Of all the familiar places Robbie had touched since leaving China a month and a half ago on the steamer Prince of Wales, Aberdeen struck by far the richest memories.
Here was the home he had always returned to in his travels. Here was the port he had dreamed of sailing into during his lonely moments in China. Therefore, it was only fitting that the docks of the mouth of the River Dee should offer his feet their first steps onto Scottish soil after this, his longest sojourn away from the land of his birth.
Robbie was anxious to reach Aviemere. But he knew he must delay this last leg of his journey a day or two more so he could renew some very special old acquaintances. Taking Ruth with him, while Shan-fei remained behind to rest in the hotel, Robbie struck out up Union Street. They would walk past the train station, then turn down Market Street and to the dock area where they had landed yesterday. As they left the hotel Robbie could not help but think of his mother-in-law remaining behind in her room. He was still sorry to have wrenched her from her home. To be torn from her country amid her grief over the loss of her husband had been heart-rending indeed, and the inward pain revealed itself on her gracefully aging face. Yet she trusted Robbie’s judgment, and wanted only to accompany her son-in-law and granddaughter, whom she loved more than any nation.
As Robbie glanced at Ruth walking at his side, he was reminded again how strange this must be to the two of them. Her eyes were wide with awe, and her tiny hand clutched tightly at his arm. This might be home to Robbie, but to Ruth everything that greeted her eyes was foreign; though half the blood that pulsed through her veins was Scottish, she was truly a foreigner in a strange land. Robbie had not fully considered this aspect of their move until now when he noted the curious glances from passers-by at the peculiar pair—Robbie in his brown broadcloth suit, Ruth dressed in Oriental style with a long linen skirt and jacket embroidered by Shan-fei for their travels. On the ship, even Shan-fei had not been an oddity in her customary, full-length Chinese dress, for world travelers on such an international vessel were well-accustomed to such things. But walking down the plank into Aberdeen instantly changed all that. Suddenly they were the object of every eye on the street.
“Ruth, look . . . over there,” he said, pointing to their left. “There are the shipyards again. Let’s see what they’re about today.”
They had spent the morning visiting the Gilchrists in Aberdeen’s west side, and were now walking along the Inches toward their next destination. It was a clear summer afternoon, but a fog hung on the horizon and would reach the Aberdeen coastline with its thick moisture by the following morning. There’s nothing like an early-dawn Aberdeen fog, thought Robbie. And if he had smelled salty, pungent sea air in dozens of other ports, none contained quite the pleasant satisfaction of what surrounded them just now.
“Where are we going, Papa?” asked Ruth, becoming infused with her father’s excitement.
“A place I haven’t been to in twelve years!” answered Robbie with mounting anticipation.
The Golden Doubloon hadn’t changed much, except for perhaps being a bit more worn about the edges. The same sign, displaying the same treasure chest, stood above the door. Though he no longer recognized the faces of the men walking along the street, they were the same sailing types as always kept to this part of town, just as he once had.
Robbie paused before entering. Suddenly his mind was acutely conscious of all the changes that had been wrought within himself in the time since he had last been here. Back then he had been a jolly, carefree boy.
Now he was a man. His eyes still shone with merriment, and the mission staff—including Wallace himself—had come to count on his ready laughter to brighten any situation. But there was a solemnity about him now too, a depth to his character that simply could not have existed in the old Robbie Taggart. There was more to him now that went far beyond the physical manifestations of change—a lost hand, graying temples, a lovely half-Chinese daughter. He was, in truth, a new man. In a very real sense, he was complete now, fully the man intended by his Maker.
Robbie opened the door and stepped across the threshold. Ruth retreated behind him, content for now to let her brave father take the initiative in this newest of adventures.
There were few customers in the tavern at this time of day, but Robbie scarcely took note of the few who were present. For he immediately saw what he had come to see. Behind the rough old counter stood Sadie Malone, making preparations for the evening’s business.
Unnoticed, Robbie watched her a moment in silence. The years told on her. The ample, once voluptuous figure was now considerably thickened. Her hair was grayer, and the lines about her eyes and mouth were deeper set. Yet Robbie sensed immediately a contentment about his old friend, as if she had at last accepted her calling as a dockside innkeeper. He recalled, though he had not been as aware of it back then as he should have been, that she had always talked about selling the inn someday and making a respectable living.
