student volunteer.”
“Now that I am more or less at loose ends,” mused Percy, “perhaps I should join him after all.”
Later in his room, it was not his cousin Henry Drummond’s treatise on 1 Corinthians 13 that first drew Percy’s attention, however, but rather the beginning of a long overdue letter to his aunt. Somehow he had to try to explain himself and, to the degree he was able, put the matter to rest in both his mind and hers. He would have to walk a tightrope to do so. Now that he had told his father a little more, he would let him read his words first, to avoid saying either too much or too little.
He set aside the manuscript of his cousin’s that his father had given him and took out a fresh sheet of writing paper and pen.
Dear Aunt Katherine
, he began.
My greetings both to you and Florilyn and everyone at Westbrooke Manor. I am back in Glasgow with my parents. I felt I needed to see them and talk some things over with my father. I have just arrived
.
I know I left Wales hastily, and I apologize for that, also for not being able to explain more about my sudden departure and subsequent silence. I hope that you will understand my reasons for leaving abruptly when I tell you that the request Uncle Roderick made of me involved more than merely sorting through the papers and files in his study. There were certain delicate matters on his mind that he had too long neglected and which he felt might be of consequence to Courtenay, and indeed his entire family, concerning his legacy and the inheritance of his title and the estate should they come out
.
I don’t know how much of his life before your marriage you are familiar with, no doubt far more than me. You surely know that he spent time in Ireland during the latter years of his youth. He told me few details other than that while there he had been consumed by the lust for gold in that region of Ireland, which had experienced a gold rush in the early years of the century. During that time, he said, there were several associations with certain individuals he had not seen since and with whom he had lost touch. He asked me to see if I could locate among his papers any connections to those persons by which—
Percy paused, struggling desperately to find the right words. His position would be much easier had he never said a word to his aunt about his promise to his uncle. But it had come out, and now he must make the best of it.
He read over what he had just written then continued.
He asked me to see if I could locate among his papers any connections to those persons by which … they could be located, or that would give me reason to believe that they might one day jeopardize his or Courtenay’s position as viscount, or make demands upon Courtenay that he would be unable to accede to
.
I realize my words are dreadfully vague. I am sorry again. It was vague to me also when Uncle Roderick spoke to me of these things. He asked me specifically not to burden you with it if nothing came of it. Simply know that all his thoughts as he spoke to me were of you and the family he loved so dearly. He wanted no hurt or anxiety to come to any of you. He asked me to take care of this last request specifically for that reason, so that you would not be unnecessarily burdened with it
.
Having found among his papers what I thought might lead me to the individuals involved, I went to Ireland to attempt to carry out this final request. However, all my attempts were unsuccessful. I discovered nothing untoward. Actually, I discovered nothing at all. There is no record that I was able to find of anyone who knew Uncle Roderick when he was there. I believe I can safely say that no associations or obligations from the past need be of concern to yourself or to Courtenay
.
If there is anything that I can do for you, I hope you will not hesitate to call on me
.
Percy paused, then added:
Please give my loving best to Florilyn. Tell her I will write soon. All the best, and with deep affection
,
Percy
He set down the pen and exhaled deeply, then undressed, blew out his candle, and fell sleepily onto his bed.
The following morning Percy found his father in his office preparing to leave for his office at the church. “Dad,” said Percy, “I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything, Percy.”
“I wrote a letter to Aunt Katherine last night after I talked with you and Mom. Would you read it and tell me what you think?”
“Sure … absolutely.”
“I need to know if you think I have said too much or too little, or have been too ambiguous or not ambiguous enough. I know you don’t know what Uncle Roderick asked me to do any more than Aunt Katherine does. But I need to know what you think she will think. She is your sister. No one would know better than you.” He handed his father the paper.
Edward read it slowly then set the letter aside.
“Knowing Roderick as I did,” he began after a moment, “I would conclude from this that he was involved in something perhaps not altogether aboveboard—a scheme perhaps, probably with wealth at the bottom of it, that did not turn out as he had hoped. What that would possibly have to do with Courtenay’s inheritance, I have no idea. Perhaps Roderick still had debts from years before, and he was afraid of it coming back to haunt Courtenay. Perhaps he pledged Westbrooke Manor against the scheme. He was always a schemer. This rings true to what I knew of him. I could see any of a number of options. He might have bought into an old gold mine, for all I know. When he and Katherine first became involved, he was veiled about his past. We knew he had been in Ireland, but nothing more. Financial trouble would certainly explain it.”
