SENTIMENTAL TOMMY

 THE STORY OF HIS BOYHOOD

 BY J. M. BARRIE

 AUTHOR OF "THE LITTLE MINISTER, " "A WINDOW IN THRUMS, " ETC. 

 1896

SENTIMENTAL TOMMY

THE STORY OF HIS BOYHOOD

CHAPTER I

TOMMY CONTRIVES TO KEEP ONE OUT

The celebrated Tommy first comes into view on a dirty London stair, andhe was in sexless garments, which were all he had, and he was five, andso though we are looking at him, we must do it sideways, lest he sitdown hurriedly to hide them. That inscrutable face, which made theclubmen of his later days uneasy and even puzzled the ladies while hewas making love to them, was already his, except when he smiled at oneof his pretty thoughts or stopped at an open door to sniff a potful. Onhis way up and down the stair he often paused to sniff, but he neverasked for anything; his mother had warned him against it, and he carriedout her injunction with almost unnecessary spirit, declining offersbefore they were made, as when passing a room, whence came the smell offried fish, he might call in, "I don't not want none of your fish, " or"My mother says I don't not want the littlest bit, " or wistfully, "Iain't hungry, " or more wistfully still, "My mother says I ain'thungry. " His mother heard of this and was angry, crying that he had letthe neighbors know something she was anxious to conceal, but what he hadrevealed to them Tommy could not make out, and when he questioned herartlessly, she took him with sudden passion to her flat breast, andoften after that she looked at him long and woefully and wrung herhands. 

The only other pleasant smell known to Tommy was when the water-cartspassed the mouth of his little street. His street, which ended in a deadwall, was near the river, but on the doleful south side of it, openingoff a longer street where the cabs of Waterloo station sometimes foundthemselves when they took the wrong turning; his home was at the top ofa house of four floors, each with accommodation for at least twofamilies, and here he had lived with his mother since his father'sdeath six months ago. There was oil-cloth on the stair as far as thesecond floor; there had been oil-cloth between the second floor and thethird--Tommy could point out pieces of it still adhering to the wood likeremnants of a plaster. 

This stair was nursery to all the children whose homes opened on it, notso safe as nurseries in the part of London that is chiefly inhabited byboys in sailor suits, but preferable as a centre of adventure, and hereon an afternoon sat two. They were very busy boasting, but only thesmaller had imagination, and as he used it recklessly, their positionssoon changed; sexless garments was now prone on a step, breeches sittingon him. 

Shovel, a man of seven, had said, "None on your lip. You weren't neverat Thrums yourself. "

Tommy's reply was, "Ain't my mother a Thrums woman?"

Shovel, who had but one eye, and that bloodshot, fixed it on himthreateningly. 

"The Thames is in London, " he said. 

"'Cos they wouldn't not have it in Thrums, " replied Tommy. 

"'Amstead 'Eath's in London, I tell yer, " Shovel said. 

"The cemetery is in Thrums, " said Tommy. 

"There ain't no queens in Thrums, anyhow. "

"There's the auld licht minister. "

"Well, then, if you jest seed Trafalgar Square!"

"If you jest seed the Thrums town-house!"

"St. Paul's ain't in Thrums. "

"It would like to be. "

After reflecting, Shovel said in desperation, "Well, then, my fatherwere once at a hanging. "

Tommy replied instantly, "It were my father what was hanged. "

There was no possible answer to this save a knock-down blow, but thoughTommy was vanquished in body, his spirit remained stanch; he raised hishead and gasped, "You should see how they knock down in Thrums!" It wasthen that Shovel sat on him. 

Such was their position when an odd figure in that house, a gentleman, passed them without a word, so desirous was he to make a breath taken atthe foot of the close stair last him to the top. Tommy merely gapedafter this fine sight, but Shovel had experience, and "It's a kid or acoffin. " he said sharply, knowing that only birth or death brought adoctor here. 

Watching the doctor's ascent, the two boys strained their necks over therickety banisters, which had been polished black by trousers of thepast, and sometimes they lost him, and then they saw his legs again. 

"Hello, it's your old woman!" cried Shovel. "Is she a deader?" he asked, brightening, for funerals made a pleasant stir on the stair. 

The question had no meaning for bewildered Tommy, but he saw that if hismother was a deader, whatever that might be, he had grown great in hiscompanion's eye. So he hoped she was a deader. 

"If it's only a kid, " Shovel began, with such scorn that Tommy at oncescreamed, "It ain't!" and, cross-examined, he swore eagerly that hismother was in bed when he left her in the morning, that she was still inbed at dinner-time, also that the sheet was over her face, also that shewas cold. 

Then she was a deader and had attained distinction in the only waypossible in that street. Shovel did not shake Tommy's hand warmly, theforms of congratulation varying in different parts of London, but helooked his admiration so plainly that Tommy's head waggled proudly. Evidently, whatever his mother had done redounded to his glory as wellas to hers, and somehow he had become a boy of mark. He said from hiselevation that he hoped Shovel would believe his tales about Thrums now, and Shovel, who had often cuffed Tommy for sticking to him so closely, cringed in the most snobbish manner, craving permission to be seen inhis company for the next three days. Tommy, the upstart, did not see hisway to grant this favor for nothing, and Shovel offered a knife, but didnot have it with him; it was his sister Ameliar's knife, and he wouldtake it from her, help his davy. Tommy would wait there till Shovelfetched it. Shovel, baffled, wanted to know what Tommy was putting onhairs for. Tommy smiled, and asked whose mother was a deader. ThenShovel collapsed, and his wind passed into Tommy. 

The reign of Thomas Sandys, nevertheless, was among the shortest, forwith this question was he overthrown: "How did yer know she were cold?"

"Because, " replied Tommy, triumphantly, "she tell me herself. "

Shovel only looked at him, but one eye can be so much more terrible thantwo, that plop, plop, plop came the balloon softly down the steps of thethrone and at the foot shrank pitifully, as if with Ameliar's knife init. 

"It's only a kid arter all!" screamed Shovel, furiously. Disappointmentgave him eloquence, and Tommy cowered under his sneers, notunderstanding them, but they seemed to amount to this, that inhaving a baby he had disgraced the house. 

"But I think, " he said, with diffidence, "I think I were once one. "

Then all Shovel could say was that he had better keep it dark on thatstair. 

Tommy squeezed his fist into one eye, and the tears came out at theother. A good-natured impulse was about to make Shovel say that thoughkids are undoubtedly humiliations, mothers and boys get used to them intime, and go on as brazenly as before, but it was checked by Tommy'sunfortunate question, "Shovel, when will it come?"

Shovel, speaking from local experience, replied truthfully that theyusually came very soon after the doctor, and at times before him. 

"It ain't come before him, " Tommy said, confidently. 

"How do yer know?"

"'Cos it weren't there at dinner-time, and I been here sincedinner-time. "

The words meant that Tommy thought it could only enter by way of thestair, and Shovel quivered with delight. "H'st!" he cried, dramatically, and to his joy Tommy looked anxiously down the stair, instead of up it. 

"Did you hear it?" Tommy whispered. 

Before he could control himself Shovel blurted out: "Do you think asthey come on their feet?"

"How then?" demanded Tommy; but Shovel had exhausted his knowledge ofthe subject. Tommy, who had begun to descend to hold the door, turnedand climbed upwards, and his tears were now but the drop left in a cuptoo hurriedly dried. Where was he off to? Shovel called after him; andhe answered, in a determined whisper: "To shove of it out if it tries tocome in at the winder. "

This was enough for the more knowing urchin, now so full of good thingsthat with another added he must spill, and away he ran for an audience, which could also help him to bait Tommy, that being a game most sportivewhen there are several to fling at once. At the door he knocked over, and was done with, a laughing little girl who had strayed from a morefashionable street. She rose solemnly, and kissing her muff, to reassureit if it had got a fright, toddled in at the first open door to be outof the way of unmannerly boys. 

Tommy, climbing courageously, heard the door slam, and looking down hesaw--a strange child. He climbed no higher. It had come. 

After a long time he was one flight of stairs nearer it. It was makingitself at home on the bottom step; resting, doubtless, before it camehopping up. Another dozen steps, and--It was beautifully dressed in onepiece of yellow and brown that reached almost to its feet, with a bitleft at the top to form a hood, out of which its pert face peepedimpudently; oho, so they came in their Sunday clothes. He drew so nearthat he could hear it cooing: thought itself as good as upstairs, didit!

He bounced upon her sharply, thinking to carry all with a high hand. "Out you go!" he cried, with the action of one heaving coals. 

She whisked round, and, "Oo boy or oo girl?" she inquired, puzzled byhis dress. 

"None of your cheek!" roared insulted manhood. 

"Oo boy, " she said, decisively. 

With the effrontery of them when they are young, she made room for himon her step, but he declined the invitation, knowing that her design wasto skip up the stair the moment he was off his guard. 

"You don't needn't think as we'll have you, " he announced, firmly. "Youhad best go away to--go to--" His imagination failed him. "You had bestgo back, " he said. 

She did not budge, however, and his next attempt was craftier. "Mymother, " he assured her, "ain't living here now;" but mother was a newword to the girl, and she asked gleefully, "Oo have mother?" expectinghim to produce it from his pocket. To coax him to give her a sight of itshe said, plaintively, "Me no have mother. "

"You won't not get mine, " replied Tommy doggedly. 

She pretended not to understand what was troubling him, and it passedthrough his head that she had to wait there till the doctor came downfor her. He might come at any moment. 

A boy does not put his hand into his pocket until every other means ofgaining his end has failed, but to that extremity had Tommy now come. For months his only splendid possession had been a penny despised bytrade because of a large round hole in it, as if (to quote Shovel) someprevious owner had cut a farthing out of it. To tell the escapades ofthis penny (there are no adventurers like coin of the realm) would beone way of exhibiting Tommy to the curious, but it would be ahard-hearted way. At present the penny was doubly dear to him, havingbeen long lost and lately found. In a noble moment he had dropped itinto a charity box hanging forlorn against the wall of a shop, where itlay very lonely by itself, so that when Tommy was that way he could hearit respond if he shook the box, as acquaintances give each other thetime of day in passing. Thus at comparatively small outlay did he spreadhis benevolence over weeks and feel a glow therefrom, until the glowwent, when he and Shovel recaptured the penny with a thread and a bentpin. 

This treasure he sadly presented to the girl, and she accepted it withglee, putting it on her finger, as if it were a ring, but instead ofsaying that she would go now she asked him, coolly, "Oo know tories?"

"Stories!" he exclaimed, "I'll--I'll tell you about Thrums, " and wasabout to do it for love, but stopped in time. "This ain't a good stairfor stories, " he said, cunningly. "I can't not tell stories on thisstair, but I--I know a good stair for stories. "

The ninny of a girl was completely hoodwinked; and see, there they go, each with a hand in the muff, the one leering, oh, so triumphantly; theother trusting and gleeful. There was an exuberance of vitality abouther as if she lived too quickly in her gladness, which you may rememberin some child who visited the earth for but a little while. 

How superbly Tommy had done it! It had been another keen brain pittedagainst his, and at first he was not winning. Then up came Thrums, and--But the thing has happened before; in a word, Blücher. Nevertheless, Tommy just managed it, for he got the girl out of the street and on toanother stair no more than in time to escape a ragged rabble, headed byShovel, who, finding their quarry gone, turned on their leaderviciously, and had gloomy views of life till his cap was kicked down asewer, which made the world bright again. 

Of the tales told by Tommy that day in words Scotch and cockney, ofThrums, home of heroes and the arts, where the lamps are lit by amagician called Leerie-leerie-licht-the-lamps (but he is also friendly, and you can fling stones at him), and the merest children are allowedto set the spinning-wheels a-whirling, and dagont is the swear, and thestairs are so fine that the houses wear them outside for show, and youdrop a pail at the end of a rope down a hole, and sometimes it comes upfull of water, and sometimes full of fairies--of these and otherwonders, if you would know, ask not a dull historian, nor even go toThrums, but to those rather who have been boys and girls there and noware exiles. Such a one Tommy knows, an unhappy woman, foolish, not verylovable, flung like a stone out of the red quarry upon a land where itcannot grip, and tearing her heart for a sight of the home she shall seeno more. From her Tommy had his pictures, and he colored them rarely. 

Never before had he such a listener. "Oh, dagont, dagont!" he would cryin ecstasy over these fair scenes, and she, awed or gurgling with mirthaccording to the nature of the last, demanded "'Nother, 'nother!"whereat he remembered who and what she was, and showing her a morsel ofthe new one, drew her to more distant parts, until they were so far fromhis street that he thought she would never be able to find the way back. 

His intention had been, on reaching such a spot, to desert her promptly, but she gave him her hand in the muff so confidingly that against hisjudgment he fell a-pitying the trustful mite who was wandering theworld in search of a mother, and so easily diddled on the whole thatthe chances were against her finding one before morning. Almostunconsciously he began to look about him for a suitable one. 

They were now in a street much nearer to his own home than the spurtsfrom spot to spot had led him to suppose. It was new to him, but herecognized it as the acme of fashion by those two sure signs; railingswith most of their spikes in place, and cards scored with, the word"Apartments. " He had discovered such streets as this before when inShovel's company, and they had watched the toffs go out and in, and itwas a lordly sight, for first the toff waggled a rail that was loose atthe top and then a girl, called the servant, peeped at him from below, and then he pulled the rail again, and then the door opened from theinside, and you had a glimpse of wonder-land with a place for hanginghats on. He had not contemplated doing anything so handsome for the girlas this, but why should he not establish her here? There were manypossible mothers in view, and thrilling with a sense of his generosityhe had almost fixed on one but mistrusted the glint in her eye and onanother when she saved herself by tripping and showing an undarned heel. 

He was still of an open mind when the girl of a sudden cried, gleefully, "Ma-ma, ma-ma!" and pointed, with her muff, across the street. The wordwas as meaningless to Tommy as mother had been to her, but he saw thatshe was drawing his attention to a woman some thirty yards away. 

"Man--man!" he echoed, chiding her ignorance; "no, no, you blether, thatain't a man, that's a woman; that's woman--woman. "

"Ooman--ooman, " the girl repeated, docilely, but when she looked again, "Ma-ma, ma-ma, " she insisted, and this was Tommy's first lesson thathowever young you catch them they will never listen to reason. 

She seemed of a mind to trip off to this woman, and as long as his ownmother was safe, it did not greatly matter to Tommy whom she chose, butif it was this one, she was going the wrong way about it. You cannotsnap them up in the street. 

The proper course was to track her to her house, which he proceeded todo, and his quarry, who was looking about her anxiously, as if she hadlost something, gave him but a short chase. In the next street to theone in which they had first seen her, a street so like it that Tommymight have admired her for knowing the difference, she opened the doorwith a key and entered, shutting the door behind her. Odd to tell, thechild had pointed to this door as the one she would stop at, whichsurprised Tommy very much. 

On the steps he gave her his final instructions, and she dimpled andgurgled, obviously full of admiration for him, which was a thing heapproved of, but he would have liked to see her a little more serious. 

"That is the door. Well, then, I'll waggle the rail as makes the bellring, and then I'll run. "

That was all, and he wished she had not giggled most of the time. Shewas sniggering, as if she thought him a very funny boy, even when herang the bell and bolted. 

From a safe place he watched the opening of the door, and saw thefrivolous thing lose a valuable second in waving the muff to him. "Inyou go!" he screamed beneath his breath. Then she entered and the doorclosed. He waited an hour, or two minutes, or thereabout, and she hadnot been ejected. Triumph!

With a drum beating inside him Tommy strutted home, where, alas, a boywas waiting to put his foot through it. 

CHAPTER II

BUT THE OTHER GETS IN

To Tommy, a swaggerer, came Shovel sour-visaged; having now no cap ofhis own, he exchanged with Tommy, would also have bled the bloomingmouth of him, but knew of a revenge that saves the knuckles: announced, with jeers and offensive finger exercise, that "it" had come. 

Shovel was a liar. If he only knowed what Tommy knowed!

If Tommy only heard what Shovel had heard!

Tommy was of opinion that Shovel hadn't not heard anything. 

Shovel believed as Tommy didn't know nuthin. 

Tommy wouldn't listen to what Shovel had heard. 

Neither would Shovel listen to what Tommy knew. 

If Shovel would tell what he had heard, Tommy would tell what he knew. 

Well, then, Shovel had listened at the door, and heard it mewling. 

Tommy knowed it well, and it never mewled. 

How could Tommy know it?

'Cos he had been with it a long time. 

Gosh! Why, it had only comed a minute ago. 

This made Tommy uneasy, and he asked a leading question cunningly. Aboy, wasn't it?

No, Shovel's old woman had been up helping to hold it, and she said itwere a girl. 

Shutting his mouth tightly; which was never natural to him, the startledTommy mounted the stair, listened and was convinced. He did not enterhis dishonored home. He had no intention of ever entering it again. Withone salt tear he renounced--a child, a mother. 

On his way downstairs he was received by Shovel and party, who plantedtheir arrows neatly. Kids cried steadily, he was told, for the firstyear. A boy one was bad enough, but a girl one was oh lawks. He mustnever again expect to get playing with blokes like what they was. Already she had got round his old gal who would care for him no more. What would they say about this in Thrums?

Shovel even insisted on returning him his cap, and for some queerreason, this cut deepest. Tommy about to charge, with his head down, nowwalked away so quietly that Shovel, who could not help liking the funnylittle cuss, felt a twinge of remorse, and nearly followed him with amagnanimous offer: to treat him as if he were still respectable. 

Tommy lay down on a distant stair, one of the very stairs where _she_had sat with him. Ladies, don't you dare to pity him now, for he won'tstand it. Rage was what he felt, and a man in a rage (as you may know ifyou are married) is only to be soothed by the sight of all womankind interror of him. But you may look upon your handiwork, and gloat, an youwill, on the wreck you have made. A young gentleman trusted one of you;behold the result. O! O! O! O! now do you understand why we men cannotabide you?

If she had told him flat that his mother, and his alone, she would have, and so there was an end of it. Ah, catch them taking a straight road. But to put on those airs of helplessness, to wave him that gay good-by, and then the moment his back was turned, to be off through the airon--perhaps on her muff, to the home he had thought to lure her from. Ina word, to be diddled by a girl when one flatters himself he isdiddling! S'death, a dashing fellow finds it hard to bear. Nevertheless, he has to bear it, for oh, Tommy, Tommy, 'tis the common lot of man. 

His hand sought his pocket for the penny that had brought him comfort indark hours before now; but, alack, she had deprived him even of it. Never again should his pinkie finger go through that warm hole, and atthe thought a sense of his forlornness choked him and he cried. You maypity him a little now. 

Darkness came and hid him even from himself. He is not found again untila time of the night that is not marked on ornamental clocks, but has anhour to itself on the watch which a hundred thousand or so of Londonwomen carry in their breasts; the hour when men steal homewardstrickling at the mouth and drawing back from their own shadows to thewives they once went a-maying with, or the mothers who had such travailat the bearing of them, as if for great ends. Out of this, thedrunkard's hour, rose the wan face of Tommy, who had waked up somewhereclammy cold and quaking, and he was a very little boy, so he ran to hismother. 

Such a shabby dark room it was, but it was home, such a weary worn womanin the bed, but he was her son, and she had been wringing her handsbecause he was so long in coming, and do you think he hurt her when hepressed his head on her poor breast, and do you think she grudged theheat his cold hands drew from her warm face? He squeezed her with aviolence that put more heat into her blood than he took out of it. 

And he was very considerate, too: not a word of reproach in him, thoughhe knew very well what that bundle in the back of the bed was. 

She guessed that he had heard the news and stayed away through jealousyof his sister, and by and by she said, with a faint smile, "I have apresent for you, laddie. " In the great world without, she used fewThrums words now; you would have known she was Scotch by her accentonly, but when she and Tommy were together in that room, with the doorshut, she always spoke as if her window still looked out on the bonnyMarywellbrae. It is not really bonny, it is gey an' mean an' bleak, andyou must not come to see it. It is just a steep wind-swept street, oldand wrinkled, like your mother's face. 

She had a present for him, she said, and Tommy replied, "I knows, " withaverted face. 

"Such a bonny thing. "

"Bonny enough, " he said bitterly. 

"Look at her, laddie. "

But he shrank from the ordeal, crying, "No, no, keep her covered up!"

The little traitor seemed to be asleep, and so he ventured to say, eagerly, "It wouldn't not take long to carry all our things to anotherhouse, would it? Me and Shovel could near do it ourselves. "

"And that's God's truth, " the woman said, with a look round the room. "But what for should we do that?"

"Do you no see, mother?" he whispered excitedly. "Then you and me couldslip away, and--and leave her--in the press. "

The feeble smile with which his mother received this he interpretedthus, "Wherever we go'd to she would be there before us. "

"The little besom!" he cried helplessly. 