He had the chance to scrutinize her only for a moment before her watchful countenance looked up from her work. Her face paled and her mouth fell open, as she obviously struggled with her senses at sight of this ghost from her distant past. A moment more, however, and she colored and grinned, bustling out from behind the counter. Robbie reached her in two strides, threw his arms around her, lifted her off her feet, and whirled her around in the air.
“Sadie, my darlin’!” he said, laughing.
“I thought for a minute you was a figment of my imagination!” she exclaimed as he set her on her feet.
“I’m real enough, dear Sadie.”
“Well, you haven’t changed a hair!” She stepped back to appraise him, then her eyes fell on his missing hand. She gasped audibly.
“Don’t give it a thought, Sadie. I’ve never been better. I hardly miss it now.” Then he added, “I’ve so much to tell you!”
But even as he spoke, Sadie’s eyes next noted his little companion. “Look at this, will ye!” she said. “Here you are with another waif in tow.” She would not easily forget the day he had brought the grubby shepherdess Jamie MacLeod into her place.
“This is no waif, Sadie.” He took Ruth’s hand and brought her out into full view from behind him. “This is my daughter, Ruth,” he said proudly.
Sadie clapped her hands to her face. “Oh, Robbie,” she said, “I ain’t never seen a lovelier little thing. ’Course, I should have known she’d be yours. And do I get the honor of making the acquaintance of Mrs. Taggart, too?”
“I’m afraid not,” Robbie replied, a momentary cloud passing over his face. “She died shortly after Ruth was born.”
“Robbie, I’m sorry.”
Sadie took Ruth’s hands tenderly into her rough, workworn ones. “She must have been a special woman—I can see it in the girl. And I know you’d have no less.”
Now that the initial greetings were past, the innkeeper in Sadie surfaced and she added, “Let me fix you some tea and a bite to eat. You will bide a wee, won’t you, Robbie? I want to hear everything!”
“We have the rest of the day,” answered Robbie. “We must be back this evening. We’re in a hotel up on Union. Ruth’s grandmother is there now.”
Sadie scurried off to the kitchen to make preparations for her guests. Robbie turned to find a seat, but the moment his eyes fell across the nearly deserted room, he stopped short. Now it was his turn to stare in disbelief at the apparition before him.
There sat Elliot Drew at one of Sadie’s tables, a half-empty glass of ale in one hand, his chin resting philosophically on his other as he observed the scene. Robbie’s stunned expression seemed to amuse him. At least the cynical side of him had anticipated such a response. With a wink and a nod, he lifted his glass toward Robbie in salute. The smile he let play upon his lips as he watched Robbie’s continued bewilderment showed a genuine warmth, and at length broke the spell. Robbie, still limping on his injured leg, moved toward his table and held out his hand.
“Old friend!” he said, not without a good deal of emotion. A flood of memories, and feelings of both joy and sorrow, tumbled through Robbie’s consciousness in the second it took Drew to respond. For it was clear that, despite his many prayers for the man over the years, there had been little change in him since their separation.
“I wasn’t certain I’d still be greeted as such,” replied the Vicar. “But perhaps time dulls the memory.”
“Time has nothing to do with it, Elliot. Now, return my handshake and let my daughter and me sit down with you.”
A moment more the Vicar paused. Then he rose and said, “Robbie . . . Robbie, you haven’t changed!” With tears standing in his sad, worn eyes, he moved around his table and went to Robbie with outstretched hand.
As their hands met, however, both men opened their arms in a poignant embrace. Their friendship had lasted but a few short months, yet the bonds that had formed made them now seem like brothers. Even as they stood back from one another, however, Robbie longed more than ever for a true spiritual brotherhood with his sad and lonely friend. For now that Robbie himself understood what a relationship with God meant, he saw more clearly what Elliot had left behind when he turned his back on the church and his spiritual calling.
“But, Elliot,” said Robbie as they sat down, “how do you come to be here? Of all the places in Aberdeen—of all the places in the world! How could I run into you like this?”