Percy nodded as he listened. He was both satisfied and dissatisfied with his father’s answer. How could he know if he was doing the right thing, leading his aunt to believe, as his father had, something that
wasn’t
true? It was either that or say nothing at all. He must
somehow
account for his actions. If only he had said nothing about his pledge to his uncle.
F
ORTY
-N
INE
Subtle Innuendos
T
hat same afternoon Percy sat down to write an equally difficult letter to his cousin.
Dear Florilyn
, he began.
As I am sure your mother has told you, I am back in Glasgow with my parents after a generally uneventful time in Ireland
.
I realize that the future is unsettled for us both. If my handling of my own uncertainties has contributed to your anxieties, I sincerely apologize. My focus was so entirely occupied last term with completion of my studies. Then our plans were turned upside down by the MacDonald novel we read and what you felt we were to do in consequence. As time went on, my promise to your father weighed more and more heavily upon me
.
With all that at last behind me, I feel as if I am breathing a great sigh of relief!
He set aside the pen for a moment and drew in a breath. Ever since his father’s mention the previous evening of his cousin Henry, an idea had been floating about in his subconscious. As he wrote, it began to take more definite form.
Naturally
, Percy resumed,
my thoughts turn often to you and to the predicament, it might be called, of our situation. We were both agreed, as I am certain we still are, that what we want above all is God’s will. We want to do what He wants us to do. I continue to ask Him to reveal that will. I know you are praying that prayer with me. It is hard at times, as I know it must be for you, that our plans remain nebulous. But I am confident that God will show us what we are to do in His time. We will both be stronger for it. As I think I once told you, my father says that God is never in a hurry. That is a difficult lesson for we who are young, but I realize the wisdom of such a truth
.
As we continue waiting for Him to reveal His will, and as I contemplate my own future and the possibility of law school, an exciting idea has come to me. I am certain you have heard of the American evangelist D. L. Moody. The newspapers are full of him and news of so many giving their lives to the Lord as a result of his powerful preaching. He is scheduling his first mission to Scotland in a few months. As one of Glasgow’s leading ministers, my father will be involved to the extent he is able. In all his missions, Rev. Moody calls upon local Christian volunteers, many of them students, to help in his missions—with crowd control, organization, ushering, counseling, and distribution of literature and material, follow-up, and so on. If I decide to apply to law school, it will be a year or more before I would begin
.
Therefore, I am seriously considering joining my cousin Henry, who shares my family name of Drummond, in becoming a volunteer for the Scotland Moody mission. He is about our age, and I know you would like him. They need women volunteers as well as men. It has occurred to me that it would provide a good opportunity for you and me to grow together in our spiritual lives, while participating in a worthy endeavor for the kingdom of God. By working side by side in such an environment, we would strengthen our spiritual bonds and perhaps be in a stronger position to discern His will for our future together
.
As I went to the home of my aunt and uncle at a time of uncertainty in my life, what would you think of coming to Glasgow, where you would be welcome with my parents for as long as you liked, and joining me in working in the Moody mission? I think it would be …
Florilyn set the letter aside without reading further. She had read the whole thing once. But now on her second time through, she had had enough.
The day was a warm one. She had come outside to read the letter on one of the garden benches. She glanced up from where she sat to see Colville Burrenchobay riding up the drive. She had been expecting him.
He dismounted, tied his mount, and walked forward and sat down beside her. “A serious expression,” he said, glancing at the handwritten sheets in her hand. “Bad news?”
“No,” answered Florilyn with a light laugh. Her tone carried a hint of lingering annoyance from what she had been reading. “Just a letter from Percy.”
“Ah, right … your Scottish cousin. So how goes the engagement?” probed Colville.
“It’s off. You knew that. Why else would I be seeing you?”
“I thought … his writing you a letter … that perhaps the two of you had kissed and made up.”
Something resembling a snort sounded from Florilyn’s lips. “Hardly,” she said without trying to hide her sarcasm. “I don’t think Percy is interested in making up.” She handed Colville the letter then rose and walked about the garden to work off her agitation.
Colville could hardly believe his good fortune. He had been subtly trying for weeks to learn how things stood between Florilyn and her erstwhile fiancé in order to more shrewdly plan his own strategy. All at once a letter from the young Scot had unexpectedly fallen into his lap. He read in haste lest she change her mind about wanting him to see it. “Sounds like a bit of a religious fanatic, what?” said Colville after two or three minutes, tentatively feeling which way the wind of Florilyn’s reaction might be blowing.