His mother saw that mischievous boys had been mounting him on hishorse, which needed only one slap to make it go a mile; but she was aspiritless woman, and replied indifferently, "You're a funny litlin. "

Presently a dry sob broke from her, and thinking the child was thecause, soft-hearted Tommy said, "It can't not be helped, mother; don'tcry, mother, I'm fond on yer yet, mother; I--I took her away. I foundanother woman--but she would come. "

"She's God's gift, man, " his mother said, but she added, in a differenttone, "Ay, but he hasna sent her keep. "

"God's gift!" Tommy shuddered, but he said sourly, "I wish he would takeher back. Do you wish that, too, mother?"

The weary woman almost said she did, but her arms--they gripped the babyas if frightened that he had sent for it. Jealous Tommy, suddenlydeprived of his mother's hand, cried, "It's true what Shovel says, youdon't not love me never again; you jest loves that little limmer!"

"Na, na, " the mother answered, passionate at last, "she can never be tome what you hae been, my laddie, for you came to me when my hame was inhell, and we tholed it thegither, you and me. "'

This bewildered though it comforted him. He thought his mother might bespeaking about the room in which they had lived until six months ago, when his father was put into the black box, but when he asked her ifthis were so, she told him to sleep, for she was dog-tired. She alwaysevaded him in this way when he questioned her about his past, but attimes his mind would wander backwards unbidden to those distant days, and then he saw flitting dimly through them the elusive form of a child. He knew it was himself, and for moments he could see it clearly, butwhen he moved a step nearer it was not there. So does the child we oncewere play hide and seek with us among the mists of infancy, until oneday he trips and falls into the daylight. Then we seize him, and withthat touch we two are one. It is the birth of self-consciousness. 

Hitherto he had slept at the back of his mother's bed, but to-night shecould not have him there, the place being occupied, and rather sulkilyhe consented to lie crosswise at her feet, undressing by the feeble fireand taking care, as he got into bed, not to look at the usurper. Hismother watched him furtively, and was relieved to read in his face thathe had no recollection of ever having slept at the foot of a bed before. But soon after he fell asleep he awoke, and was afraid to move lest hisfather should kick him. He opened his eyes stealthily, and this wasneither the room nor the bed he had expected to see. 

The floor was bare save for a sheepskin beside the bed. Tommy alwaysstood on the sheepskin while he was dressing because it was warm to thefeet, though risky, as your toes sometimes caught in knots in it. Therewas a deal table in the middle of the floor with some dirty crockeryon it and a kettle that would leave a mark, but they had been left thereby Shovel's old girl, for Mrs. Sandys usually kept her house clean. Thechairs were of the commonest, and the press door would not remain shutunless you stuck a knife between its halves; but there, was a gay bluewardrobe, spotted white where Tommy's mother had scraped off the mudthat had once bespattered it during a lengthy sojourn at the door of ashop; and on the mantelpiece was a clock in a little brown and yellowhouse, and on the clock a Bible that had been in Thrums. But what Tommywas proudest of was his mother's kist, to which the chests of Londonersare not to be compared, though like it in appearance. On the inside ofthe lid of this kist was pasted, after a Thrums custom, something thathis mother called her marriage lines, which she forced Shovel's motherto come up and look at one day, when that lady had made an innuendoTommy did not understand, and Shovel's mother had looked, and though shecould not read, was convinced, knowing them by the shape. 

Tommy lay at the foot of the bed looking at this room, which was hishome now, and trying to think of the other one, and by and by the firehelped him by falling to ashes, when darkness came in, and packing thefurniture in grotesque cloths, removed it piece by piece, all but theclock. Then the room took a new shape. The fireplace was over thereinstead of here, the torn yellow blind gave way to one made of spars ofgreen wood, that were bunched up at one side, like a lady out for awalk. On a round table there was a beautiful blue cloth, with very fewgravy marks, and here a man ate beef when a woman and a boy ate bread, and near the fire was the man's big soft chair, out of which you couldpull hairs, just as if it were Shovel's sister. 

Of this man who was his father he could get no hold. He could feel hispresence, but never see him. Yet he had a face. It sometimes pressedTommy's face against it in order to hurt him, which it could do, beingall short needles at the chin. 

Once in those days Tommy and his mother ran away and hid from some one. He did not know from whom nor for how long, though it was but for aweek, and it left only two impressions on his mind, the one that heoften asked, "Is this starving now, mother?" the other that beforeturning a corner she always peered round it fearfully. Then they wentback again to the man and he laughed when he saw them, but did not takehis feet off the mantelpiece. There came a time when the man was alwaysin bed, but still Tommy could not see his face. What he did see was theman's clothes lying on the large chair just as he had placed them therewhen he undressed for the last time. The black coat and worstedwaistcoat which he could take off together were on the seat, and thelight trousers hung over the side, the legs on the hearthrug, with thered socks still sticking in them: a man without a body. 

But the boy had one vivid recollection of how his mother received thenews of his father's death. An old man with a white beard and gentleways, who often came to give the invalid physic, was standing at thebedside, and Tommy and his mother were sitting on the fender. The oldman came to her and said, "It is all over, " and put her softly into thebig chair. She covered her face with her hands, and he must have thoughtshe was crying, for he tried to comfort her. But as soon as he was goneshe rose, with such a queer face, and went on tiptoe to the bed, andlooked intently at her husband, and then she clapped her hands joyouslythree times. 

At last Tommy fell asleep with his mouth open, which is the mostimportant thing that has been told of him as yet, and while he slept daycame and restored the furniture that night had stolen. But when the boywoke he did not even notice the change; his brain traversed the hours ithad lost since he lay down as quickly as you may put on a stopped clock, and with his first tick he was thinking of nothing but the deceiver inthe back of the bed. He raised his head, but could only see that she hadcrawled under the coverlet to escape his wrath. His mother was asleep. Tommy sat up and peeped over the edge of the bed, then he let his eyeswander round the room; he was looking for the girl's clothes, but theywere nowhere to be seen. It is distressing to have to tell that what wasin his mind was merely the recovery of his penny. Perhaps as they wereSunday clothes she had hung them up in the wardrobe? He slipped on tothe floor and crossed to the wardrobe, but not even the muff could hefind. Had she been tired, and gone to bed in them? Very softly hecrawled over his mother, and pulling the coverlet off the child's face, got the great shock of his childhood. 

It was another one!

CHAPTER III

SHOWING HOW TOMMY WAS SUDDENLY TRANSFORMED INTO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN

It would have fared ill with Mrs. Sandys now, had her standoffishness toher neighbors been repaid in the same coin, but they were full ofsympathy, especially Shovel's old girl, from whom she had often drawnback offensively on the stair, but who nevertheless waddled up severaltimes a day with savory messes, explaining, when Mrs. Sandys sniffed, that it was not the tapiocar but merely the cup that smelt of gin. WhenTommy returned the cups she noticed not only that they were suspiciouslyclean, but that minute particles of the mess were adhering to his noseand chin (perched there like shipwrecked mariners on a rock, just out ofreach of the devouring element), and after this discovery she broughttwo cupfuls at a time. She was an Irish, woman who could have led theHouse of Commons, and in walking she seldom raised her carpet shoes fromthe ground, perhaps because of her weight, for she had an expansivefigure that bulged in all directions, and there were always bits of herhere and there that she had forgotten to lace. Round the corner was adelightful eating-house, through whose window you were allowed to gazeat the great sweating dumplings, and Tommy thought Shovel's mother wasrather like a dumpling that had not been a complete success. If he everknew her name he forgot it. Shovel, who probably had another name also, called her his old girl or his old woman or his old lady, and it was asight to see her chasing him across the street when she was in liquor, and boastful was Shovel of the way she could lay on, and he was partialto her too, and once when she was giving it to him pretty strong withthe tongs, his father (who followed many professions, among them that offinding lost dogs), had struck her and told her to drop it, and thenShovel sauced his father for interfering, saying she should lick him aslong as she blooming well liked, which made his father go for him with adog-collar; and that was how Shovel lost his eye. 

For reasons less unselfish than his old girl's Shovel also was willingto make up to Tommy at this humiliating time. It might be said of thesetwo boys that Shovel knew everything but Tommy knew other things, and asthe other things are best worth hearing of Shovel liked to listen tothem, even when they were about Thrums, as they usually were. The veryfirst time Tommy told him of the wondrous spot, Shovel had drawn a greatbreath, and said, thoughtfully:

"I allers knowed as there were sich a beauty place, but I didn't jestknow its name. "

"How could yer know?" Tommy asked jealously. 

"I ain't sure, " said Shovel, "p'raps I dreamed on it. "

"That's it, " Tommy cried. "I tell yer, everybody dreams on it!" andTommy was right; everybody dreams of it, though not all call it Thrums. 

On the whole, then, the coming of the kid, who turned out to be calledElspeth, did not ostracize Tommy, but he wished that he had let theother girl in, for he never doubted that her admittance would have keptthis one out. He told neither his mother nor his friend of the othergirl, fearing that his mother would be angry with him when she learnedwhat she had missed, and that Shovel would crow over his blundering, butoccasionally he took a side glance at the victorious infant, and apoorer affair, he thought, he had never set eyes on. Sometimes it wasshe who looked at him, and then her chuckle of triumph was hard to bear. As long as his mother was there, however, he endured in silence, but thefirst day she went out in a vain search for work (it is about asdifficult to get washing as to get into the Cabinet), he gave the infanta piece of his mind, poking up her head with a stick so that she wasbound to listen. 

"You thinks as it was clever on you, does yer? Oh, if I had been on thestair!

"You needn't not try to get round me. I likes the other one five timesbetter; yes, three times better. 

"Thievey, thievey, thief, that's her place you is lying in. What?

"If you puts out your tongue at me again--! What do yer say?

"She was twice bigger than you. You ain't got no hair, nor yet no teeth. You're the littlest I ever seed. Eh? Don't not speak then, sulks!"

Prudence had kept him away from the other girl, but he was feeling agreat want: someone to applaud him. When we grow older we call itsympathy. How Reddy (as he called her because she had beautifulred-brown hair) had appreciated him! She had a way he liked of openingher eyes very wide when she looked at him. Oh, what a difference fromthat thing in the back of the bed!

Not the mere selfish desire to see her again, however, would take him inquest of Reddy. He was one of those superior characters, was Tommy, whogot his pleasure in giving it, and therefore gave it. Now, Reddy was aworthy girl. In suspecting her of overreaching him he had maligned her:she had taken what he offered, and been thankful. It was fitting that heshould give her a treat: let her see him again. 

His mother was at last re-engaged by her old employers, her supplanterhaving proved unsatisfactory, and as the work lay in a distant street, she usually took the kid with her, thus leaving no one to spy on Tammy'smovements. Reddy's reward for not playing him false, however, did notreach her as soon as doubtless she would have liked, because the firsttwo or three times he saw her she was walking with the lady of hischoice, and of course he was not such a fool as to show himself. But hewalked behind them and noted with satisfaction that the lady seemed tobe reconciled to her lot and inclined to let bygones be bygones; whenat length Reddy and her patron met, Tommy thought this a good sign too, that Ma-ma (as she would call the lady) had told her not to go fartheraway than the lamp-post, lest she should get lost again. So evidentlyshe had got lost once already, and the lady had been sorry. He askedReddy many shrewd questions about how Ma-ma treated her, and if she gotthe top of the Sunday egg and had the licking of the pan and woreflannel underneath and slept at the back; and the more he inquired, themore clearly he saw that he had got her one of the right kind. 

Tommy arranged with her that she should always be on the outlook for himat the window, and he would come sometimes, and after that they metfrequently, and she proved a credit to him, gurgling with mirth at histales of Thrums, and pinching him when he had finished, to make surethat he was really made just like common human beings. He was a thin, pale boy, while she looked like a baby rose full blown in a nightbecause her time was short; and his movements were sluggish, but if shewas not walking she must be dancing, and sometimes when there were fewpeople in the street, the little armful of delight that she was jumpedup and down like a ball, while Tommy kept the time, singing "Thrummy, Thrummy, Thrum Thrum Thrummy. " They must have seemed a quaint pair tothe lady as she sat at her window watching them and beckoning to Tommyto come in. 

One day he went in, but only because she had come up behind and takenhis hand before he could run. Then did Tommy quake, for he knew fromReddy how the day after the mother-making episode, Ma-ma and she hadsought in vain for his door, and he saw that the object had been to calldown curses on his head. So that head was hanging limply now. 

You think that Tommy is to be worsted at last, but don't be too sure;you just wait and see. Ma-ma and Reddy (who was clucking ratherheartlessly) first took him into a room prettier even than the one hehad lived in long ago (but there was no bed in it), and then, becausesomeone they were in search of was not there, into another room withouta bed (where on earth did they sleep?) whose walls were lined withbooks. Never having seen rows of books before except on sale in thestreets, Tommy at once looked about him for the barrow. The table wasstrewn with sheets of paper of the size that they roll a quarter ofbutter in, and it was an amazing thick table, a solid square of wood, save for a narrow lane down the centre for the man to put his legsin--if he had legs, which unfortunately there was reason to doubt. Hewas a formidable man, whose beard licked the table while he wrote, andhe wore something like a brown blanket, with a rope tied round it at themiddle. Even more uncanny than himself were three busts on a shelf, which Tommy took to be deaders, and he feared the blanket might blowopen and show that the man also ended at the waist. But he did not, forpresently he turned round to see who had come in (the seat of his chairturning with him in the most startling way) and then Tommy was relievedto notice two big feet far away at the end of him. 

"This is the boy, dear, " the lady said. "I had to bring him in byforce. "

Tommy raised his arm instinctively to protect his face, this being thekind of man who could hit hard. But presently he was confused, and also, alas, leering a little. You may remember that Reddy had told him shemust not go beyond the lamp-post, lest she should be lost again. She hadgiven him no details of the adventure, but he learned now from Ma-ma andPapa (the man's name was Papa) that she had strayed when Ma-ma was in ashop and that some good kind boy had found her and brought her home; andwhat do you say to this, they thought Tommy was that boy! In hisamazement he very nearly blurted out that he was the other boy, but justthen the lady asked Papa if he had a shilling, and this abruptly closedTommy's mouth. Ever afterwards he remembered Papa as the man that wasnot sure whether he had a shilling until he felt his pockets--a new kindof mortal to Tommy, who grabbed the shilling when it was offered tohim, and then looked at Reddy imploringly, he was so afraid she wouldtell. But she behaved splendidly, and never even shook her head at him. After this, as hardly need be told, his one desire was to get out of thehouse with his shilling before they discovered their mistake, and it waswell that they were unsuspicious people, for he was making strangehissing sounds in his throat, the result of trying hard to keep hissniggers under control. 

There were many ways in which Tommy could have disposed of his shilling. He might have been a good boy and returned it next day to Papa. He mighthave given Reddy half of it for not telling. It could have carried himover the winter. He might have stalked with it into the shop where thegreasy puddings were and come rolling out hours afterwards. Some ofthese schemes did cross his little mind, but he decided to spend thewhole shilling on a present to his mother, and it was to be somethinguseful. He devoted much thought to what she was most in need of, and atlast he bought her a colored picture of Lord Byron swimming theHellespont. 

He told her that he got his shilling from two toffs for playing with alittle girl, and the explanation satisfied her; but she could have criedat the waste of the money, which would have been such a God-send to her. He cried altogether, however, at sight of her face, having expected itto look so pleased, and then she told him, with caresses, that thepicture was the one thing she had been longing for ever since she cameto London. How had he known this, she asked, and he clapped his handsgleefully, and said he just knowed when he saw it in the shop window. 

"It was noble of you, " she said, "to spend all your siller on me. "

"Wasn't it, mother?" he crowed "I'm thinking there ain't many as nobleas I is!"

He did not say why he had been so good to her, but it was because shehad written no letters to Thrums since the intrusion of Elspeth; astrange reason for a boy whose greatest glory at one time had been tosit on the fender and exultingly watch his mother write down words thatwould be read aloud in the wonderful place. She was a long time inwriting a letter, but that only made the whole evening romantic, and hefound an arduous employment in keeping his tongue wet in preparation forthe licking of the stamp. 

But she could not write to the Thrums folk now without telling them ofElspeth, who was at present sleeping the sleep of the shameless in thehollow of the bed, and so for his sake, Tommy thought, she meant towrite no more. For his sake, mark you, not for her own. She had oftentold him that some day he should go to Thrums, but not with her; shewould be far away from him then in a dark place she was awid to be lyingin. Thus it seemed, to Tommy that she denied herself the pleasure ofwriting to Thrums lest the sorry news of Elspeth's advent should spoilhis reception when he went north. 

So grateful Tommy gave her the picture, hoping that it would fill thevoid. But it did not. She put it on the mantelpiece so that she mightjust sit and look at it, she said, and he grinned at it from every partof the room, but when he returned to her, he saw that she was neitherlooking at it nor thinking of it. She was looking straight before her, and sometimes her lips twitched, and then she drew them into her mouthto keep them still. It is a kind of dry weeping that sometimes comes tomiserable ones when their minds stray into the happy past, and Tommy satand watched her silently for a long time, never doubting that the causeof all her woe was that she could not write to Thrums. 

He had seldom seen tears on his mother's face, but he saw one now. Theyhad been reluctant to come for many a day, and this one formed itselfbeneath her eye and sat there like a blob of blood. 

His own began to come more freely. But she needn't not expect him totell her to write nor to say that he didn't care what Thrums thought ofhim so long as she was happy. 

The tear rolled down his mother's thin cheek and fell on the grey shawlthat had come from Thrums. 

She did not hear her boy as he dragged a chair to the press and standingon it got something down from the top shelf. She had forgotten him, andshe started when presently the pen was slipped into her hand and Tommysaid, "You can do it, mother, I wants yer to do it, mother, I won't notgreet, mother!"

When she saw what he wanted her to do she patted his face approvingly, but without realizing the extent of his sacrifice. She knew that he hadsome maggot in his head that made him regard Elspeth as a sore on thefamily honor, but ascribing his views to jealousy she had never triedseriously to change them. Her main reason for sending no news to Thrumsof late had been but the cost of the stamp, though she was also a littleconscience-stricken at the kind of letters she wrote, and the sight ofthe materials lying ready for her proved sufficient to draw her to thetable. 

"Is it to your grandmother you is writing the letter?" Tommy asked, forher grandmother had brought Mrs. Sandys up and was her only survivingrelative. This was all Tommy knew of his mother's life in Thrums, thoughshe had told him much about other Thrums folk, and not till longafterwards did he see that there must be something queer about herself, which she was hiding from him. 

This letter was not for her granny, however, and Tommy asked next, "Isit to Aaron Latta?" which so startled her that she dropped the pen. 

"Whaur heard you that name?" she said sharply. "I never spoke it toyou. "

"I've heard you saying it when you was sleeping, mother. "

"Did I say onything but the name? Quick, tell me. "

"You said, 'Oh, Aaron Latta, oh, Aaron, little did we think, Aaron, ' andthings like that. Are you angry with me, mother?"

"No, " she said, relieved, but it was some time before the desire towrite came back to her. Then she told him "The letter is to a woman thatwas gey cruel to me, " adding, with a complacent pursing of her lips, thecurious remark, "That's the kind I like to write to best. "

The pen went scrape, scrape, but Tommy did not weary, though he oftensighed, because his mother would never read aloud to him what she wrote. The Thrums people never answered her letters, for the reason, she said, that those she wrote to could not write, which seemed to simple Tommy tobe a sufficient explanation. So he had never heard the inside of aletter talking, though a postman lived in the house, and even Shovel'sold girl got letters; once when her uncle died she got a telegram, whichShovel proudly wheeled up and down the street in a barrow, other blokeskeeping guard at the side. To give a letter to a woman who had beencruel to you struck Tommy as the height of nobility. 

"She'll be uplifted when she gets it!" he cried. 

"She'll be mad when she gets it, " answered his mother, without lookingup. 

This was the letter:--

"MY DEAR ESTHER, --I send you these few scrapes to let you see I have notforgot you, though my way is now grand by yours. A spleet new blacksilk, Esther, being the second in a twelvemonth, as I'm a living woman. The other is no none tashed yet, but my gudeman fair insisted on buyinga new one, for says he 'Rich folk like as can afford to be mislaird, andnothing's ower braw for my bonny Jean. ' Tell Aaron Latta that. When I'msailing in my silks, Esther, I sometimes picture you turning your winceyagain, for I'se uphaud that's all the new frock you've ha'en the year. Idinna want to give you a scunner of your man, Esther, more by token theysaid if your mither had not took him in hand you would never have kentthe color of his nightcap, but when you are wraxing ower your kail-potin a plot of heat, just picture me ringing the bell for my servant, andsaying, with a wave of my hand, 'Servant, lay the dinner. ' And ony bonnyafternoon when your man is cleaning out stables and you're at the tub ina short gown, picture my man taking me and the children out a ride in acarriage, and I sair doubt your bairns was never in nothing more genteelthan a coal cart. For bairns is yours, Esther, and children is mine, andthat's a burn without a brig till't. 

