The Redemption of Alexander Seaton by S.G. MacLean Page A

minister, and as soon as we have some better knowledge of their true import, they will be delivered to the sheriff. On this you have my word.’
    The minister was still not satisfied. ‘I am not assured that this secret can be kept. I would call into question, for instance, the presence in this room of Mr Alexander Seaton. Neither by position nor repute is it fitting that he should be one of our number and privy to this knowledge.’
    To my surprise, Baillie Buchan spoke in my defence.
    ‘Mr Seaton is here as one who has particular knowledge of the matter before us. You will be aware, I am sure, of the great friendship that existed from boyhood between him and the Master of Hay?’ The minister was bursting to interrupt, but Buchan would not permit it. ‘Sir Archibald Hay died in the cause of our faith and the defence of our Church against the idolatrous forces of the Empire. In the course of that service, as you will recall from the funeral oration given by the Earl Marischal, he became expert in the drawing andusing of maps. Also in the course of that service, he wrote many letters from the lands of Germany and the Low Countries to his childhood friend, Mr Seaton.’ He looked towards me as if awaiting some protestation. ‘It is known, Mr Seaton. Few letters enter this town without my knowledge. What I know of their contents depends upon the gravity of the times. I believe it likely that Sir Archibald would have revealed to you at least some of his new knowledge and his practice of it.’ I knew, as did everyone, what were the centres of power in our community, and yet I had not understood until that moment the true extent of Buchan’s control of knowledge in the town, and would never have foreseen his frankness on the matter. There was little point in protesting a desire for privacy or outrage that it had been infringed; such protestation would be taken as little less than an admission of complicity in some act of treachery or private vice. I simply agreed that he was correct in his belief, and that Archie had written to me a good deal on his new passion for the cartographer’s art. Buchan nodded, satisfied. ‘I thought as much. And it is fortunate indeed that he did, for I could think of no other in the town who would have been able to advise us with any sure knowledge of the matter.’
    This was not enough for Mr Guild. ‘To cite Mr Seaton’s old friendship with the Master of Hay in his support – it is known throughout the country that the laird will no longer have him in the house, that he it was who barred Mr Seaton’s way to the ministry – is beyond endurance.’ The minister could scarcely contain his impotent outrage. ‘You should have consulted a higher authority before taking such a step.’
    ‘He did,’ interrupted the provost. ‘Mr Seaton’s position inthe burgh may well be lowly, but he is acknowledged a man of great learning and I know of no other in this town with any understanding of maps. As for his repute – I know little and care less for your tittle-tattle, but I know there has never yet been any suggestion of heresy or collusion with the forces of idolatry in his carriage, public or private.’
    ‘But his mother, the Irishwoman—’
    ‘Is dead,’ I said. ‘My mother is long dead.’
    The minister thus chastened said no more of my unfitness for this trust, but simmered silently at the double-edged affront to his dignity and his person.
    It had been many months since any save my closest friends in the burgh had treated me with anything other than either wary suspicion or open contempt. There were those of course like the Dawson sisters, the shore porters, the journeymen labourers – those on the margins of our community – who had been little impressed by my college learning and my progression towards the ministry and so were little shaken by my fall. Most of the rest found it expedient to avoid me now. All save my closest friends. I had never cared to claim friendship of casual