“Isn’t Aberdeen as good a port as any to sail from?”
“Why, yes . . . but—here, in Sadie’s!”
“I heard you talk about the place a few times. I suppose when I left, something inside me wanted to keep touch with you. This place was the only link I had to my true friend, Robbie Taggart! You know me, Robbie. Ever motivated by sinister emotions like guilt and self-condemnation!”
“Oh, Elliot!” replied Robbie from his heart. “Are you still torturing yourself that way? It doesn’t have to be like that, you know.”
The Vicar did not reply for a moment. Then he nodded knowingly, and said, “They got to you, didn’t they?”
Robbie smiled in reply, fully understanding the meaning of his words even after so long.
“I could tell,” Drew added. “You’re a different man. You may be missing a hand, but that’s not where the difference is. You’re a whole man now. I could see it in you the moment you walked through that door.”
“Let me tell you about it,” said Robbie, picking up Ruth and placing her on his lap.
“I don’t think I want to hear about that.”
“Are you afraid I might get to you?”
“I’m too far gone, Robbie.”
“I saved your life once Elliot,” said Robbie. “I think you at least owe me a polite audience for my story. I know you think you’ve heard all about God there is to hear. But I’m not so sure you’ve ever really heard the whole story. I think all you’ve heard before in your life are the misrepresented notions of people who don’t really know Him at all.”
The Vicar smiled. “I knew someday I’d have to pay for your good deed.”
He folded his arms, leaned back in his chair, and nodded for Robbie to have his say.
———
When Elliot Drew left The Golden Doubloon that evening, he had heard things about God and about the man Jesus that he had never heard before. This was no gospel he had heard preached or had preached himself. The line from the Acts of the Apostles worked several times through his mind, “Almost persuaded . . .”
How he longed for the peace Robbie had described to him, that inexplicable joy he so clearly saw emanating from Robbie himself! But because his rejection of the good news of God’s constant presence with man had been, so many years ago, a form of self-punishment, he could not now allow himself to believe that he deserved what Robbie had. God might be merciful to forgive him all his drinking, and his selfishness, his blasphemies, and all his cowardice, but the Vicar was not in a position to receive it, for he could not forgive himself. So as he walked away, not doubting the truth of the gift of God Robbie offered, but yet choosing to reject it, he quoted Lord Byron as he had on the first day they met aboard the Sea Tiger.
“‘Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal,’” he said. “Goodbye, dear friend.”
“I didn’t give up on you before, Elliot,” answered Robbie, “and I won’t now. I will pray for you vigilantly! We will meet again, and I believe it will be as brothers in Christ.”
The Vicar sighed, then walked out into the drizzly night. The fog had reached the shore and had settled over the city. He was on his way to meet his ship, bound for Venezuela. As he made his way along the street, something inside compelled him to turn back, to give Robbie’s new way of life a try. But he could not do it. He doubted that he would ever see Robbie Taggart again, but he’d never be able to forget him, nor the words he had spoken to him this day. Yet to embrace them—that was just too frightening a step to take.
Robbie watched him go, and soon his friend was swallowed up in the mists. A lingering sadness hung over him. Yet he could not feel despair for his friend. Robbie knew God was jealous for the lost soul of the Vicar, loved him more than he could himself, and would spare no effort to reveal to him the life of blessing and fulfillment awaiting him.
The day had been a long one for Ruth, who dozed against her father’s chest as he had poured out his heart to the Vicar. Now he took her back to the hotel, ordered dinner for her and Shan-fei, then returned to The Golden Doubloon where he devoted the remainder of the evening to Sadie. She marveled at all Robbie had to tell her, and was even inspired to attend the little church in her neighborhood that Sunday.
It was late when he again walked up the hill toward Union Street. Shan-fei was asleep in the adjoining room, and Ruth slept contentedly on the couch in his. Robbie walked over and gazed at her peaceful face, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder and murmuring a brief prayer of thanksgiving for this greatest of all blessings.
He had certainly tired her out today, he thought! New sights, new places, new people. Well, she would be able to sleep all the next day on the train that would carry them to Aviemere.