"Deary me, Esther, what with one thing and another, namely buying asofa, thirty shillings as I'm a sinner, I have forgot to tell you aboutmy second, and it's a girl this time, my man saying he would like achange. We have christened her Elspeth after my grandmamma, and if myauld granny's aye living, you can tell her that's her. My man isterrible windy of his two beautiful children, but he says he would havebeen the happiest gentleman in London though he had just had me, andreally his fondness for me, it cows, Esther, sitting aside me on thebed, two pounds without the blankets, about the time Elspeth was born, and feeding me with the fat of the land, namely, tapiocas and sherrywine. Tell Aaron Latta that. 

"I pity you from the bottom of my heart, Esther, for having to bide inThrums, but you have never seen no better, your man having neither thesiller nor the desire to take yon jaunts, and I'm thinking that is justas well, for if you saw how the like of me lives it might disgust youwith your own bit house. I often laugh, Esther, to think that I was oncelike you, and looked upon Thrums as a bonny place. How is the old hole?My son makes grand sport of the onfortunate bairns as has to bide inThrums, and I see him doing it the now to his favorite companion, whichis a young gentleman of ladylike manners, as bides in our terrace. So nomore at present, for my man is sitting ganting for my society, and Idaresay yours is crying to you to darn his old socks. Mind and tellAaron Latta. "

This letter was posted next day by Tommy, with the assistance of Shovel, who seems to have been the young gentleman of ladylike manners referredto in the text. 

CHAPTER IV

THE END OF AN IDYLL

Tommy never saw Reddy again owing to a fright he got about this time, for which she was really to blame, though a woman who lived in his housewas the instrument. 

It is, perhaps, idle to attempt a summary of those who lived in thathouse, as one at least will be off, and another in his place, while weare giving them a line apiece. They were usually this kind who livedthrough the wall from Mrs. Sandys, but beneath her were the two rooms ofHankey, the postman, and his lodger, the dreariest of middle-aged clerksexcept when telling wistfully of his ambition, which was to get out ofthe tea department into the coffee department, where there is an easierway of counting up the figures. Shovel and family were also on thisfloor, and in the rooms under them was a newly married couple. When thehusband was away at his work, his wife would make some change in thefurniture, taking the picture from this wall, for instance, and hangingit on that wall, or wheeling the funny chair she had lain in before shecould walk without a crutch, to the other side of the fireplace, orputting a skirt of yellow paper round the flower pot, and when hereturned he always jumped back in wonder and exclaimed: "What an immenseimprovement!" These two were so fond of one another that Tommy askedthem the reason, and they gave it by pointing to the chair with thewheels, which seemed to him to be no reason at all. What was this younghusband's trade Tommy never knew, but he was the only prettily dressedman in the house, and he could be heard roaring in his sleep, "_And_ thenext article?" The meanest looking man lived next door to him. Everymorning this man put on a clean white shirt, which sounds like asplendid beginning, but his other clothes were of the seediest, and hecame and went shivering, raising his shoulders to his ears and spreadinghis hands over his chest as if anxious to hide his shirt rather than todisplay it. He and the happy husband were nicknamed Before and After, they were so like the pictorial advertisement of Man before and after hehas tried Someone's lozenges. But it is rash to judge by outsides; Tommyand Shovel one day tracked Before to his place of business, and itproved to be a palatial eating-house, long, narrow, padded with redcushions; through the door they saw the once despised, now in beautifulblack clothes, the waistcoat a mere nothing, as if to give his shirt achance at last, a towel over his arm, and to and fro he darted, saying "Yessirquitesosir" to the toffs on the seats, shouting"Twovegonebeef--onebeeronetartinahurry" to someone invisible, andpocketing twopences all day long, just like a lord. On the same floor asBefore and After lived the large family of little Pikes, who quarrelledat night for the middle place in the bed, and then chips of ceiling fellinto the room below, tenant Jim Ricketts and parents, lodger the youngwoman we have been trying all these doors for. Her the police snapped upon a charge; that made Tommy want to hide himself--child-desertion. 

Shovel was the person best worth listening to on the subject (observehim, the centre of half a dozen boys), and at first he was for thedefence, being a great stickler for the rights of mothers. But when thecase against the girl leaked out, she need not look to him for help. Thepolice had found the child in a basket down an area, and being knowingones they pinched it to make it cry, and then they pretended to go away. Soon the mother, who was watching hard by to see if it fell into kindhands, stole to her baby to comfort it, "and just as she were a kissingon it and blubbering, the perlice copped her. "

"The slut!" said disgusted Shovel, "what did she hang about for?" and inanswer to a trembling question from Tommy he replied, decisively, "Sixmonths hard. "

"Next case" was probably called immediately, but Tommy vanished, as ifhe had been sentenced and removed to the cells. 

Never again, unless he wanted six months hard, must he go near Reddy'shome, and so he now frequently accompanied his mother to the place whereshe worked. The little room had a funny fireplace called a stove, onwhich his mother made tea and the girls roasted chestnuts, and it had noother ordinary furniture except a long form. But the walls weremysterious. Three of them were covered with long white cloths, whichwent to the side when you tugged them, and then you could see on railsdozens of garments that looked like nightgowns. Beneath the form werescores of little shoes, most of them white or brown. In this houseTommy's mother spent eight hours daily, but not all of them in thisroom. When she arrived the first thing she did was to put Elspeth on thefloor, because you cannot fall off a floor; then she went upstairs witha bucket and a broom to a large bare room, where she stayed so long thatTommy nearly forgot what she was like. 

While his mother was upstairs Tommy would give Elspeth two or threeshoes to eat to keep her quiet, and then he played with the others, pretending to be able to count them, arranging them in designs, shootingthem, swimming among them, saying "bow-wow" at them and then turningsharply to see who had said it. Soon Elspeth dropped her shoes and gazedin admiration at him, but more often than not she laughed in the wrongplace, and then he said ironically: "Oh, in course I can't do nothin';jest let's see you doing of it, then, cocky!"

By the time the girls began to arrive, singly or in twos and threes, hismother was back in the little room, making tea for herself or sewingbits of them that had been torn as they stepped out of a cab, or helpingthem to put on the nightgowns, or pretending to listen pleasantly totheir chatter and hating them all the time. There was every kind ofthem, gorgeous ones and shabby ones, old tired ones and dashing youngones, but whether they were the Honorable Mrs. Something or only JaneAnything, they all came to that room for the same purpose: to get alittle gown and a pair of shoes. Then they went upstairs and danced to astout little lady, called the Sylph, who bobbed about like a ball at theend of a piece of elastic. What Tommy never forgot was that while theydanced the Sylph kept saying, "One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four, " which they did not seem to mind, but when she said "One, two, three, four, _picture_!" they all stopped and stood motionless, thoughit might be with one foot as high as their head and their arms stretchedout toward the floor, as if they had suddenly seen a halfpenny there. 

In the waiting-room, how they joked and pirouetted and gossiped, andhugged and scorned each other, and what slang they spoke and how prettythey often looked next moment, and how they denounced the one that hadjust gone out as a cat with whom you could not get in a word edgeways, and oh, how prompt they were to give a slice of their earnings to any"cat" who was hard up! But still, they said, she had talent, but nogenius. How they pitied people without genius. 

Have you ever tasted an encore or a reception? Tommy never had his teethin one, but he heard much about them in that room, and concluded thatthey were some sort of cake. It was not the girls who danced in groups, but those who danced alone, that spoke of their encores and receptions, and sometimes they had got them last night, sometimes years ago. Twogirls met in the room, one of whom had stolen the other's reception, and--but it was too dreadful to write about. Most of them carriednewspaper cuttings in their purses and read them aloud to the others, who would not listen. Tommy listened, however, and as it was all abouthow one house had risen at the girls and they had brought another down, he thought they led the most adventurous lives. 

Occasionally they sent him out to buy newspapers or chestnuts, and thenhe had to keep a sharp eye on the police lest they knew about Reddy. Itwas a point of honor with all the boys he knew to pretend that thepoliceman was after them. To gull the policeman into thinking all waswell they blackened their faces and wore their jackets inside out; theiroccupation was a constant state of readiness to fly from him, and whenhe tramped out of sight, unconscious of their existence, they emergedfrom dark places and spoke in exultant whispers. Tommy had been proud tojoin them, but he now resented their going on in this way; he felt thathe alone had the right to fly from the law. And once at least while hewas flying something happened to him that he was to remember better, farbetter, than his mother's face. 

What set him running on this occasion (he had been sent out to get oneof the girls' shoes soled) was the grandest sight to be seen inLondon--an endless row of policemen walking in single file, all with theright leg in the air at the same time, then the left leg. Seeing at oncethat they were after him, Tommy ran, ran, ran until in turning a cornerhe found himself wedged between two legs. He was of just sufficient sizeto fill the aperture, but after a momentary look he squeezed through, and they proved to be the gate into an enchanted land. 

The magic began at once. "Dagont, you sacket!" cried some wizard. 

A policeman's hand on his shoulder could not have taken the wind out ofTommy more quickly. In the act of starting a-running again he broughtdown his hind foot with a thud and stood stock still. Can any onewonder? It was the Thrums tongue, and this the first time he had heardit except from his mother. 

It was a dull day, and all the walls were dripping wet, this being thepart of London where the fogs are kept. Many men and women were passingto and fro, and Tommy, with a wild exultation in his breast, peered upat the face of this one and that; but no, they were only ordinarypeople, and he played rub-a-dub with his feet on the pavement, sofurious was he with them for moving on as if nothing had happened. Drawup, ye carters; pedestrians, stand still; London, silence for a moment, and let Tommy Sandys listen!

Being but a frail plant in the way of a flood, Tommy was rooted up andborne onward, but he did not feel the buffeting. In a passion of griefhe dug his fists in his eyes, for the glory had been his for but amoment. It can be compared to nothing save the parcel (attached to aconcealed string) which Shovel and he once placed on the stair for BillyHankey to find, and then whipped away from him just as he had got itunder his arm. But so near the crying, Tommy did not cry, for even whilethe tears were rushing to his aid he tripped on the step of a shop, andimmediately, as if that had rung the magic bell again, a voice, awoman's voice this time, said shrilly, "Threepence ha'penny, and themjimply as big as a bantam's! Na, na, but I'll gi'e you five bawbees. "

Tommy sat down flop on the step, feeling queer in the head. Was it--wasit--was it Thrums? He knew he had been running a long time. 

The woman, or fairy, or whatever you choose to call her, came out ofthe shop and had to push Tommy aside to get past. Oh, what a sweet footto be kicked by. At the time, he thought she was dressed not unlike thewomen of his own stair, but this defect in his vision he mendedafterward, as you may hear. Of course, he rose and trotted by her sidelike a dog, looking up at her as if she were a cathedral; but shemistook his awe for impudence and sent him sprawling, with the words, "Tak that, you glowering partan!"

Do you think Tommy resented this? On the contrary he screamed from wherehe lay, "Say it again! say it again!"

She was gone, however, but only, as it were, to let a window open, fromwhich came the cry, "Davit, have you seen my man?"

A male fairy roared back from some invisible place, "He has gone yont toPetey's wi' the dambrod. "

"I'll dambrod him!" said the female fairy, and the window shut. 

Tommy was now staggering like one intoxicated, but he had still somesense left him, and he walked up and down in front of this house, as ifto take care of it. In the middle of the street some boys were very busyat a game, carts and lorries passing over them occasionally. They cameto the pavement to play marbles, and then Tommy noticed that one of themwore what was probably a glengarry bonnet. Could he be a Thrums boy?

At first he played in the stupid London way, but by and by he had tomake a new ring, and he did it by whirling round on one foot. Tommy knewfrom his mother that it is only done in this way in Thrums. Oho! Oho!

By this time he was prancing round his discovery, saying, "I'm one, too--so am I--dagont, does yer hear? dagont!" which so alarmed the boythat he picked up his marble and fled, Tommy, of course, after him. Alas! he must have been some mischievous sprite, for he lured hispursuer back into London and then vanished, and Tommy, searching in vainfor the enchanted street, found his own door instead. 

His mother pooh-poohed his tale, though he described the street exactlyas it struck him on reflection, and it bore a curious resemblance to thepalace of Aladdin that Reddy had told him about, leaving his imaginationto fill in the details, which it promptly did, with a square, atown-house, some outside stairs, and an auld licht kirk. There was nosuch street, however, his mother assured him; he had been dreaming. Butif this were so, why was she so anxious to make him promise never tolook for the place again?

He did go in search of it again, daily for a time, always keeping alook-out for bow-legs, and the moment he saw them, he dived recklesslybetween, hoping to come out into fairyland on the other side. For thoughhe had lost the street, he knew that this was the way in. 

Shovel had never heard of the street, nor had Bob. But Bob gave himsomething that almost made him forget it for a time. Bob was hisfavorite among the dancing girls, and she--or should it be he? The oddthing about these girls was that a number of them were really boys--orat least were boys at Christmas-time, which seemed to Tommy to be evenstranger than if they had been boys all the year round. A friend ofBob's remarked to her one day, "You are to be a girl next winter, ain'tyou, Bob?" and Bob shook her head scornfully. 

"Do you see any green in my eye, my dear?" she inquired. 

Her friend did not look, but Tommy looked, and there was none. Heassured her of this so earnestly that Bob fell in love with him on thespot, and chucked him under the chin, first with her thumb and then withher toe, which feat was duly reported to Shovel, who could do it by theend of the week. 

Did Tommy, Bob wanted to know, still think her a mere woman?

No, he withdrew the charge, but--but--She was wearing her outdoorgarments, and he pointed to them, "Why does yer wear them, then?" hedemanded. 

"For the matter of that, " she replied, pointing at his frock, "why doyou wear them?" Whereupon Tommy began to cry. 

"I ain't not got no right ones, " he blubbered. Harum-scarum Bob, whowas a trump, had him in her motherly arms immediately, and the upshot ofit was that a blue suit she had worn when she was Sam Something changedowners. Mrs. Sandys "made it up, " and that is how Tommy got intotrousers. 

Many contingencies were considered in the making, but the suit would fitTommy by and by if he grew, or it shrunk, and they did not pass eachother in the night. When proud Tommy first put on his suit the mostunexpected shyness overcame him, and having set off vaingloriously hestuck on the stair and wanted to hide. Shovel, who had been having anargument with his old girl, came, all boastful bumps, to him, and Tommyjust stood still with a self-conscious simper on his face. And Shovel, who could have damped him considerably, behaved in the most honorablemanner, initiating him gravely into the higher life, much as you showthe new member round your club. 

It was very risky to go back to Reddy, whom he had not seen for manyweeks; but in trousers! He could not help it. He only meant to walk upand down her street, so that she might see him from the window, and knowthat this splendid thing was he; but though he went several times intothe street, Reddy never came to the window. 

The reason he had to wait in vain at Reddy's door was that she was dead;she had been dead for quite a long time when Tommy came back to look forher. You mothers who have lost your babies, I should be a sorry knavewere I to ask you to cry now over the death of another woman's child. Reddy had been lent to two people for a very little while, just as yourbabies were, and when the time was up she blew a kiss to them and rangleefully back to God, just as your babies did. The gates of heaven areso easily found when we are little, and they are always standing open tolet children wander in. 

But though Reddy was gone away forever, mamma still lived in that house, and on a day she opened the door to come out, Tommy was standingthere--she saw him there waiting for Reddy. Dry-eyed this sorrowfulwoman had heard the sentence pronounced, dry eyed she had followed thelittle coffin to its grave; tears had not come even when waking fromillusive dreams she put out her hand in bed to a child who was notthere; but when she saw Tommy waiting at the door for Reddy, who hadbeen dead for a month, her bosom moved and she could cry again. 

Those tears were sweet to her husband, and it was he who took Tommy onhis knee in the room where the books were, and told him that there wasno Reddy now. When Tommy knew that Reddy was a deader he cried bitterly, and the man said, very gently, "I am glad you were so fond of her. "

"'T ain't that, " Tommy answered with a knuckle in his eye, "'t ain'tthat as makes me cry. " He looked down at his trousers and in a freshoutburst of childish grief he wailed, "It's them!"

Papa did not understand, but the boy explained. "She can't not neversee them now, " he sobbed, "and I wants her to see them, and they haspockets!"

It had come to the man unexpectedly. He put Tommy down almost roughly, and raised his hand to his head as if he felt a sudden pain there. 

But Tommy, you know, was only a little boy. 

CHAPTER V

THE GIRL WITH TWO MOTHERS

Elspeth at last did something to win Tommy's respect; she fell ill of anailment called in Thrums the croop. When Tommy first heard his mothercall it croop, he thought she was merely humoring Elspeth, and that itwas nothing more distinguished than London whooping-cough, but onlearning that it was genuine croop, he began to survey the ambitiouslittle creature with a new interest. 

This was well for Elspeth, as she had now to spend most of the day athome with him, their mother, whose health was failing through frequentattacks of bronchitis, being no longer able to carry her through thestreets. Of course Elspeth took to repaying his attentions by lovinghim, and he soon suspected it, and then gloomily admitted it to himself, but never to Shovel. Being but an Englishman, Shovel saw no reason whyrelatives should conceal their affection for each other, but he playedon this Scottish weakness of Tommy's with cruel enjoyment. 

"She's fond on yer!" he would say severely. 

"You's a liar. "

"Gar long! I believe as you're fond on her!"

"You jest take care, Shovel. "

"Ain't yer?"

"Na-o!"

"Will yer swear?"

"So I will swear. "

"Let's hear yer. "

"Dagont!"

So for a time the truth was kept hidden, and Shovel retired, castingaspersions, and offering to eat all the hair on Elspeth's head for apenny. 

This hair was white at present, which made Tommy uneasy about herfuture, but on the whole he thought he might make something of her ifshe was only longer. Sometimes he stretched her on the floor, pullingher legs out straight, for she had a silly way of doubling them up, andthen he measured her carefully with his mother's old boots. Her growthproved to be distressingly irregular, as one day she seemed to havegrown an inch since last night, and then next day she had shrunk twoinches. 

After her day's work Mrs. Sandys was now so listless that, had not Tommyinterfered, Elspeth would have been a backward child. Reddy had beenable to walk from the first day, and so of course had he, but thislittle slow-coach's legs wobbled at the joints, like the blade of aknife without a spring. The question of questions was How to keep her onend?

Tommy sat on the fender revolving this problem, his head resting on hishand: that favorite position of mighty intellects when about to bephotographed, Elspeth lay on her stomach on the floor, gazing earnestlyat him, as if she knew she was in his thoughts for some stupendouspurpose. Thus the apple may have looked at Newton before it fell. 

Hankey, the postman, compelled the flowers in his window to stand erectby tying them to sticks, so Tommy took two sticks from a bundle offirewood, and splicing Elspeth's legs to them, held her upright againstthe door with one hand. All he asked of her to-day was to remain in thisposition after he said "One, two, three, four, _picture_!" and withdrewhis hand, but down she flopped every time, and he said, with scorn, "You ain't got no genius: you has just talent. "

But he had her in bed with the scratches nicely covered up before hismother came home. 

He tried another plan with more success. Lost dogs, it may beremembered, had a habit of following Shovel's father, and he not onlytook the wanderers in, but taught them how to beg and shake hands andwalk on two legs. Tommy had sometimes been present at these agreeableexercises, and being an inventive boy he--But as Elspeth was a nicegirl, let it suffice to pause here and add shyly, that in time she couldwalk. 

He also taught her to speak, and if you need to be told with whatluscious word he enticed her into language you are sentenced to re-readthe first pages of his life. 

"Thrums, " he would say persuasively, "Thrums, Thrums. You opens yourmouth like this, and shuts it like this, and that's it. " Yet when he hadcoaxed her thus for many days, what does she do but break her longsilence with the word "Tommy!" The recoil knocked her over. 

Soon afterward she brought down a bigger bird. No Londoner can say "Auldlicht, " and Tommy had often crowed over Shovel's "Ol likt. " When thetesting of Elspeth could be deferred no longer, he eyed her with thelook a hen gives the green egg on which she has been sitting twentydays, but Elspeth triumphed, saying the words modestly even, as ifnothing inside her told her she had that day done something which wouldhave baffled Shakespeare, not to speak of most of the gentlemen who sitfor Scotch constituencies. 

"Reddy couldn't say it!" Tommy cried exultantly, and from that greathour he had no more fears for Elspeth. 

Next the alphabet knocked for admission; and entered first _M_ and _P_, which had prominence in the only poster visible from the window. Mrs. Sandys had taught Tommy his letters, but he had got into words bystudying posters. 

Elspeth being able now to make the perilous descent of the stairs, Tommy guided her through the streets (letting go hurriedly if Shovelhove in sight), and here she bagged new letters daily. With Catlingssomething, which is the best, she got into capital _C_s; _y_s are foundeasily when you know where to look for them (they hang on behind); _N_sare never found singly, but often three at a time; _Q_ is soaristocratic that even Tommy had only heard of it, doubtless it wasthere, but indistinguishable among the masses like a celebrity in acrowd; on the other hand, big _A_ and little _e_ were so dirt cheap, that these two scholars passed them with something very like a sneer. 

The printing-press is either the greatest blessing or the greatest curseof modern times, one sometimes forgets which. Elspeth's faith in it wasabsolute, and as it only spoke to her from placards, here was herreligion, at the age of four:

"PRAY WITHOUT CEASING. HAPPY ARE THEY WHO NEEDING KNOW THEPAINLESS POROUS PLASTER. "

Of religion, Tommy had said many fine things to her, embellishments onthe simple doctrine taught him by his mother before the miseries of thisworld made her indifferent to the next. But the meaning of "Pray withoutceasing, " Elspeth, who was God's child always, seemed to find out forherself, and it cured all her troubles. She prayed promptly for everyone she saw doing wrong, including Shovel, who occasionally had wordswith Tommy on the subject, and she not only prayed for her mother, butproposed to Tommy that they should buy her a porous plaster. Mrs. Sandyshad been down with bronchitis again. 

Tommy raised the monetary difficulty. 

Elspeth knew where there was some money, and it was her very own. 

Tommy knew where there was money, and it was his very own. 

Elspeth would not tell how much she had, and it was twopence halfpenny. 

Neither would Tommy tell, and it was twopence. 

Tommy would get a surprise on his birthday. 

So would Elspeth get a surprise on her birthday. 

Elspeth would not tell what the surprise was to be, and it was to be agun. 

Tommy also must remain mute, and it was to be a box of dominoes. 

Elspeth did not want dominoes. 

Tommy knew that, but he wanted them. 

Elspeth discovered that guns cost fourpence, and dominoes threepencehalfpenny; it seemed to her, therefore, that Tommy was defrauding her ofa halfpenny. 

Tommy liked her cheek. You got the dominoes for threepence halfpenny, but the price on the box is fivepence, so that Elspeth would really owehim a penny. 

This led to an agonizing scene in which Elspeth wept while Tommy toldher sternly about Reddy. It had become his custom to tell the tale ofReddy when Elspeth was obstreperous. 

Then followed a scene in which Tommy called himself a scoundrel forfrightening his dear Elspeth, and swore that he loved none but her. Result: reconciliation, and agreed, that instead of a gun and dominoes, they should buy a porous plaster. You know the shops where the plastersare to be obtained by great colored bottles in their windows, and, as itwas advisable to find the very best shop, Tommy and Elspeth in theirwanderings came under the influence of the bottles, red, yellow, green, and blue, and color entered into their lives, giving them many deliciousthrills. These bottles are the first poem known to the London child, andyou chemists who are beginning to do without them in your windows shouldbe told that it is a shame. 

In the glamour, then, of the romantic battles walked Tommy and Elspethhand in hand, meeting so many novelties that they might have spared atear for the unfortunate children who sit in nurseries surrounded by allthey ask for, and if the adventures of these two frequently ended in themiddle, they had probably begun another while the sailor-suit boy wasstill holding up his leg to let the nurse put on his little sock. Whilethey wandered, they drew near unwittingly to the enchanted street, towhich the bottles are a colored way, and at last they were in it, butTommy recognized it not; he did not even feel that he was near it, forthere were no outside stairs, no fairies strolling about, it was a shortstreet as shabby as his own. 

But someone had shouted "Dinna haver, lassie; you're blethering!"

Tommy whispered to Elspeth, "Be still; don't speak, " and he gripped herhand tighter and stared at the speaker. He was a boy of ten, dressedlike a Londoner, and his companion had disappeared. Tommy never doubtingbut that he was the sprite of long ago, gripped him by the sleeve. Allthe savings of Elspeth and himself were in his pocket, and yielding toimpulse, as was his way, he thrust the fivepence halfpenny into JamesGloag's hand. The new millionaire gaped, but not at his patron, for thewhy and wherefore of this gift were trifles to James beside thetremendous fact that he had fivepence halfpenny. "Almichty me!" he criedand bolted. Presently he returned, having deposited his money in a safeplace, and his first remark was perhaps the meanest on record. He heldout his hand and said greedily, "Have you ony mair?"

This, you feel certain, must have been the most important event of thatevening, but strange to say, it was not. Before Tommy could answerJames's question, a woman in a shawl had pounced upon him and hurriedhim and Elspeth out of the street. She had been standing at a cornerlooking wistfully at the window blinds behind which folk from Thrumspassed to and fro, hiding her face from people in the street, but gazingeagerly after them. It was Tommy's mother, whose first free act oncoming to London had been to find out that street, and many a time sincethem site had skulked through it or watched it from dark places, neverdaring to disclose herself, but sometimes recognizing familiar faces, sometimes hearing a few words in the old tongue that is harsh andungracious to you, but was so sweet to her, and bearing them away withher beneath her shawl as if they were something warm to lay over hercold heart. 

For a time she upbraided Tommy passionately for not keeping away fromthis street, but soon her hunger for news of Thrums overcame herprudence, and she consented to let him go back if he promised never totell that his mother came from Thrums. "And if ony-body wants to kenyour name, say it's Tommy, but dinna let on that it's Tommy Sandys. "

"Elspeth, " Tommy whispered that night, "I'm near sure there's somethingqueer about my mother and me and you. " But he did not trouble himselfwith wondering what the something queer might be, so engrossed was he inthe new and exciting life that had suddenly opened to him. 

CHAPTER VI

THE ENCHANTED STREET

In Thrums Street, as it ought to have been called, herded at leastone-half of the Thrums folk in London, and they formed a colony, ofwhich the grocer at the corner sometimes said wrathfully that not amember would give sixpence for anything except Bibles or whiskey. In thestreets one could only tell they were not Londoners by their walk, theflagstones having no grip for their feet, or, if they had come southlate in life, by their backs, which they carried at the angle on whichwebs are most easily supported. When mixing with the world they talkedthe English tongue, which came out of them as broad as if it had beensqueezed through a mangle, but when the day's work was done, it was onlya few of the giddier striplings that remained Londoners. For themajority there was no raking the streets after diversion, they spent thehour or two before bed-time in reproducing the life of Thrums. Few ofthem knew much of London except the nearest way between this street andtheir work, and their most interesting visitor was a Presbyterianminister, most of whose congregation lived in much more fashionableparts, but they were almost exclusively servant girls, and whendescending area-steps to visit them he had been challenged often andjocularly by policemen, which perhaps was what gave him a subdued andfurtive appearance. 

The rooms were furnished mainly with articles bought in London, butthese became as like Thrums dressers and seats as their owners couldmake them, old Petey, for instance, cutting the back off a chair becausehe felt most at home on stools. Drawers were used as baking-boards, pails turned into salt-buckets, floors were sanded and hearthstonesca'med, and the popular supper consisted of porter, hot water, andsoaked bread, after every spoonful of which, they groaned pleasantly, and stretched their legs. Sometimes they played at the dambrod, but moreoften they pulled down the blinds on London and talked of Thrums intheir mother tongue. Nevertheless few of them wanted to return to it, and their favorite joke was the case of James Gloag's father, who beinghome-sick flung up his situation and took train for Thrums, but he wasback in London in three weeks. 

Tommy soon had the entry to these homes, and his first news of theinmates was unexpected. It was that they were always sleeping. In broaddaylight he had seen Thrums men asleep on beds, and he was somewhatashamed of them until he heard the excuse. A number of the men fromThrums were bakers, the first emigrant of this trade having drawn othersafter him, and they slept great part of the day to be able to work allnight in a cellar, making nice rolls for rich people. Baker Lumsden, whobecame a friend of Tommy, had got his place in the cellar when hisbrother died, and the brother had succeeded Matthew Croall when he died. 

They die very soon, Tommy learned from Lumsden, generally when they areeight and thirty. Lumsden was thirty-six, and when he died his nephewwas to get the place. The wages are good. 

Then there were several masons, one of whom, like the first baker, hadfound work for all the others, and there were men who had drifted intotrades strange to their birthplace, and there was usually one at leastwho had come to London to "better himself" and had not done it as yet. The family Tommy liked best was the Whamonds, and especially he likedold Petey and young Petey Whamond. They were a large family of women andmen, all of whom earned their living in other streets, except the oldman, who kept house and was a famous knitter of stockings, as probablyhis father had been before him. He was a great one, too, at telling whatthey would be doing at that moment in Thrums, every corner of which wasas familiar to him as the ins and outs of the family hose. Young Peteygot fourteen shillings a week from a hatter, and one of his duties wasto carry as many as twenty band-boxes at a time through fashionablestreets; it is a matter for elation that dukes and statesmen had oftento take the curb-stone, because young Petey was coming. Neverthelessyoung Petey was not satisfied, and never would be (such is the Thrumsnature) until he became a salesman in the shop to which he acted atpresent as fetch and carry, and he used to tell Tommy that this positionwould be his as soon as he could sneer sufficiently at the old hats. When gentlemen come into the shop and buy a new hat, he explained, theyput it on, meaning to tell you to send the old one to their address, andthe art of being a fashionable hatter lies in this: you must be able tocurl your lips so contemptuously at the old hat that they tell youguiltily to keep it, as they have no further use for it. Then theyretire ashamed of their want of moral courage and you have made an extrahalf-guinea. 

"But I aye snort, " young Petey admitted, "and it should be done withouta sound. " When he graduated, he was to marry Martha Spens, who waswaiting for him at Tillyloss. There was a London seamstress whom hepreferred, and she was willing, but it is safest to stick to Thrums. 

When Tommy was among his new friends a Scotch word or phrase oftenescaped his lips, but old Petey and the others thought he had picked itup from them, and would have been content to accept him as a London waifwho lived somewhere round the corner. To trick people so simply, however, is not agreeable to an artist, and he told them his name wasTommy Shovel, and that his old girl walloped him, and his father founddogs, all which inventions Thrums Street accepted as true. What is muchmore noteworthy is that, as he gave them birth, Tommy half believed themalso, being already the best kind of actor. 

Not all the talking was done by Tommy when he came home with news, forhe seldom mentioned a Thrums name, of which his mother could not tellhim something more. But sometimes she did not choose to tell, as when heannounced that a certain Elspeth Lindsay, of the Marywellbrae, was dead. After this she ceased to listen, for old Elspeth had been hergrandmother, and she had now no kin in Thrums. 

"Tell me about the Painted Lady, " Tommy said to her. "Is it true she's awitch?" But Mrs. Sandys had never heard of any woman so called: thePainted Lady must have gone to Thrums after her time. 

"There ain't no witches now, " said Elspeth tremulously; Shovel's motherhad told her so. 

"Not in London, " replied Tommy, with contempt; and this is all that wassaid of the Painted Lady then. It is the first mention of her in thesepages. 

The people Mrs. Sandys wanted to hear of chiefly were Aaron Latta andJean Myles, and soon Tommy brought news of them, but at the same time hehad heard of the Den, and he said first:

"Oh, mother, I thought as you had told me about all the beauty placesin Thrums, and you ain't never told me about the Den. "

His mother heaved a quick breath. "It's the only place I hinna telledyou o', " she said. 

"Had you forget, it mother?"

Forget the Den! Ah, no, Tommy, your mother had not forgotten the Den. 

"And, listen, Elspeth, in the Den there's a bonny spring of water calledthe Cuttle Well. Had you forgot the Cuttle Well, mother?"

No, no; when Jean Myles forgot the names of her children she would stillremember the Cuttle Well. Regardless now of the whispering between Tommyand Elspeth, she sat long over the fire, and it is not difficult tofathom her thoughts. They were of the Den and the Cuttle Well. 

Into the life of every man, and no woman, there comes a moment when helearns suddenly that he is held eligible for marriage. A girl gives himthe jag, and it brings out the perspiration. Of the issue elsewhere ofthis stab with a bodkin let others speak; in Thrums its commonest effectis to make the callant's body take a right angle to his legs, for he hasbeen touched in the fifth button, and he backs away broken-winded. Byand by, however, he is at his work--among the turnip-shoots, say--guffawing and clapping his corduroys, with pauses for uneasymeditation, and there he ripens with the swedes, so that by theback-end of the year he has discovered, and exults to know, that thereward of manhood is neither more nor less than this sensation at theribs. Soon thereafter, or at worst, sooner or later (for by holding outhe only puts the women's dander up), he is led captive to the CuttleWell. This well has the reputation of being the place where it is mosteasily said. 

The wooded ravine called the Den is in Thrums rather than on its westernedge, but is so craftily hidden away that when within a stone's throwyou may give up the search for it; it is also so deep that larks risefrom the bottom and carol overhead, thinking themselves high in theheavens before they are on a level with Nether Drumley's farmland. Inshape it is almost a semicircle, but its size depends on you and themaid. If she be with you, the Den is so large that you must rest hereand there; if you are after her boldly, you can dash to the Cuttle Well, which was the trysting-place, in the time a stout man takes to lace hisboots; if you are of those self-conscious ones who look behind to seewhether jeering blades are following, you may crouch and wriggle yourway onward and not be with her in half an hour. 

Old Petey had told Tommy that, on the whole, the greatest pleasure inlife on a Saturday evening is to put your back against a stile thatleads into the Den and rally the sweethearts as they go by. The lads, when they see you, want to go round by the other stile, but the lasseslike it, and often the sport ends spiritedly with their giving you aclout on the head. 

Through the Den runs a tiny burn, and by its side is a pink path, dyedthis pretty color, perhaps, by the blushes the ladies leave behind them. The burn as it passes the Cuttle Well, which stands higher and just outof sight, leaps in vain to see who is making that cooing noise, and thewell, taking the spray for kisses, laughs all day at Romeo, who cannotget up. Well is a name it must have given itself, for it is only aspring in the bottom of a basinful of water, where it makes about asmuch stir in the world as a minnow jumping at a fly. They say that if aboy, by making a bowl of his hands, should suddenly carry off all thewater, a quick girl could thread her needle at the spring. But it is aspring that will not wait a moment. 

Men who have been lads in Thrums sometimes go back to it from London orfrom across the seas, to look again at some battered little house andfeel the blasts of their bairnhood playing through the old wynds, andthey may take with them a foreign wife. They show her everything, exceptthe Cuttle Well; they often go there alone. The well is sacred to thememory of first love. You may walk from the well to the round cemeteryin ten minutes. It is a common walk for those who go back. 

First love is but a boy and girl playing at the Cuttle Well with abird's egg. They blow it on one summer evening in the long grass, and onthe next it is borne away on a coarse laugh, or it breaks beneath theburden of a tear. And yet--I once saw an aged woman, a widow of manyyears, cry softly at mention of the Cuttle Well. "John was a good man toyou, " I said, for John had been her husband. "He was a leal man to me, "she answered with wistful eyes, "ay, he was a leal man to me--but itwasna John I was thinking o'. You dinna ken what makes me greet sosair, " she added, presently, and though I thought I knew now I waswrong. "It's because I canna mind his name, " she said. 

So the Cuttle Well has its sad memories and its bright ones, and many ofthe bright memories have become sad with age, as so often happens tobeautiful things, but the most mournful of all is the story of AaronLatta and Jean Myles. Beside the well there stood for long a great pinkstone, called the Shoaging, Stone, because it could be rocked like acradle, and on it lovers used to cut their names. Often Aaron Latta andJean Myles sat together on the Shoaging Stone, and then there came atime when it bore these words cut by Aaron Latta:

HERE LIES THE MANHOOD OF AARON LATTA, A FOND SON, A FAITHFUL FRIENDAND A TRUE LOVER, WHO VIOLATED THE FEELINGS OF SEX ON THIS SPOT, AND ISNOW THE SCUNNER OF GOD AND MAN

Tommy's mother now heard these words for the first time, Aaron havingcut them on the stone after she left Thrums, and her head sank at eachline, as if someone had struck four blows at her. 

The stone was no longer at the Cuttle Well. As the easiest way ofobliterating the words, the minister had ordered it to be broken, and ofthe pieces another mason had made stands for watches, one of which wasnow in Thrums Street. 

"Aaron Latta ain't a mason now, " Tommy rattled on: "he is a warper, because he can warp in his own house without looking on mankind orspeaking to mankind. Auld Petey said he minded the day when Aaron Lattawas a merry loon, and then Andrew McVittie said, 'God behears, to thinkthat Aaron Latta was ever a merry man!' and Baker Lumsden said, 'Curseher!'"

His mother shrank in her chair, but said nothing, and Tommy explained:"It was Jean Myles he was cursing; did you ken her, mother? she ruinedAaron Latta's life. "

"Ay, and wha ruined Jean Myles's life?" his mother cried passionately. 

Tommy did not know, but he thought that young Petey might know, foryoung Petey had said: "If I had been Jean Myles I would have spat inAaron's face rather than marry him. "

Mrs. Sandys seemed pleased to hear this. 

"They wouldna tell me what it were she did, " Tommy went on; "they saidit was ower ugly a story, but she were a bad one, for they stoned herout of Thrums. I dinna know where she is now, but she were stoned out ofThrums!"

"No alane?"

"There was a man with her, and his name was--it was--"

His mother clasped her hands nervously while Tommy tried to remember thename. "His name was Magerful Tam, " he said at length. 

"Ay, " said his mother, knitting her teeth, "that was his name. "

"I dinna mind any more, " Tommy concluded. "Yes, I mind they aye calledAaron Latta 'Poor Aaron Latta. '"

"Did they? I warrant, though, there wasna one as said 'Poor JeanMyles'?"

She began the question in a hard voice, but as she said "Poor JeanMyles" something caught in her throat, and she sobbed, painful dry sobs. 

"How could they pity her when she were such a bad one?" Tommy answeredbriskly. 

"Is there none to pity bad ones?" said his sorrowful mother. 

Elspeth plucked her by the skirt. "There's God, ain't there?" she said, inquiringly, and getting no answer she flopped upon her knees, to say ababyish prayer that would sound comic to anybody except to Him to whomit was addressed. 

"You ain't praying for a woman as was a disgrace to Thrums!" Tommycried, jealously, and he was about to raise her by force, when hismother stayed his hand. 

"Let her alane, " she said, with a twitching mouth and filmy eyes. "Lether alane. Let my bairn pray for Jean Myles. "

CHAPTER VII

COMIC OVERTURE TO A TRAGEDY

"Jean Myles bides in London" was the next remarkable news brought byTommy from Thrums Street. "And that ain't all, Magerful Tam is her man;and that ain't all, she has a laddie called Tommy and that ain't all, Petey and the rest has never seen her in London, but she writes lettersto Thrums folks and they writes to Petey and tells him what she said. That ain't all neither, they canna find out what street she bides in, but it's on the bonny side of London, and it's grand, and she wears silkclothes, and her Tommy has velvet trousers, and they have a servant ascalls him 'sir. ' Oh, I would just like to kick him! They often looks forher in the grand streets, but they're angry at her getting on so well, and Martha Scrymgeour said it were enough to make good women like herstop going reg'lar to the kirk. "

"Martha said that!" exclaimed his mother, highly pleased. "Heard youanything of a woman called Esther Auld? Her man does the orra work atthe Tappit Hen public in Thrums. "

"He's head man at the Tappit Hen public now, " answered Tommy; "and shewishes she could find out where Jean Myles bides, so as she could writeand tell her that she is grand too, and has six hair-bottomed chairs. "

"She'll never get the satisfaction, " said his mother triumphantly. "Tellme more about her. "

"She has a laddie called Francie, and he has yellow curls, and shenearly greets because she canna tell Jean Myles that he goes to a schoolfor the children of gentlemen only. She is so mad when she gets a letterfrom Jean Myles that she takes to her bed. "

"Yea, yea!" said Mrs. Sandys cheerily. 

"But they think Jean Myles has been brought low at last, " continuedTommy, "because she hasna wrote for a long time to Thrums, and EstherAuld said that if she knowed for certain as Jean Myles had been broughtlow, she would put a threepenny bit in the kirk plate. "

"I'm glad you've telled me that, laddie, " said Mrs. Sandys, and nextday, unknown to her children, she wrote another letter. She knew she rana risk of discovery, yet it was probable that Tommy would only hear herreferred to in Thrums Street by her maiden name, which he had neverheard from her, and as for her husband he had been Magerful Tam toeveryone. The risk was great, but the pleasure--

Unsuspicious Tommy soon had news of another letter from Jean Myles, which had sent Esther Auld to bed again. 

"Instead of being brought low, " he announced, "Jean Myles is granderthan ever. Her Tommy has a governess. "

"That would be a doush of water in Esther's face?" his mother said, smiling. 

"She wrote to Martha Scrymgeour, " said Tommy, "that it ain't no pleasureto her now to boast as her laddie is at a school for gentlemen'schildren only. But what made her maddest was a bit in Jean Myles'sletter about chairs. Jean Myles has give all her hair-bottomed chairs toa poor woman and buyed a new kind, because hair-bottomed ones ain'tfashionable now. So Esther Auld can't not bear the sight of her chairsnow, though she were windy of them till the letter went to Thrums. "

"Poor Esther!" said Mrs. Sandys gaily. 

"Oh, and I forgot this, mother. Jean Myles's reason for not tellingwhere she bides in London is that she's so grand that she thinks if auldPetey and the rest knowed where the place was they would visit her andboast as they was her friends. Auld Petey stamped wi' rage when he heardthat, and Martha Scrymgeour said, 'Oh, the pridefu' limmer!'"

"Ay, Martha, " muttered Mrs. Sandys, "you and Jean Myles is evens now. "

But the passage that had made them all wince the most was one givingJean's reasons for making no calls in Thrums Street. "You can break itto Martha Scrymgeour's father and mither, " the letter said, "and toPetey Whamond's sisters and the rest as has friends in London, that Ihave seen no Thrums faces here, the low part where they bide not beingfor the like of me to file my feet in. Forby that, I could not let myson mix with their bairns for fear they should teach him the vulgarThrums words and clarty his blue-velvet suit. I'm thinking you have todress your laddie in corduroy, Esther, but you see that would not do formine. So no more at present, and we all join in compliments, and mylittle velvets says he wishes I would send some of his toys to yourlittle corduroys. And so maybe I will, Esther, if you'll tell AaronLatta how rich and happy I am, and if you're feared to say it to hisface, tell it to the roaring farmer of Double Dykes, and he'll pass iton. "

"Did you ever hear of such a woman?" Tommy said indignantly, when he hadrepeated as much of this insult to Thrums as he could remember. 

But it was information his mother wanted. 

"What said they to that bit?" she asked. 

At first, it appears, they limited their comments to "Losh, losh, ""keeps a', " "it cows, " "my eertie, " "ay, ay, " "sal, tal, " "dagont" (themeaning of which is obvious). But by and by they recovered their breath, and then Baker Lamsden said, wonderingly:

"Wha that was at her marriage could have thought it would turn out soweel? It was an eerie marriage that, Petey!"

"Ay, man, you may say so, " old Petey answered. "I was there; I was oneo' them as went in ahint Aaron Latta, and I'm no' likely to forget it. "

"I wasna there, " said the baker, "but I was standing at the door, and Isaw the hearse drive up. "

"What did they mean, mother?" Tommy asked, but she shuddered andreplied, evasively, "Did Martha Scrymgeour say anything?"

"She said such a lot, " he had to confess, "that I dinna mind none on it. But I mind what her father in Thrums wrote to her; he wrote to her thatif she saw a carriage go by, she was to keep her eyes on the ground, forlikely as not Jean Myles would be in it, and she thought as they was alldirt beneath her feet. But Kirsty Ross--who is she?"

"She's Martha's mother. What about her?"

"She wrote at the end of the letter that Martha was to hang on ahint thecarriage and find out where Jean Myles bides. "

"Laddie, that was like Kirsty! Heard you what the roaring farmer o'Double Dykes said?"

No, Tommy had not heard him mentioned. And indeed the roaring farmer ofDouble Dykes had said nothing. He was already lying very quiet on thesouth side of the cemetery. 

Tommy's mother's next question cost her a painful effort. "Did youhear, " she asked, "whether they telled Aaron Latta about the letter?"

"Yes, they telled him, " Tommy replied, "and he said a queer thing; hesaid, 'Jean Myles is dead, I was at her coffining. ' That's what he ayesays when they tell him there's another letter. I wonder what he means, mother?"

"I wonder!" she echoed, faintly. The only pleasure left her was to raisethe envy of those who had hooted her from Thrums, but she paid a pricefor it. Many a stab she had got from the unwitting Tommy as he repeatedthe gossip of his new friends, and she only won their envy at the costof their increased ill-will. They thought she was lording it in London, and so they were merciless; had they known how poor she was and how ill, they would have forgotten everything save that she was a Thrummy likethemselves, and there were few but would have shared their all with her. But she did not believe this, and therefore you may pity her, for thehour was drawing near, and she knew it, when she must appeal to some onefor her children's sake, not for her own. 

No, not for her own. When Tommy was wandering the pretty parts of Londonwith James Gloag and other boys from Thrums Street in search of JeanMyles, whom they were to know by her carriage and her silk dress and herson in blue velvet, his mother was in bed with bronchitis in thewretched room we know of, or creeping to the dancing school, coughingall the way. 

Some of the fits of coughing were very near being her last, but shewrestled with her trouble, seeming at times to stifle it, and then forweeks she managed to go to her work, which was still hers, becauseShovel's old girl did it for her when the bronchitis would not bedefied. Shovel's old slattern gave this service unasked and withoutpayment; if she was thanked it was ungraciously, but she continued to doall she could when there was need; she smelled of gin, but she continuedto do all she could. 

The wardrobe had been put upon its back on the floor, and so convertedinto a bed for Tommy and Elspeth, who were sometimes wakened in thenight by a loud noise, which alarmed them until they learned that it wasonly the man in the next room knocking angrily on the wall because theirmother's cough kept him from sleeping. 

Tommy knew what death was now, and Elspeth knew its name, and both werevaguely aware that it was looking for their mother; but if she couldonly hold out till Hogmanay, Tommy said, they would fleg it out of thehouse. Hogmanay is the mighty winter festival of Thrums, and when itcame round these two were to give their mother a present that would makeher strong. It was not to be a porous plaster. Tommy knew now ofsomething better than that. 

"And I knows too!" Elspeth gurgled, "and I has threepence a'ready, Ihas. "

"Whisht!" said Tommy, in an agony of dread, "she hears you, and she'llguess. We ain't speaking of nothing to give to you at Hogmanay, " he saidto his mother with great cunning. Then he winked at Elspeth and said, with his hand over his mouth, "I hinna twopence!" and Elspeth, about tocry in fright, "Have you spended it?" saw the joke and crowed instead, "Nor yet has I threepence!"

They smirked together, until Tommy saw a change come over Elspeth'sface, which made him run her outside the door. 

"You was a-going to pray!" he said, severely. 

"'Cos it was a lie, Tommy. I does have threepence. "

"Well, you ain't a-going to get praying about it. She would hear yer. "

"I would do it low, Tommy. "

"She would see yer. "

"Oh, Tommy, let me. God is angry with me. "

Tommy looked down the stair, and no one was in sight. "I'll let yer prayhere, " he whispered, "and you can say I have twopence. But be quick, anddo it standing. "

Perhaps Mrs. Sandys had been thinking that when Hogmanay came herchildren might have no mother to bring presents to, for on their returnto the room her eyes followed them woefully, and a shudder ofapprehension shook her torn frame. Tommy gave Elspeth a look that meant"I'm sure there's something queer about her. "

There was also something queer about himself, which at this time had thestrangest gallop. It began one day with a series of morning calls fromShovel, who suddenly popped his head over the top of the door (he wasstanding on the handle), roared "Roastbeef!" in the manner of a railwayporter announcing the name of a station, and then at once withdrew. 

He returned presently to say that vain must be all attempts to wheedlehis secret from him, and yet again to ask irritably why Tommy was notcoming out to hear all about it. Then did Tommy desert Elspeth, and onthe stair Shovel showed him a yellow card with this printed on it:"S. R. J. C. --Supper Ticket;" and written beneath, in a lady's hand: "AdmitJoseph Salt. " The letters, Shovel explained, meant Society for thesomethink of Juvenile Criminals, and the toffs what ran it got hold ofyou when you came out of quod. Then if you was willing to repent theywrote down your name and the place what you lived at in a book, and oneof them came to see yer and give yer a ticket for the blow-out night. This was blow-out night, and that were Shovel's ticket. He had bought itfrom Hump Salt for fourpence. What you get at the blow-out wasroast-beef, plum-duff, and an orange; but when Hump saw the fourpence hecould not wait. 

A favor was asked of Tommy. Shovel had been told by Hump that it was thecustom of the toffs to sit beside you and question you about yourcrimes, and lacking the imagination that made Tommy such an ornament tothe house, the chances were that he would flounder in his answers andbe ejected. Hump had pointed this out to him after pocketing thefourpence. Would Tommy, therefore, make up things for him to say;reward, the orange. 

This was a proud moment for Tommy, as Shovel's knowledge of crime wasmuch more extensive than his own, though they had both studied it in thepictures of a lively newspaper subscribed to by Shovel, senior. Hebecame patronizing at once and rejected the orange as insufficient. 

Then suppose, after he got into the hall, Shovel dropped his ticket outat the window; Tommy could pick it up, and then it would admit him also. 

Tommy liked this, but foresaw a danger: the ticket might be taken fromShovel at the door, just as they took them from you at that singingthing in the church he had attended with young Petey. 

So help Shovel's davy, there was no fear of this. They were superiortoffs, what trusted to your honor. 

Would Shovel swear to this?

He would. 

But would he swear dagont?

He swore dagont; and then Tommy had him. As he was so sure of it, hecould not object to Tommy's being the one who dropped the ticket out atthe window?

Shovel did object for a time, but after a wrangle he gave up the ticket, intending to take it from Tommy when primed with the necessary tale. Sothey parted until evening, and Tommy returned to Elspeth, secretive butelated. For the rest of the day he was in thought, now waggling his headsmugly over some dark, unutterable design and again looking a littlescared. In growing alarm she watched his face, and at last she slippedupon her knees, but he had her up at once and said, reproachfully:

"It were me as teached yer to pray, and now yer prays for me! That'sfine treatment!"

Nevertheless, after his mother's return, just before he stole out tojoin Shovel, he took Elspeth aside and whispered to her, nervously:

"You can pray for me if you like, for, oh, Elspeth; I'm thinking as I'llneed it sore!" And sore he needed it before the night was out. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE BOY WITH TWO MOTHERS

"I love my dear father and my dear mother and all the dear little kidsat 'ome. You are a kind laidy or gentleman. I love yer. I will never doit again, so help me bob. Amen. "

This was what Shovel muttered to himself again and again as the two boysmade their way across the lamp-lit Hungerford Bridge, and Tommy askedhim what it meant. 

"My old gal learned me that; she's deep, " Shovel said, wiping the wordsoff his mouth with his sleeve. 

"But you got no kids at 'ome!" remonstrated Tommy. (Ameliar was now inservice. )

Shovel turned on him with the fury of a mother protecting her young. "Don't you try for to knock none on it out, " he cried, and again fella-mumbling. 

Said Tommy, scornfully: "If you says it all out at one bang you'll bedone at the start. "

Shovel sighed. 

"And you should blubber when yer says it, " added Tommy, who could laughor cry merely because other people were laughing or crying, or even withless reason, and so naturally that he found it more difficult to stopthan to begin. Shovel was the taller by half a head, and irresistiblewith his fists, but to-night Tommy was master. 

"You jest stick to me, Shovel, " he said airily. "Keep a grip on my hand, same as if yer was Elspeth. "

"But what was we copped for, Tommy?" entreated humble Shovel. 

Tommy asked him if he knew what a butler was, and Shovel remembered, confusedly, that there had been a portrait of a butler in his father'snews-sheet. 

"Well, then, " said Tommy, inspired by this same source, "there's a rooma butler has, and it is a pantry, so you and me we crawled through thewinder and we opened the door to the gang. You and me was copped. Theycatched you below the table and me stabbing the butler. "

"It was me what stabbed the butler, " Shovel interposed, jealously. 

"How could you do it, Shovel?"

"With a knife, I tell yer!"

"Why, you didn't have no knife, " said Tommy, impatiently. 

This crushed Shovel, but he growled sulkily:

"Well, I bit him in the leg. "

"Not you, " said selfish Tommy. "You forgets about repenting, and if Ilet yer bite him, you would brag about it. It's safer without, Shovel. "

Perhaps it was. "How long did I get in quod, then, Tommy?"

"Fourteen days. "

"So did you?" Shovel said, with quick anxiety. 

"I got a month, " replied Tommy, firmly. 

Shovel roared a word that would never have admitted him to the hall. Then, "I'm as game as you, and gamer, " he whined. 

"But I'm better at repenting. I tell yer, I'll cry when I'm repenting. "Tommy's face lit up, and Shovel could not help saying, with a curiouslook at it:

"You--you ain't like any other cove I knows, " to which Tommy replied, also in an awe-struck voice:

"I'm so queer, Shovel, that when I thinks 'bout myself I'm--I'msometimes near feared. "

"What makes your face for to shine like that? Is it thinking about theblow-out?"

No, it was hardly that, but Tommy could not tell what it was. He and thesaying about art for art's sake were in the streets that night, lookingfor each other. 

The splendor of the brightly lighted hall, which was situated in one ofthe meanest streets of perhaps the most densely populated quarter inLondon, broke upon the two boys suddenly and hit each in his vital part, tapping an invitation on Tommy's brain-pan and taking Shovelcoquettishly in the stomach. Now was the moment when Shovel meant tostrip Tommy of the ticket, but the spectacle in front dazed him, and hestopped to tell a vegetable barrow how he loved his dear father and hisdear mother, and all the dear kids at home. Then Tommy darted forwardand was immediately lost in the crowd surging round the steps of thehall. 

Several gentlemen in evening dress stood framed in the lighted doorway, shouting: "Have your tickets in your hands and give them up as you passin. " They were fine fellows, helping in a splendid work, and theirsociety did much good, though it was not so well organized as othersthat have followed in its steps; but Shovel, you may believe, was in nomood to attend to them. He had but one thought: that the traitor Tommywas doubtless at that moment boring his way toward them, underground, as it were, and "holding his ticket in his hand. " Shovel dived into therabble and was flung back upside down. Falling with his arms round afull-grown man, he immediately ran up him as if he had been a lamp-post, and was aloft just sufficiently long to see Tommy give up the ticket andsaunter into the hall. 

The crowd tried at intervals to rush the door. It was mainly composed ofragged boys, but here and there were men, women, and girls, who cameinto view for a moment under the lights as the mob heaved and went roundand round like a boiling potful. Two policemen joined theticket-collectors, and though it was a good-humored gathering, the airwas thick with such cries as these:

"I lorst my ticket, ain't I telling yer? Gar on, guv'nor, lemme in!"

"Oh, crumpets, look at Jimmy! Jimmy never done nothink, your honor;he's a himposter"'

"I'm the boy what kicked the peeler. Hie, you toff with the choker, ain't I to step up?"

"Tell yer, I'm a genooine criminal, I am. If yer don't lemme in I'llhave the lawr on you. "

"Let a poor cove in as his father drownded hisself for his country. "

"What air yer torking about? Warn't I in larst year, and the cuss asruns the show, he says to me, 'Allers welcome, ' he says. None on yoursarse, Bobby. I demands to see the cuss what runs--"

"Jest keeping on me out 'cos I ain't done nothin'. Ho, this is aencouragement to honesty, I don't think. "

Mighty in tongue and knee and elbow was an unknown knight, everconspicuous; it might be but by a leg waving for one brief moment in theair. He did not want to go in, would not go in though they went on theirblooming knees to him; he was after a viper of the name of Tommy. Halfan hour had not tired him, and he was leading another assault, when amagnificent lady, such as you see in wax-works, appeared in thevestibule and made some remark to a policeman, who then shouted:

"If so there be hany lad here called Shovel, he can step forrard. "

A dozen lads stepped forward at once, but a flail drove them right andleft, and the unknown knight had mounted the parapet amid a shower ofexecrations. "If you are the real Shovel, " the lady said to him, "youcan tell me how this proceeds, 'I love my dear father and my dearmother--' Go on. "

Shovel obeyed, tremblingly. "And all the dear little kids at 'ome. Youare a kind laidy or gentleman. I love yer. I will never do it again, sohelp me bob. Amen. "

"Charming!" chirped the lady, and down pleasant-smelling aisles she ledhim, pausing to drop an observation about Tommy to a clergyman: "So gladI came; I have discovered the most delightful little monster calledTommy. " The clergyman looked after her half in sadness, halfsarcastically; he was thinking that he had discovered a monster also. 

At present the body of the hall was empty, but its sides were livelywith gorging boys, among whom ladies moved, carrying platefuls of goodthings. Most of them were sweet women, fighting bravely for these boys, and not at all like Shovel's patroness, who had come for a sensation. Tommy falling into her hands, she got it. 

Tommy, who had a corner to himself, was lolling in it like a littleking, and he not only ordered roast-beef for the awe-struck Shovel, butsent the lady back for salt. Then he whispered, exultantly: "Quick, Shovel, feel my pocket" (it bulged with two oranges), "now the insidepocket" (plum-duff), "now my waistcoat pocket" (threepence); "look in mymouth" (chocolates). 

When Shovel found speech he began excitedly: "I love my dear father andmy dear--"

"Gach!" said Tommy, interrupting him contemptuously. "Repenting ain't nogo, Shovel. Look at them other coves; none of them has got no money, norfull pockets, and I tell you, it's 'cos they has repented. "

"Gar on!"

"It's true, I tells you. That lady as is my one, she's called herladyship, and she don't care a cuss for boys as has repented, " which ofcourse was a libel, her ladyship being celebrated wherever paragraphspenetrate for having knitted a pair of stockings for the deserving poor. 

"When I saw that, " Tommy continued, brazenly, "I bragged 'stead ofrepenting, and the wuss I says I am, she jest says, 'You littlemonster, ' and gives me another orange. "

"Then I'm done for, " Shovel moaned, "for I rolled off that 'bout lovingmy dear father and my dear mother, blast 'em, soon as I seen her. "

He need not let that depress him. Tommy had told her he would say it, but that it was all flam. 

Shovel thought the ideal arrangement would be for him to eat and leavethe torking to Tommy. Tommy nodded. "I'm full, at any rate, " he said, struggling with his waistcoat. "Oh, Shovel, I _am_ full!"

Her ladyship returned, and the boys held by their contract, but of thedark character Tommy seems to have been, let not these pages bear therecord. Do you wonder that her ladyship believed him? On this point wemust fight for our Tommy. You would have believed him. Even Shovel, whoknew, between the bites, that it was all whoppers, listened as to hisfather reading aloud. This was because another boy present half believedit for the moment also. When he described the eerie darkness of thebutler's pantry, he shivered involuntarily, and he shut his eyesonce--ugh!--that was because he saw the blood spouting out of thebutler. He was turning up his trousers to show the mark of the butler'sboot on his leg when the lady was called away, and then Shovel shookhim, saying: "Darn yer, doesn't yer know as it's all your eye?" whichbrought Tommy to his senses with a jerk. 

"Sure's death, Shovel, " he whispered, in awe, "I was thinking I done it, every bit!"

Had her ladyship come back she would have found him a different boy. Heremembered now that Elspeth, for whom he had filled his pockets, waspraying for him; he could see her on her knees, saying, "Oh, God, I'sepraying for Tommy, " and remorse took hold of him and shook him on hisseat. He broke into one hysterical laugh and then immediately began tosob. This was the moment when Shovel should have got him quietly out ofthe hall. 

Members of the society discussing him afterwards with bated breath saidthat never till they died could they forget her ladyship's face while hedid it. "But did you notice the boy's own face? It was positivelyangelic. " "Angelic, indeed; the little horror was intoxicated. " No, there was a doctor present, and according to him it was the meal thathad gone to the boy's head; he looked half starved. As for theclergyman, he only said: "We shall lose her subscription; I am glad ofit. "

Yes, Tommy was intoxicated, but with a beverage not recognized by thefaculty. What happened was this: Supper being finished, the time hadcome for what Shovel called the jawing, and the boys were now musteredin the body of the hall. The limited audience had gone to the gallery, and unluckily all eyes except Shovel's were turned to the platform. Shovel was apprehensive about Tommy, who was not exactly sobbing now;but strange, uncontrollable sounds not unlike the winding up of a clockproceeded from his throat; his face had flushed; there was a purposefullook in his usually unreadable eye; his fingers were fidgeting on theboard in front of him, and he seemed to keep his seat with difficulty. 

The personage who was to address the boys sat on the platform withclergymen, members of committee, and some ladies, one of them Tommy'spatroness. Her ladyship saw Tommy and smiled to him, but obtained noresponse. She had taken a front seat, a choice that she must haveregretted presently. 

The chairman rose and announced that the. Rev. Mr. ----would open theproceedings with prayer. The Rev. Mr. ---- rose to pray in a loud voicefor the waifs in the body of the hall. At the same moment rose Tommy, and began to pray in a squeaky voice for the people on the platform. 

He had many Biblical phrases, mostly picked up in Thrums Street, andwhat he said was distinctly heard in the stillness, the clergyman beingsuddenly bereft of speech. "Oh, " he cried, "look down on them onesthere, for, oh, they are unworthy of Thy mercy, and, oh, the worstsinner is her ladyship, her sitting there so brazen in the black frockwith yellow stripes, and the worse I said I were the better pleased wereshe. Oh, make her think shame for tempting of a poor boy, for gettingsuffer little children, oh, why cumbereth she the ground, oh--"

He was in full swing before any one could act. Shovel having failed tohold him in his seat, had done what was perhaps the next best thing, gotbeneath it himself. The arm of the petrified clergyman was stillextended, as if blessing his brother's remarks; the chairman seemed tobe trying to fling his right hand at the culprit; but her ladyship, after the first stab, never moved a muscle. Thus for nearly half aminute, when the officials woke up, and squeezing past many knees, seized Tommy by the neck and ran him out of the building. All down theaisle he prayed hysterically, and for some time afterwards, to Shovel, who had been cast forth along with him. 

At an hour of that night when their mother was asleep, and it is to behoped they were the only two children awake in London, Tommy sat upsoftly in the wardrobe to discover whether Elspeth was still praying forhim. He knew that she was on the floor in a night-gown some twelve sizestoo large for her, but the room was as silent and black as the world hehad just left by taking his fingers from his ears and the blankets offhis face. 

"I see you, " he said mendaciously, and in a guarded voice, so as not towaken his mother, from whom he had kept his escapade. This had not thedesired effect of drawing a reply from Elspeth, and he tried bluster. 

"You needna think as I'll repent, you brat, so there! What?

"I wish I hadna told you about it!" Indeed, he had endeavored not to doso, but pride in his achievement had eventually conquered prudence. 

"Reddy would have laughed, she would, and said as I was a wonder. Reddywas the kind I like. What?

"You ate up the oranges quick, and the plum-duff too, so you should prayfor yoursel' as well as for me. It's easy to say as you didna know how Igot them till after you eated them, but you should have found out. What?

"Do you think it was for my own self as I done it? I jest done it to getthe oranges and plum-duff to you, I did, and the threepence too. Eh?Speak, you little besom. 

"I tell you as I did repent in the hall. I was greeting, and I neverknowed I put up that prayer till Shovel told me on it. We was sitting inthe street by that time. "

This was true. On leaving the hall Tommy had soon dropped to the coldground and squatted there till he came to, when he remembered nothing ofwhat had led to his expulsion. Like a stream that has run into a pondand only finds itself again when it gets out, he was but a continuationof the boy who when last conscious of himself was in the corner cryingremorsefully over his misdeed; and in this humility he would havereturned to Elspeth had no one told him of his prayer. Shovel, however, was at hand, not only to tell him all about it, but to applaud, and homestrutted Tommy chuckling. 

"I am sleeping, " he next said to Elspeth, "so you may as well come toyour bed. "

He imitated the breathing of a sleeper, but it was the only sound to beheard in London, and he desisted fearfully. "Come away, Elspeth, " hesaid, coaxingly, for he was very fond of her and could not sleep whileshe was cold and miserable. 

Still getting no response he pulled his body inch by inch out of thebed-clothes, and holding his breath, found the floor with his feetstealthily, as if to cheat the wardrobe into thinking that he was stillin it. But his reason was to discover whether Elspeth had fallen asleepon her knees without her learning that he cared to know. Almostnoiselessly he worked himself along the floor, but when he stopped tobring his face nearer hers, there was such a creaking of his joints thatif Elspeth did not hear it she--she must be dead! His knees played whackon the floor. 

Elspeth only gasped once, but he heard, and remained beside her for aminute, so that she might hug him if such was her desire; and she putout her hand in the darkness so that his should not have far to travelalone if it chanced to be on the way to her. Thus they sat on theirknees, each aghast at the hard-heartedness of the other. 

Tommy put the blankets over the kneeling figure, and presently announcedfrom the wardrobe that if he died of cold before repenting the blame ofkeeping him out of heaven would be Elspeth's. But the last word wasmuffled, for the blankets were tucked about him as he spoke, and twomotherly little arms gave him the embrace they wanted to withhold. Foiled again, he kicked off the bed-clothes and said: "I tell yer I wantsto die!"

This terrified both of them, and he added, quickly:

"Oh, God, if I was sure I were to die to-night I would repent at once. "It is the commonest prayer in all languages, but down on her kneesslipped Elspeth again, and Tommy, who felt that it had done him good, said indignantly: "Surely that is religion. What?"

He lay on his face until he was frightened by a noise louder thanthunder in the daytime--the scraping of his eyelashes on the pillow. Then he sat up in the wardrobe and fired his three last shots. 

"Elspeth Sandys, I'm done with yer forever, I am. I'll take care on yer, but I'll never kiss yer no more. 

"When yer boasts as I'm your brother I'll say you ain't. I'll tell mymother about Reddy the morn, and syne she'll put you to the door smart. 

"When you are a grown woman I'll buy a house to yer, but you'll havejest to bide in it by your lonely self, and I'll come once a year tospeir how you are, but I won't come in, I won't--I'll jest cry up thestair. "

The effect of this was even greater than he had expected, for now twowere in tears instead of one, and Tommy's grief was the moreheartrending, he was so much better at everything than Elspeth. Hejumped out of the wardrobe and ran to her, calling her name, and he puthis arms round her cold body, and the dear mite, forgetting how cruellyhe had used her, cried, "Oh, tighter, Tommy, tighter; you didn't notmean it, did yer? Oh, you is terrible fond on me, ain't yer? And youwon't not tell my mother 'bout Reddy, will yer, and you is no done wi'me forever, is yer? and you won't not put me in a house by myself, willyer? Oh, Tommy, is that the tightest you can do?"

And Tommy made it tighter, vowing, "I never meant it; I was a bad un tosay it. If Reddy were to come back wanting for to squeeze you out, Iwould send her packing quick, I would. I tell yer what, I'll kiss youwith folk looking on, I will, and no be ashamed to do it, and if Shovelis one of them what sees me, and he puts his finger to his nose, I'llblood the mouth of him, I will, dagont!"

Then he prayed for forgiveness, and he could always pray morebeautifully than Elspeth. Even she was satisfied with the way he did it, and so, alack, was he. 

"But you forgot to tell, " she said fondly, when once more they were inthe wardrobe together--"you forgot to tell as you filled your pocketswif things to me. "

"I didn't forget, " Tommy replied modestly. "I missed it out, on purpose, I did, 'cos I was sure God knows on it without my telling him, and Ithought he would be pleased if I didn't let on as I knowed it was goodof me. "

"Oh, Tommy, " cried Elspeth, worshipping him, "I couldn't have donedthat, I couldn't!" She was barely six, and easily taken in, but shewould save him from himself if she could. 

CHAPTER IX

AULD LANG SYNE

What to do with her ladyship's threepence? Tommy finally decided to dropit into the charity-box that had once contained his penny. They held itover the slit together, Elspeth almost in tears because it was such alarge sum to give away, but Tommy looking noble he was so proud ofhimself; and when he said "Three!" they let go. 

There followed days of excitement centred round their money-box. Shovelintroduced Tommy to a boy what said as after a bit you forget how muchmoney was in your box, and then when you opened it, oh, Lor'! there ismore than you thought, so he and Elspeth gave this plan a week's trial, affecting not to know how much they had gathered, but when they unlockedit, the sum was still only eightpence; so then Tommy told the liar tocome on, and they fought while the horrified Elspeth prayed, and Tommylicked him, a result due to one of the famous Thrums left-handers thenon exhibition in that street for the first time, as taught the victor byPetey Whamond the younger, late of Tillyloss. 

The money did come in, once in spate (twopence from Bob in twenty-fourhours), but usually so slowly that they saw it resting on the way, andthen, when they listened intently, they could hear the thud of Hogmanay. The last halfpenny was a special aggravation, strolling about, just outof reach, with all the swagger of sixpence, but at last Elspeth had it, and after that, the sooner Hogmanay came the better. 

They concealed their excitement under too many wrappings, but theirmother suspected nothing. When she was dressing on the morning ofHogmanay, her stockings happened to be at the other side of the room, and they were such a long way off that she rested on the way to them. Atthe meagre breakfast she said what a heavy teapot that was, and Tommythought this funny, but the salt had gone from the joke when heremembered it afterwards. And when she was ready to go off to her workshe hesitated at the door, looking at her bed and from it to herchildren as if in two minds, and then went quietly downstairs. 

The distance seems greater than ever to-day, poor woman, and you stoplonger at the corners, where rude men jeer at you. Scarcely can you pushopen the door of the dancing-school or lift the pail; the fire has goneout, you must again go on your knees before it, and again the smokemakes you cough. Gaunt slattern, fighting to bring up the phlegm, was itreally you for whom another woman gave her life, and thought it a richreward to get dressing you once in your long clothes, when she calledyou her beautiful, and smiled, and smiling, died? Well, well; but takecourage, Jean Myles. The long road still lies straight up hill, but yourclimbing is near an end. Shrink from the rude men no more, they are soonto forget you, so soon! It is a heavy door, but soon you will havepushed it open for the last time. The girls will babble still, but notto you, not of you. Cheer up, the work is nearly done. Her beautiful!Come, beautiful, strength for a few more days, and then you can leavethe key of the leaden door behind you, and on your way home you may kissyour hand joyously to the weary streets, for you are going to die. 

Tommy and Elspeth had been to the foot of the stair many times to lookfor her before their mother came back that evening, yet when shere-entered her home, behold, they were sitting calmly on the fender asif this were a day like yesterday or to-morrow, as if Tommy had not beenon a business visit to Thrums Street, as if the hump on the bed did notmean that a glorious something was hidden under the coverlet. True, Elspeth would look at Tommy imploringly every few minutes, meaning thatshe could not keep it in much longer, and then Tommy would mutter theone word "Bell" to remind her that it was against the rules to beginbefore the Thrums eight-o'clock bell rang. They also wiled away the timeof waiting by inviting each other to conferences at the window wherethese whispers passed--

"She ain't got a notion, Tommy. "

"Dinna look so often at the bed. "

"If I could jest get one more peep at it!"

"No, no; but you can put your hand on the top of it as you go by. "

The artfulness of Tommy lured his unsuspecting mother into telling howthey would be holding Hogmanay in Thrums to-night, how cartloads ofkebbock cheeses had been rolling into the town all the livelong day ("Doyou hear them, Elspeth?"), and in dark closes the children were alreadygathering, with smeared faces and in eccentric dress, to sally forth asguisers at the clap of eight, when the ringing of a bell lets Hogmanayloose. ("You see, Elspeth?") Inside the houses men and women werepreparing (though not by fasting, which would have been such a good waythat it is surprising no one ever thought of it) for a series of visits, at every one of which they would be offered a dram and kebbock andbannock, and in the grander houses "bridies, " which are a sublime kindof pie. 

Tommy had the audacity to ask what bridies were like. And he could notdress up and be a guiser, could he, mother, for the guisers sang a song, and he did not know the words? What a pity they could not get bridies tobuy in London, and learn the song and sing it. But of course they couldnot! ("Elspeth, if you tumble off the fender again, she'll guess. ")

Such is a sample of Tommy, but Elspeth was sly also, if in a smallerway, and it was she who said: "There ain't nothin' in the bed, is there, Tommy!" This duplicity made her uneasy, and she added, behind her teeth, "Maybe there is, " and then, "O God, I knows as there is. "

But as the great moment drew near there were no more questions; twochildren were staring at the clock and listening intently for the pealof a bell nearly five hundred miles away. 

The clock struck. "Whisht! It's time, Elspeth! They've begun! Come on!"

A few minutes afterwards Mrs. Sandys was roused by a knock at the door, followed by the entrance of two mysterious figures. The female wore aboy's jacket turned outside in, the male a woman's bonnet and a shawl, and to make his disguise the more impenetrable he carried a poker in hisright hand. They stopped in the middle of the floor and began to recite, rather tremulously, Get up, good wife, and binna sweir, And deal your bread to them that's here. For the time will come when you'll be dead, And then you'll need neither ale nor bread. 

Mrs. Sandys had started, and then turned piteously from them; but whenthey were done she tried to smile, and said, with forced gayety, thatshe saw they were guisers, and it was a fine night, and would they takea chair. The male stranger did so at once, but the female said, ratheranxiously: "You are sure as you don't know who we is?" Their hostessshook her head, and then he of the poker offered her three guesses, adaring thing to do, but all went well, for her first guess was Shoveland his old girl; second guess, Before and After; third guess, NapoleonBuonaparte and the Auld Licht minister. At each guess the smaller of theintruders clapped her hands gleefully, but when, with the third, she wasunmuzzled, she putted with her head at Mrs. Sandys and hugged her, screaming, "It ain't none on them; it's jest me, mother, it's Elspeth!"and even while their astounded hostess was asking could it be true, themale conspirator dropped his poker noisily (to draw attention tohimself) and stood revealed as Thomas Sandys. 

Wasn't it just like Thrums, wasn't it just the very, very same? Ah, itwas wonderful, their mother said, but, alas, there was one thingwanting: she had no Hogmanay to give the guisers. 

Had she not? What a pity, Elspeth! What a pity, Tommy! What might thatbe in the bed, Elspeth? It couldn't not be their Hogmanay, could it, Tommy? If Tommy was his mother he would look and see. If Elspeth was hermother she would look and see. 

Her curiosity thus cunningly aroused, Mrs. Sandys raised the coverletof the bed and--there were three bridies, an oatmeal cake, and a hunk ofkebbock. "And they comed from Thrums!" cried Elspeth, while Tommy cried, "Petey and the others got a lot sent from Thrums, and I bought thebridies from them, and they gave me the bannock and the kebbock fornuthin'!" Their mother did not utter the cry of rapture which Tommyexpected so confidently that he could have done it for her; instead, shepulled her two children toward her, and the great moment was like to bea tearful rather than an ecstatic one, for Elspeth had begun to whimper, and even Tommy--but by a supreme effort he shouldered reality to thedoor. 

"Is this my Hogmanay, guidwife?" he asked in the nick of time, and thesituation thus being saved, the luscious feast was partaken of, theguisers listening solemnly as each bite went down. They also took careto address their hostess as "guidwife" or "mistress, " affecting not tohave met her lately, and inquiring genially after the health of herselfand family. "How many have you?" was Tommy's masterpiece, and sheanswered in the proper spirit, but all the time she was hiding greatpart of her bridie beneath her apron, Hogmanay having come too late forher. 

Everything was to be done exactly as they were doing it in ThrumsStreet, and so presently Tommy made a speech; it was the speech of oldPetey, who had rehearsed it several times before him. "Here's a toast, "said Tommy, standing up and waving his arms, "here's a toast that we'lldrink in silence, one that maun have sad thoughts at the back o't tosome of us, but one, my friends, that keeps the hearts of Thrums folkgreen and ties us all thegither, like as it were wi' twine. It's to allthem, wherever they may be the night, wha' have sat as lads and lassesat the Cuttle Well. "

To one of the listeners it was such an unexpected ending that a faintcry broke from her, which startled the children, and they sat in silencelooking at her. She had turned her face from them, but her arm wasextended as if entreating Tommy to stop. 

"That was the end, " he said, at length, in a tone of expostulation;"it's auld Petey's speech. "

"Are you sure, " his mother asked wistfully, "that Petey was to say _all_them as have sat at the Cuttle Well? He made no exception, did he?"

Tommy did not know what exception was, but he assured her that he hadrepeated the speech, word for word. For the remainder of the evening shesat apart by the fire, while her children gambled for crack-nuts, youngPetey having made a teetotum for Tommy and taught him what the letterson it meant. Their mirth rang faintly in her ear, and they scarcelyheard her fits of coughing; she was as much engrossed in her ownthoughts as they in theirs, but hers were sad and theirs werejocund--Hogmanay, like all festivals, being but a bank from which wecan only draw what we put in. So an hour or more passed, after whichTommy whispered to Elspeth: "Now's the time; they're at it now, " andeach took a hand of their mother, and she woke from her reverie to findthat they had pulled her from her chair and were jumping up and down, shouting, excitedly, "For Auld Lang Syne, my dear, for Auld Lang Syne, Auld Lang Syne, my dear, Auld Lang Syne. " She tried to sing the wordswith her children, tried to dance round with them, tried to smile, but--

It was Tommy who dropped her hand first. "Mother, " he cried, "your faceis wet, you're greeting sair, and you said you had forgot the way. "

"I mind it now, man, I mind it now, " she said, standing helplessly inthe middle of the room. 

Elspeth nestled against her, crying, "My mother was thinking aboutThrums, wasn't she, Tommy?"

"I was thinking about the part o't I'm most awid to be in, " the poorwoman said, sinking back into her chair. 

"It's the Den, " Tommy told Elspeth. 

"It's the Square, " Elspeth told Tommy. 

"No, it's Monypenny. "

"No, it's the Commonty. "

But it was none of these places. "It's the cemetery, " the woman said, "it's the hamely, quiet cemetery on the hillside. Oh, there's mony abonny place in my nain bonny toon, but there's nain so hamely like asthe cemetery. " She sat shaking in the chair, and they thought she was tosay no more, but presently she rose excitedly, and with a vehemence thatmade them shrink from her she cried: "I winna lie in London! tell AaronLatta that; I winna lie in London!"

For a few more days she trudged to her work, and after that she seldomleft her bed. She had no longer strength to coax up the phlegm, and adoctor brought in by Shovel's mother warned her that her days were nearan end. Then she wrote her last letter to Thrums, Tommy and Elspethstanding by to pick up the pen when it fell from her feeble hand, and inthe intervals she told them that she was Jean Myles. 

"And if I die and Aaron hasna come, " she said, "you maun just gang toauld Petey and tell him wha you are. "

"But how can you be Jean Myles?" asked astounded Tommy. "You ain't agrand lady and--"

His mother looked at Elspeth. "No' afore her, " she besought him; butbefore he set off to post the letter she said: "Come canny into my bedthe night, when Elspeth 's sleeping, and syne I'll tell you all there isto tell about Jean Myles. "

"Tell me now whether the letter is to Aaron Latta?"

"It's for him, " she said, "but it's no' to him. I'm feared he might burnit without opening it if he saw my write on the cover, so I've wrote itto a friend of his wha will read it to him. "

"And what's inside, mother?" the boy begged, inquisitively. "It must bequeer things if they'll bring Aaron Latta all the way from Thrums. "

"There's but little in it, man, " she said, pressing her hand hard uponher chest. "It's no muckle mair than 'Auld Lang Syne, my dear, for AuldLang Syne. '"

CHAPTER X

THE FAVORITE OF THE LADIES

That night the excited boy was wakened by a tap-tap, as of someoneknocking for admittance, and stealing to his mother's side, he cried, "Aaron Latta has come; hearken to him chapping at the door!"

It was only the man through the wall, but Mrs. Sandys took Tommy intobed with her, and while Elspeth slept, told him the story of her life. She coughed feebly now, but the panting of the dying is a sound that nowalls can cage, and the man continued to remonstrate at intervals. Tommynever recalled his mother's story without seeming, through the darknessin which it was told, to hear Elspeth's peaceful breathing and the angrytap-tap on the wall. 

"I'm sweer to tell it to you, " she began, "but tell I maun, for thoughit's just a warning to you and Elspeth no' to be like them that broughtyou into the world, it's all I have to leave you. Ay, and there'sanother reason: you may soon be among folk wha ken but half the storyand put a waur face on it than I deserve. "

She had spoken calmly, but her next words were passionate. 

"They thought I was fond o'him, " she cried; "oh, they were blind, blind! Frae the first I could never thole the sight o' him. 

"Maybe that's no' true, " she had to add. "I aye kent he was a black, butyet I couldna put him out o' my head; he took sudden grips o' me like anevil thought. I aye ran frae him, and yet I sair doubt that I wentlooking for him too. "

"Was it Aaron Latta?" Tommy asked. 

"No, it was your father. The first I ever saw of him was at Cullew, fourlang miles frae Thrums. There was a ball after the market, and EstherAuld and me went to it. We went in a cart, and I was wearing a pinkprint, wi' a white bonnet, and blue ribbons that tied aneath the chin. Ihad a shawl abune, no' to file them. There wasna a more innocent lassiein Thrums, man, no, nor a happier one; for Aaron Latta--Aaron came halfthe way wi' us, and he was hauding my hand aneath the shawl. He hadnaspeired me at that time, but I just kent. 

"It was an auld custom to choose a queen of beauty at the ball, but thatnight the men couldna 'gree wha should be judge, and in the tail-endthey went out thegither to look for one, determined to mak' judge o' thefirst man they met, though they should have to tear him off a horse andbring him in by force. You wouldna believe to look at me now, man, thatI could have had any thait o' being made queen, but I was fell bonny, and I was as keen as the rest. How simple we were, all pretending toone another that we didna want to be chosen! Esther Auld said she wouldhod ahint the tent till a queen was picked, and at the very time shesaid it, she was in a palsy, through no being able to decide whether shelooked better in her shell necklace or wanting it. She put it on in theend, and syne when we heard the tramp o' the men, her mind misgave her, and she cried: 'For the love o' mercy, keep them out till I get it offagain!' So we were a' laughing when they came in. 

"Laddie, it was your father and Elspeth's that they brought wi' them, and he was a stranger to us, though we kent something about him aforethe night was out. He was finely put on, wi' a gold chain, and a freew'y of looking at women, and if you mind o' him ava, you ken that he wasfair and buirdly, wi' a full face, and aye a laugh ahint it. I tell ye, man, that when our een met, and I saw that triumphing laugh ahint hisface, I took a fear of him, as if I had guessed the end. 

"For years and years after that night I dreamed it ower again, and aye Iheard mysel' crying to God to keep that man awa' frae me. But I doubt Iput up no sic prayer at the time; his masterful look fleid me, and yetit drew me against my will, and I was trembling wi' pride as well asfear when he made me queen. We danced thegither and fought thegither a'through the ball, and my will was no match for his, and the worst o'twas I had a kind o' secret pleasure in being mastered. 

"Man, he kissed me. Lads had kissed me afore that night, but never sincefirst I went wi' Aaron Latta to the Cuttle Well. Aaron hadna done it, but I was never to let none do it again except him. So when your fatherdid it I struck him, but ahint the redness that came ower his face, Isaw his triumphing laugh, and he whispered that he liked me for theblow. He said, 'I prefer the sweer anes, and the more you struggle, mybeauty, the better pleased I'll be. ' Almost his hinmost words to me was, 'I've been hearing of your Aaron, and that pleases me too!' I fired upat that and telled him what I thought of him, but he said, 'If you cannaabide me, what made you dance wi' me so often?' and, oh, laddie, that'sa question that has sung in my head since syne. 

"I've telled you that we found out wha he was, and 'deed he made nosecret of it. Up to the time he was twal year auld he had been a kentface in that part, for his mither was a Cullew woman called Mag Sandys, ay, and a single woman. She was a hard ane too, for when he was twelveyear auld he flung out o' the house saying he would ne'er come back, andshe said he shouldna run awa' wi' thae new boots on, so she took theboots off him and let him go. 

"He was a grown man when more was heard o' him, and syne stories camesaying he was at Redlintie, playing queer games wi' his father. Hisfather was gauger there, that's exciseman, a Mr. Cray, wha got his wifeout o' Thrums, and even when he was courting her (so they say) had theheart to be ower chief wi' this other woman. Weel, Magerful Tam, as hewas called through being so masterful, cast up at Redlintie frae nonekent where, gey desperate for siller, but wi' a black coat on his back, and he said that all he wanted was to be owned as the gauger's son. Mr. Cray said there was no proof that he was his son, and syne the queersport began. Your father had noticed he was like Mr. Cray, except in thebeard, and so he had his beard clippit the same, and he got hand o' someweel-kent claethes o' the gauger's that had been presented to a poorbody, and he learned up a' the gauger's tricks of speech and walking, especially a droll w'y he had o' taking snuff and syne flinging back hishead. They were as like as buckies after that, and soon there was a townabout it, for one day ladies would find that they had been bowing to theson thinking he was the father, and the next they wouldna speak to thefather, mistaking him for the son; and a report spread to the headoffice o' the excise that the gauger of Redlintie spent his evenings ata public house, singing 'The De'il's awa' wi' the Exciseman. ' Tam dranknows and nans, and it ga'e Mr. Cray a turn to see him come rolling yontthe street, just as if it was himsel' in a looking-glass. He was asedate-living man now, but chiefly because his wife kept him in goodcontrol, and this sight brought back auld times so vive to him, that hea kind of mistook which ane he was, and took to dropping, forgetful-like, into public-houses again. It was high time Tam should begot out of the place, and they did manage to bribe him into leaving, though no easily, for it had been fine sport to him, and to make asensation was what he valued above all things. We heard that he wentback to Redlintie a curran years after, but both the gauger and his wifewere dead, and I ken that he didna trouble the twa daughters. They wereMiss Ailie and Miss Kitty, and as they werena left as well off as wasexpected they came to Thrums, which had been their mother's town, andstarted a school for the gentry there. I dinna doubt but what it's theschool that Esther Auld's laddie is at. 

"So after being long lost sight o' he turned up at Cullew, wi' whatlooked to simple folk a fortune in his pouches, and half a dozen untruestories about how he made it. He had come to make a show o' himsel'afore his mither, and I dare say to give her some gold, for he was ayeready to give when he had, I'll say that for him; but she had flitted tosome unkent place, and so he bade on some weeks at the Cullew public. Hecaredna whether the folk praised or blamed him so long as they wonderedat him, and queer stories about his doings was aye on the road toThrums. One was that he gave wild suppers to whaever would come; anotherthat he went to the kirk just for the glory of flinging a sovereigninto the plate wi' a clatter; another that when he lay sleeping on twachairs, gold and silver dribbled out o' his trouser pouches to thefloor. 

"There was an ugly story too, about a lassie, that led to his leavingthe place and coming to Thrums, after he had near killed the Cullewsmith, in a fight. The first I heard o' his being in Thrums was whenAaron Latta walked into my granny's house and said there was a strangeman at the Tappit Hen public standing drink to any that would tak', andboasting that he had but to waggle his finger to make me give Aaron up. I went wi' Aaron and looked in at the window, but I kent wha it wasafore I looked. If Aaron had just gone in and struck him! All decentwomen, laddie, has a horror of being fought about. I'm no sure but whatthat's just the difference atween guid ones and ill ones, but this manhad a power ower me; and if Aaron had just struck him! Instead o'meddling he turned white, and I couldna help contrasting them, andthinking how masterful your father looked. Fine I kent he was a brute, and yet I couldna help admiring him for looking so magerful. 

"He bade on at the Tappit Hen, flinging his siller about in the way thatmade him a king at Cullew, but no molesting Miss Ailie and Miss Kitty, which all but me thought was what he had come to Thrums to do. Aaron andme was cried for the first time the Sabbath after he came, and the nextSabbath for the second time, but afore that he was aye getting in myroad and speaking to me, but I ran frae him and hod frae him when Icould, and he said the reason I did that was because I kent his will wasstronger than mine. He was aye saying things that made me think he sawdown to the bottom o' my soul; what I didna understand was that inmastering other women he had been learning to master me. Ay, but thoughI thought ower muckle about him, never did I speak him fair. I loo'edAaron wi' all my heart, and your father kent it; and that, I doubt, waswhat made him so keen, for, oh, but he was vain!

"And now we've come to the night I'm so sweer to speak about. She was agood happy lassie that went into the Den that moonlight night wi'Aaron's arm round her, but it was another woman that came out. Wethought we had the Den to oursel's, and as we sat on the Shoaging Staneat the Cuttle Well, Aaron wrote wi' a stick on the ground 'Jean Latta, 'and prigged wi' me to look at it, but I spread my hands ower my face, and he didna ken that I was keeking at it through my fingers all thetime. We was so ta'en up with oursel's that we saw nobody coming, andall at once there was your father by the side o' us! 'You've written thewrong name, Aaron, ' he said, jeering and pointing with his foot at theletters; 'it should be Jean Sandys. '

"Aaron said not a word, but I had a presentiment of ill, and I cried, 'Dinna let him change the name, Aaron!' Your father had been to changeit himsel', but at that he had a new thait, and he said, 'No, I'll no'do it; your brave Aaron shall do it for me. '

"Laddie, it doesna do for a man to be a coward afore a woman that's fondo' him. A woman will thole a man's being anything except like hersel'. When I was sure Aaron was a coward I stood still as death, waiting token wha's I was to be. 

"Aaron did it. He was loath, but your father crushed him to the ground, and said do it he should, and warned him too that if he did it he wouldlose me, bantering him and cowing him and advising him no' to shame me, all in a breath. He kent so weel, you see, what was in my mind, and ayethere was that triumphing laugh ahint his face. If Aaron had fought andbeen beaten, even if he had just lain there and let the man strike away, if he had done anything except what he was bidden, he would have won, for it would have broken your father's power ower me. But to write theword! It was like dishonoring me to save his ain skin, and your fathertook good care he should ken it. You've heard me crying to Aaron in mysleep, but it wasna for him I cried, it was for his fire-side. All thelove I had for him, and it was muckle, was skailed forever that night atthe Cuttle Well. Without a look ahint me away I went wi' my master, andI had no more will to resist him--and oh, man, man, when I came tomysel' next morning I wished I had never been born!

"The men folk saw that Aaron had shamed them, and they werena quite soset agin me as the women, wha had guessed the truth, though they couldnabe sure o't. Sair I pitied mysel', and sair I grat, but only when nonewas looking. The mair they miscalled me the higher I held my head, and Ihung on your father's arm as if I adored him, and I boasted about hisoffice and his clerk in London till they believed what I didna believe aword o' myself. 

"But though I put sic a brave face on't, I was near demented in case heshouldna marry me, and he kent that and jokit me about it. Dinna think Iwas fond o' him; I hated him now. And dinna think his masterfulness hadany more power ower me; his power was broken forever when I woke up thatweary morning. But that was ower late, and to wait on by mysel' inThrums for what might happen, and me a single woman--I daredna! So Iflattered at him, and flattered at him, till I got the fool side o' him, and he married me. 

"My granny let the marriage take place in her house, and he sent in somuckle meat and drink that some folk was willing to come. One came thatwasna wanted. In the middle o' the marriage Aaron Latta, wha had refusedto speak to anybody since that night, walked in wearing his blacks, wi'crape on them, as if it was a funeral, and all he said was that he hadcome to see Jean Myles coffined. He went away quietly as soon as we wasmarried, but the crowd outside had fathomed his meaning, and abune theminister's words I could hear them crying, 'Ay, it's mair like a burialthan a marriage!'

"My heart was near breaking wi' woe, but, oh, I was awid they shouldnaken it, and the bravest thing I ever did was to sit through the supperthat night, making muckle o' your father, looking fond-like at him, laughing at his coarse jokes, and secretly hating him down to my verymarrow a' the time. The crowd got word o' the ongoings, and they took acruel revenge. A carriage had been ordered for nine o'clock to take usto Tilliedrum, where we should get the train to London, and when weheard it, as we thought, drive up to the door, out we went, me on yourfather's arm laughing, but wi' my teeth set. But Aaron's words had putan idea into their heads, though he didna intend it, and they had gotout the hearse. It was the hearse they had brought to the door insteadof a carriage. 

"We got awa' in a carriage in the tail-end, and the stanes hitting it wasall the good luck flung after me. It had just one horse, and I mind howI cried to Esther Auld, wha had been the first to throw, that when Icame back it would be in a carriage and pair. 

"Ay, I had pride! In the carriage your father telled me as a joke thathe had got away without paying the supper, and that about all the moneyhe had now, forby what was to pay our tickets to London, was thehalf-sovereign on his watch-chain. But I was determined to have Thrumsthink I had married grand, and as I had three pound six on me, thesavings o' all my days, I gave two pound of it to Malcolm Crabb, thedriver, unbeknown to your father, but pretending it was frae him, andtelled him to pay for the supper and the carriage with it. He said itwas far ower muckle, but I just laughed, and said wealthy gentlemen likeMr. Sandys couldna be bothered to take back change, so Malcolm couldkeep what was ower. Malcolm was the man Esther Auld had just married, and I counted on this maddening her and on Malcolm's spreading the storythrough the town. Laddie, I've kent since syne what it is to be withoutbite or sup, but I've never grudged that siller. "

The poor woman had halted many times in her tale, and she was glad tomake an end. "You've forgotten what a life he led me in London, " shesaid, "and it could do you no good to hear it, though it might be alesson to thae lassies at the dancing-school wha think so much o'masterful men. It was by betting at horseraces that your father made aliving, and whiles he was large o' siller, but that didna last, and Iquestion whether he would have stuck to me if I hadna got work. Well, he's gone, and the Thrums folk'll soon ken the truth about Jean Mylesnow. "

She paused, and then cried, with extraordinary vehemence: "Oh, man, howI wish I could keep it frae them for ever and ever!"

But presently she was calm again and she said: "What I've been tellingyou, you can understand little o' the now, but some of it will comeback to you when you're a grown man, and if you're magerful and havesome lassie in your grip, maybe for the memory of her that bore you, you'll let the poor thing awa'. "

And she asked him to add this to his nightly prayer: "O God, keep mefrom being a magerful man!" and to teach this other prayer to Elspeth, "O God, whatever is to be my fate, may I never be one of them that bowthe knee to magerful men, and if I was born like that and canna help it, oh, take me up to heaven afore I'm fil't. "

The wardrobe was invisible in the darkness, but they could still hearElspeth's breathing as she slept, and the exhausted woman listened longto it, as if she would fain carry away with her to the other world thememory of that sweet sound. 

"If you gang to Thrums, " she said at last, "you may hear my story fraesome that winna spare me in the telling; but should Elspeth be wi' youat sic times, dinna answer back; just slip quietly away wi' her. She'sso young that she'll soon forget all about her life in London and allabout me, and that'll be best for her. I would like her lassiehood to bebright and free frae cares, as if there had never been sic a woman asme. But laddie, oh, my laddie, dinna you forget me; you and me had himto thole thegither, dinna you forget me! Watch ower your little sisterby day and hap her by night, and when the time comes that a man wantsher--if he be magerful, tell her my story at once. But gin she lovesone that is her ain true love, dinna rub off the bloom, laddie, with aword about me. Let her and him gang to the Cuttle Well, as Aaron and mewent, kenning no guile and thinking none, and with their arms round oneanother's waists. But when her wedding-day comes round--"

Her words broke in a sob and she cried: "I see them, I see them standingup thegither afore the minister! Oh! you lad, you lad that's to bemarried on my Elspeth, turn your face and let me see that you're no' amagerful man!"

But the lad did not turn his face, and when she spoke next it was toTommy. 

"In the bottom o' my kist there's a little silver teapot. It's no' realsilver, but it's fell bonny. I bought it for Elspeth twa or three monthsback when I saw I couldna last the winter. I bought it to her for amarriage present. She's no' to see it till her wedding-day comes round. Syne you're to give it to her, man, and say it's with her mother's love. Tell her all about me, for it canna harm her then. Tell her of the foollies I sent to Thrums, but dinna forget what a bonny place I thought itall the time, nor how I stood on many a driech night at the corner ofthat street, looking so waeful at the lighted windows, and hungering forthe wring of a Thrums hand or the sound of the Thrums word, and all thetime the shrewd blasts cutting through my thin trails of claithes. Tellher, man, how you and me spent this night, and how I fought to keep myhoast down so as no' to waken her. Mind that whatever I have been, Iwas aye fond o' my bairns, and slaved for them till I dropped. She'llhave long forgotten what I was like, and it's just as well, butyet--Look at me, Tommy, look long, long, so as you'll be able to call upmy face as it was on the far-back night when I telled you my mournfulstory. Na, you canna see in the dark, but haud my hand, haud it tight, so that, when you tell Elspeth, you'll mind how hot it was, and the skinloose on it; and put your hand on my cheeks, man, and feel how wet theyare wi' sorrowful tears, and lay it on my breast, so that you can tellher how I was shrunk awa'. And if she greets for her mother a whiley, let her greet. "

The sobbing boy hugged his mother. "Do you think I'm an auld woman?" shesaid to him. 

"You're gey auld, are you no'?" he answered. 

"Ay, " she said, "I'm gey auld; I'm nine and twenty. I was seventeen onthe day when Aaron Latta went half-road in the cart wi' me to Cullew, hauding my hand aneath my shawl. He hadna spiered me, but I just kent. "

Tommy remained in his mother's bed for the rest of the night, and somany things were buzzing in his brain that not for an hour did he thinkit time to repeat his new prayer. At last he said reverently: "O God, keep me from being a magerful man!" Then he opened his eyes to let Godsee that his prayer was ended, and added to himself: "But I think Iwould fell like it. "

CHAPTER XI

AARON LATTA

The Airlie post had dropped the letters for outlying farms at theMonypenny smithy and trudged on. The smith having wiped his hand on hishair, made a row of them, without looking at the addresses, on hiswindow-sill, where, happening to be seven in number, they were almost amodel of Monypenny, which is within hail of Thrums, but round the cornerfrom it, and so has ways of its own. With the next clang on the anvilthe middle letter fell flat, and now the likeness to Monypenny wasabsolute. 

Again all the sound in the land was the melancholy sweet kink, kink, kink of the smith's hammer. 

Across the road sat Dite Deuchars, the mole-catcher, a solitary figure, taking his pleasure on the dyke. Behind him was the flour-miller'sfield, and beyond it the Den, of which only some tree-tops were visible. He looked wearily east the road, but no one emerged from Thrums; helooked wearily west the road, which doubled out of sight at AaronLatta's cottage, little more than a stone's throw distant. On the insideof Aaron's window an endless procession seemed to be passing, but itwas only the warping mill going round. It was an empty day, but Dite, the accursed, was used to them; nothing ever happened where he was, butmany things as soon as he had gone. 

He yawned and looked at the houses opposite. They were all of one story;the smith's had a rusty plough stowed away on its roof; under a windowstood a pew and bookboard, bought at the roup of an old church, and thustransformed into a garden-seat. There were many of them in Thrums thatyear. All the doors, except that of the smithy, were shut, until one ofthem blew ajar, when Dite knew at once, from the smell which crossed theroad, that Blinder was in the bunk pulling the teeth of his potatoes. May Ann Irons, the blind man's niece, came out at this door to beat thecistern with a bass, and she gave Dite a wag of her head. He was to bemarried to her if she could get nothing better. 

By and by the Painted Lady came along the road. She was a little woman, brightly dressed, so fragile that a collie might have knocked her overwith his tail, and she had a beautiful white-and-pink face, the whiteending of a sudden in the middle of her neck, where it met skin of aduller color. As she tripped along with mincing gait, she was speakingconfidentially to herself, but when she saw Dite grinning, she seemed, first, afraid, and then sorry for herself, and then she tried to carryit off with a giggle, cocking her head impudently at him. Even then shelooked childish, and a faded guilelessness, with many pretty airs andgraces, still lingered about her, like innocent birds loath to be gonefrom the spot where their nest has been. When she had passed monotonyagain reigned, and Dite crossed to the smithy window, though none of theletters could be for him. He could read the addresses on six of them, but the seventh lay on its back, and every time he rose on his tip-toesto squint down at it, the spout pushed his bonnet over his eyes. 

"Smith, " he cried in at the door, "to gang hame afore I ken wha thatletter's to is more than I can do. "

The smith good-naturedly brought the letter to him, and then glancing atthe address was dumfounded. "God behears, " he exclaimed, with a suddenlook at the distant cemetery, "it's to Double Dykes!"

Dite also shot a look at the cemetery. "He'll never get it, " he said, with mighty conviction. 

The two men gazed at the cemetery for some time, and at last Ditemuttered, "Ay, ay, Double Dykes, you was aye fond o' your joke!"

"What has that to do wi' 't?" rapped out the smith, uncomfortably. 

Dite shuddered. "Man, " he said, "does that letter no bring Double Dykesback terrible vive again! If we was to see him climbing the cemeterydyke the now, and coming stepping down the fields in his moleskinwaistcoat wi' the pearl buttons--"

Auchterlonie stopped him with a nervous gesture. 

"But it couldna be the pearl buttons, " Dite added thoughtfully, "forBetty Finlayson has been wearing them to the kirk this four year. Ay, ay, Double Dykes, that puts you farther awa' again. "

The smith took the letter to a neighbor's house to ask the advice of oldIrons, the blind tailor, who when he lost his sight had given himselfthe name of Blinder for bairns to play with. 

"Make your mind easy, smith, " was Blinder's counsel. "The letter ismeant for the Painted Lady. What's Double Dykes? It's but the name of afarm, and we gave it to Sanders because he was the farmer. He's dead, and them that's in the house now become Double Dykes in his place. "

But the Painted Lady only had the house, objected Dite; Nether Drumgleywas farming the land, and so he was the real Double Dykes. True, shemight have pretended to her friends that she had the land also. 

She had no friends, the smith said, and since she came to Double Dykesfrom no one could find out where, though they knew her furniture wasbought in Tilliedrum, she had never got a letter. Often, though, as shepassed his window she had keeked sideways at the letters, as bairnsmight look at parlys. If he made a tinkle with his hammer at such timesoff she went at once, for she was as easily flichtered as a field ofcrows, that take wing if you tap your pipe on the loof of your hand. Itwas true she had spoken to him once; when he suddenly saw her standingat his smiddy door, the surprise near made him fall over his brot. Shelooked so neat and ladylike that he gave his hair a respectful pullbefore he remembered the kind of woman she was. 

And what was it she said to him? Dite asked eagerly. 

She had pointed to the letters on the window-sill, and said she, "Oh, the dear loves!" It was a queer say, but she had a bonny English word. The English word was no doubt prideful, but it melted in the mouth likea lick of sirup. She offered him sixpence for a letter, any letter heliked, but of course he refused it. Then she prigged with him just tolet her hold one in her hands, for said she, bairnlike, "I used to getone every day. " It so happened that one of the letters was to MysyBobbie; and Mysy was of so little importance that he thought there wouldbe no harm in letting the Painted Lady hold her letter, so he gave it toher, and you should have seen her dawting it with her hand and holdingit to her breast like a lassie with a pigeon. "Isn't it sweet?" shesaid, and before he could stop her she kissed it. She forgot it was noletter of hers, and made to open it, and then she fell a-trembling andsaying she durst not read it, for you never knew whether the first wordsmight not break your heart. The envelope was red where her lips hadtouched it, and yet she had an innocent look beneath the paint. When hetook the letter from her, though, she called him a low, vulgar fellowfor presuming to address a lady. She worked herself into a fury, andsaid far worse than that; a perfect guller of clarty language camepouring out of her. He had heard women curse many a time without turninga hair, but he felt wae when she did it, for she just spoke it like abairn that had been in ill company. 

The smith's wife, Suphy, who had joined the company, thought that menwere easily taken in, especially smiths. She offered, however, to conveythe letter to Double Dykes. She was anxious to see the inside of thePainted Lady's house, and this would be a good opportunity. She admittedthat she had crawled to the east window of it before now, but that dourbairn of the Painted Lady's had seen her head and whipped down theblind. 

Unfortunate Suphy! she could not try the window this time, as it wasbroad daylight, and the Painted Lady took the letter from her at thedoor. She returned crestfallen, and for an hour nothing happened. Themole-catcher went off to the square, saying, despondently, that nothingwould happen until he was round the corner. No sooner had he rounded thecorner than something did happen. 

A girl who had left Double Dykes with a letter was walking quicklytoward Monypenny. She wore a white pinafore over a magenta frock, and noone could tell her whether she was seven or eight, for she was only thePainted Lady's child. Some boys, her natural enemies, were behind; theyhad just emerged from the Den, and she heard them before they saw her, and at once her little heart jumped and ran off with her. But the halloothat told her she was discovered checked her running. Her teeth wentinto her underlip; now her head was erect. After her came the rabblewith a rush, flinging stones that had no mark and epithets that hit. Grizel disdained to look over her shoulder. Little hunted child, wherewas succor to come from if she could not fight for herself?

Though under the torture she would not cry out. "What's a father?" wastheir favorite jeer, because she had once innocently asked this questionof a false friend. One tried to snatch the letter from her, but sheflashed him a look that sent him to the other side of the dyke, where, he said, did she think he was afraid of her? Another strutted by herside, mimicking her in such diverting manner that presently the othershad to pick him out of the ditch. Thus Grizel moved onward defiantlyuntil she reached Monypenny, where she tossed the letter in at thesmithy door and immediately returned home. It was the letter that hadbeen sent to her mother, now sent back, because it was meant for thedead farmer after all. 

The smith read Jean Myles's last letter, with a face of growing gravity. "Dear Double Dykes, " it said, "I send you these few scrapes to say I amdying, and you and Aaron Latta was seldom sindry, so I charge you to goto him and say to him 'Aaron Latta, it's all lies Jean Myles wrote toThrums about her grandeur, and her man died mony year back, and it wasthe only kindness he ever did her, and if she doesna die quick, her andher starving bairns will be flung out into the streets. ' If that doesnamove him, say, 'Aaron Latta, do you mind yon day at Inverquharity andthe cushie doos?' likewise, 'Aaron Latta, do you mind yon day at theKaims of Airlie?' likewise, 'Aaron Latta, do you mind that Jean Myleswas ower heavy for you to lift? Oh, Aaron, you could lift me so pitifuleasy now. ' And syne says you solemnly three times, 'Aaron Latta, JeanMyles is lying dying all alone in a foreign land; Aaron Latta, JeanMyles is lying dying all alone in a foreign land; Aaron Latta, JeanMyles is lying dying all alone in a foreign land. ' And if he's sweer tocome, just say, 'Oh, Aaron, man, you micht; oh, Aaron, oh, Aaron, areyou coming?'"

The smith had often denounced this woman, but he never said a wordagainst her again. He stood long reflecting, and then took the letter toBlinder and read it to him. 

"She doesna say, 'Oh, Aaron Latta, do you mind the Cuttle Well?'" wasthe blind man's first comment. 

"She was thinking about it, " said Auchterlonie. 

"Ay, and he's thinking about it, " said Blinder, "night and day, nightand day. What a town there'll be about that letter, smith!"

"There will. But I'm to take it to Aaron afore the news spreads. He'llnever gang to London though. "

"I think he will, smith. "

"I ken him well. "

"Maybe I ken him better. "

"You canna see the ugly mark it left on his brow. "

"I can see the uglier marks it has left in his breast. "

"Well, I'll take the letter; I can do no more. "

When the smith opened the door of Aaron's house he let out a draught ofhot air that was glad to be gone from the warper's restless home. Theusual hallan, or passage, divided the but from the ben, and in the ben agreat revolving thing, the warping-mill, half filled the room. Betweenit and a pile of webs that obscured the light a little silent man wassitting on a box turning a handle. His shoulders were almost as high ashis ears, as if he had been caught forever in a storm, and though he wasbarely five and thirty, he had the tattered, dishonored beard of blackand white that comes to none till the glory of life has gone. 

Suddenly the smith appeared round the webs. "Aaron, " he said, awkwardly, "do you mind Jean Myles?"

The warper did not for a moment take his eyes off a contrivance withpirns in it that was climbing up and down the whirring mill. 

"She's dead, " he answered. 

"She's dying, " said the smith. 

A thread broke, and Aaron had to rise to mend it. 

"Stop the mill and listen, " Auchterlonie begged him, but the warperreturned to his seat and the mill again revolved. 

"This is her dying words to you, " continued the smith. "Did you speak?"

"I didna, but I wish you would take your arm off the haik. "

"She's loath to die without seeing you. Do you hear, man? You shalllisten to me, I tell you. "

"I am listening, smith, " the warper replied, without rancour. "It's butright that you should come here to take your pleasure on a shamed man. "His calmness gave him a kind of dignity. 

"Did I ever say you was a shamed man, Aaron?"

"Am I not?" the warper asked quietly; and Auchterlonie hung his head. 

Aaron continued, still turning the handle, "You're truthful, and youcanna deny it. Nor will you deny that I shamed you and every othermother's son that night. You try to hod it out o' pity, smith, but evenas you look at me now, does the man in you no rise up against me?"

"If so, " the smith answered reluctantly, "if so, it's against my will. "

"It is so, " said Aaron, in the same measured voice, "and it's rightthat it should be so. A man may thieve or debauch or murder, and yet nobe so very different frae his fellow-men, but there's one thing he shallnot do without their wanting to spit him out o' their mouths, and thatis, violate the feelings of sex. "

The strange words in which the warper described his fall had always anuncomfortable effect on those who heard him use them, and Auchterloniecould only answer in distress, "Maybe that's what it is. "

"That's what it is. I have had twal lang years sitting on this box tothink it out. I blame none but mysel'. "

"Then you'll have pity on Jean in her sair need, " said the smith. Heread slowly the first part of the letter, but Aaron made no comment, andthe mill had not stopped for a moment. 

"She says, " the smith proceeded, doggedly--"she says to say to you, 'Aaron Latta, do you mind yon day at Inverquharity and the cushiedoos?'"

Only the monotonous whirr of the mill replied. 

"She says, 'Aaron Latta, do you mind that Jean Myles was ower heavy foryou to lift? Oh, Aaron, you could lift me so pitiful easy now. '"

Another thread broke and the warper rose with sudden fury. 

"Now that you've eased your conscience, smith, " he said, fiercely, "makeyour feet your friend. "

"I'll do so, " Auchterlonie answered, laying the letter on the webs, "butI leave this ahint me. "

"Wap it in the fire. "

"If that's to be done, you do it yoursel'. Aaron, she treated you ill, but--"

"There's the door, smith. "

The smith walked away, and had only gone a few steps when he heard thewhirr of the mill again. He went back to the door. 

"She's dying, man!" he cried. 

"Let her die!" answered Aaron. 

In an hour the sensational news was through half of Thrums, of whichMonypenny may be regarded as a broken piece, left behind, like the dotof quicksilver in the tube, to show how high the town once rose. Somecould only rejoice at first in the down-come of Jean Myles, but mostblamed the smith (and himself among them) for not taking note of heraddress, so that Thrums Street could be informed of it and sent to herrelief. For Blinder alone believed that Aaron would be softened. 

"It was twa threads the smith saw him break, " the blind man said, "andAaron's good at his work. He'll go to London, I tell you. "

"You forget, Blinders, that he was warping afore I was a dozen stepsfrae the door. "

"Ay, and that just proves he hadna burned the letter, for he hadna time. If he didna do it at the first impulse, he'll no do it now. "

Every little while the boys were sent along the road to look in atAaron's end window and report. 

At seven in the evening Aaron had not left his box, and the blind man'sreputation for seeing farther than those with eyes was fallen low. 

"It's a good sign, " he insisted, nevertheless. "It shows his mind'stroubled, for he usually louses at six. "

By eight the news was that Aaron had left his mill and was sittingstaring at his kitchen fire. 

"He's thinking o' Inverquharity and the cushie doos, " said Blinder. 

"More likely, " said Dite Deuchars, "he's thinking o' the Cuttle Well. "

Corp Shiach clattered along the road about nine to say that Aaron Lattawas putting on his blacks as if for a journey. 

At once the blind man's reputation rose on stilts. It fell flat, however, before the ten-o'clock bell rang, when three of theAuchterlonie children, each pulling the others back that he might arrivefirst, announced that Aaron had put on his corduroys again, and was backat the mill. 

"That settles it, " was everyone's good-night to Blinder, but he onlyanswered thoughtfully, "There's a fierce fight going on, my billies. "

Next morning when his niece was shaving the blind man, the razor had totravel over a triumphant smirk which would not explain itself towomankind, Blinder being a man who could bide his time. The time camewhen the smith looked in to say, "Should I gang yont to Aaron's and seeif he'll give me the puir woman's address?"

"No, I wouldna advise that, " answered Blinder, cleverly concealing hiselation, "for Aaron Latta's awa' to London. "

"What! How can you ken?"

"I heard him go by in the night. "

"It's no possible!"

"I kent his foot. "

"You're sure it was Aaron?"

Blinder did not consider the question worth answering, his sharpness atrecognizing friends by their tread being proved. Sometimes he may havecarried his pretensions too far. Many granted that he could tell when adoctor went by, when a lawyer, when a thatcher, when a herd, and this isconceivable, for all callings have their walk. But he was regarded asuncanny when he claimed not only to know ministers in this way, but tobe able to distinguish between the steps of the different denominations. 

He had made no mistake about the warper, however. Aaron was gone, andten days elapsed before he was again seen in Thrums. 

CHAPTER XII

A CHILD'S TRAGEDY

No one in Thrums ever got a word from Aaron Latta about how he spentthose ten days, and Tommy and Elspeth, whom he brought back with him, also tried to be reticent, but some of the women were too clever forthem. Jean and Aaron did not meet again. Her first intimation that hehad come she got from Shovel, who said that a little high-shouldered manin black had been inquiring if she was dead, and was now walking up anddown the street, like one waiting. She sent her children out to him, buthe would not come up. He had answered Tommy roughly, but when Elspethslipped her hand into his, he let it stay there, and he instructed herto tell Jean Myles that he would bury her in the Thrums cemetery andbring up her bairns. Jean managed once to go to the window and look downat him, and by and by he looked up and saw her. They looked long at eachother, and then he turned away his head and began to walk up and downagain. 

At Tilliedrum the coffin was put into a hearse and thus conveyed toMonypenny, Aaron and the two children sitting on the box-seat. Someonesaid, "Jean Myles boasted that when she came back to Thrums it would bein her carriage and pair, and she has kept her word, " and the saying isstill preserved in that Bible for week-days of which all little placeshave their unwritten copy, one of the wisest of books, but nearly everytext in it has cost a life. 

About a score of men put on their blacks and followed the hearse fromthe warper's house to the grave. Elspeth wanted to accompany Tommy, butAaron held her back, saying, quietly, "In this part, it's only men thatgo to burials, so you and me maun bide at name, " and then she cried, noone understood why, except Tommy. It was because he would see Thrumsfirst; but he whispered to her, "I promise to keep my eyes shut and nolook once, " and so faithfully did he keep his promise on the whole thatthe smith held him by the hand most of the way, under the impressionthat he was blind. 

But he had opened his eyes at the grave, when a cord was put into hishand, and then he wept passionately, and on his way back to Monypenny, whether his eyes were open or shut, what he saw was his mother beingshut up in a black hole and trying for ever and ever to get out. He ranto Elspeth for comfort, but in the meantime she had learned fromBlinder's niece that graves are dark and cold, and so he found hersobbing even like himself. Tommy could never bear to see Elspethcrying, and he revealed his true self in his way of drying her tears. 

"It will be so cold in that hole, " she sobbed. 

"No, " he said, "it's warm. "

"It will be dark. "

"No, it's clear. "

"She would like to get out. "

"No, she was terrible pleased to get in. "

It was characteristic of him that he soon had Elspeth happy by argumentsnot one of which he believed himself; characteristic also that his owngrief was soothed by the sound of them. Aaron, who was in the garretpreparing their bed, had told the children that they must remain indoorsto-day out of respect to their mother's memory (to-morrow morning theycould explore Thrums); but there were many things in that kitchen forthem to look at and exult over. It had no commonplace ceiling, thecouples, or rafters, being covered with the loose flooring of a romanticgarret, and in the rafters were several great hooks, from one of whichhung a ham, and Tommy remembered, with a thrill which he communicated toElspeth, that it is the right of Thrums children to snip off the ham asmuch as they can remove with their finger-nails and roast it on the ribsof the fire. The chief pieces of furniture were a dresser, a cornercupboard with diamond panes, two tables, one of which stood beneath theother, but would have to come out if Aaron tried to bake, and a bedwith a door. These two did not know it, but the room was full ofmemories of Jean Myles. The corner cupboard had been bought by Aaron ata roup because she said she would like to have one; it was she who hadchosen the six cups and saucers with the blue spots on them. Arazor-strop, now hard as iron, hung on a nail on the wall; it had notbeen used since the last time Aaron strutted through the Den with hissweetheart. One day later he had opened the door of the bird-cage, whichstill stood in the window, and let the yellow yite go. Many things werewhere no woman would have left them: clothes on the floor with the nailthey had torn from the wall; on a chair a tin basin, soapy water and aflannel rag in it; horn spoons with whistles at the end of them wereanywhere--on the mantelpiece, beneath the bed; there were drawers thatcould not be opened because their handles were inside. Perhaps thewindows were closed hopelessly also, but this must be left doubtful; noone had ever tried to open them. 

The garret where Tommy and Elspeth were to sleep was reached by a ladderfrom the hallan; when you were near the top of the ladder your head hita trap-door and pushed it open. At one end of the garret was the bed, and at the other end were piled sticks for firewood and curiousdark-colored slabs whose smell the children disliked until Tommy said, excitedly, "Peat!" and then they sniffed reverently. 

It was Tommy, too, who discovered the tree-tops of the Den, and Elspethseeing him gazing in a transport out at the window cried, "What is it, Tommy? Quick!"

"Promise no to scream, " he replied, warningly. "Well, then, ElspethSandys, that's where the Den is!"

Elspeth blinked with awe, and anon said, wistfully, "Tommy, do you seethat there? That's where the Den is!"

"It were me what told you, " cried Tommy, jealously. 

"But let me tell you, Tommy!"

"Well, then, you can tell me. "

"That there is the Den, Tommy!"

"Dagont!"

Oh, that to-morrow were here! Oh, that Shovel could see these twoto-morrow!

Here is another splendid game, T. Sandys, inventor. The girl goes intothe bed, the boy shuts the door on her, and imitates the sound of atrain in motion. He opens the door and cries, "Tickets, please. " Thegirl says, "What is the name of this place?" The boy replies, "It'sThrums!" There is more to follow, but the only two who have played thegame always roared so joyously at this point that they could get nofarther. 

"Oh, to-morrow, come quick, quick!"

"Oh, poor Shovel!"

To-morrow came, and with it two eager little figures rose and gulpedtheir porridge, and set off to see Thrums. They were dressed in theblack clothes Aaron Latta had bought for them in London, and they hadagreed just to walk, but when they reached the door and saw thetree-tops of the Den they--they ran. Would you not like to hold themback? It is a child's tragedy. 

They went first into the Den, and the rocks were dripping wet, all thetrees, save the firs, were bare, and the mud round a tiny spring pulledoff one of Elspeth's boots. 

"Tommy, " she cried, quaking, "that narsty puddle can't not be the CuttleWell, can it?"

"No, it ain't, " said Tommy, quickly, but he feared it was. 

"It's c-c-colder here than London, " Elspeth said, shivering, and Tommywas shivering too, but he answered, "I'm--I'm--I'm warm. "

The Den was strangely small, and soon they were on a shabby brae wherewomen in short gowns came to their doors and men in night-caps sat downon the shafts of their barrows to look at Jean Myles's bairns. 

"What does yer think?" Elspeth whispered, very doubtfully. 

"They're beauties, " Tommy answered, determinedly. 

Presently Elspeth cried, "Oh, Tommy, what a ugly stair! Where is thebeauty stairs as is wore outside for show?"

This was one of them and Tommy knew it. "Wait till you see the westtown end, " he said bravely; "it's grand. " But when they were in the westtown end, and he had to admit it, "Wait till you see the square, " hesaid, and when they were in the square, "Wait, " he said, huskily, "tillyou see the town-house. " Alas, this was the town-house facing them, andwhen they knew it, he said hurriedly, "Wait till you see the Auld LichtKirk. "

They stood long in front of the Auld Licht Kirk, which he had sworn wasbigger and lovelier than St. Paul's, but--well, it is a different styleof architecture, and had Elspeth not been there with tears in waiting, Tommy would have blubbered. "It's--it's littler than I thought, " he saiddesperately, "but--the minister, oh, what a wonderful big man he is!"

"Are you sure?" Elspeth squeaked. 

"I swear he is. "

The church door opened and a gentleman came out, a little man, boyish inthe back, with the eager face of those who live too quickly. But it wasnot at him that Tommy pointed reassuringly; it was at the monster churchkey, half of which protruded from his tail pocket and waggled like thehilt of a sword. 

Speaking like an old residenter, Tommy explained that he had brought hissister to see the church, "She's ta'en aback, " he said, picking outScotch words carefully, "because it's littler than the London kirks, but I telled her--I telled her that the preaching is better. "

This seemed to please the stranger, for he patted Tommy on the headwhile inquiring, "How do you know that the preaching is better?"

"Tell him, Elspeth, " replied Tommy modestly. 

"There ain't nuthin' as Tommy don't know, " Elspeth explained. "He knowswhat the minister is like too. "

"He's a noble sight, " said Tommy. 

"He can get anything from God he likes, " said Elspeth. 

"He's a terrible big man, " said Tommy. 

This seemed to please the little gentleman less. "Big!" he exclaimed, irritably; "why should he be big?"

"He is big, " Elspeth almost screamed, for the minister was her lasthope. 

"Nonsense!" said the little gentleman. "He is--well, I am the minister. "

"You!" roared Tommy, wrathfully. 

"Oh, oh, oh!" sobbed Elspeth. 

For a moment the Rev. Mr. Dishart looked as if he would like to knocktwo little heads together, but he walked away without doing it. 

"Never mind, " Tommy whispered hoarsely to Elspeth. "Never mind, Elspeth, you have me yet. "

This consolation seldom failed to gladden her, but her disappointmentwas so sharp to-day that she would not even look up. 

"Come away to the cemetery, it's grand, " he said; but still she wouldnot be comforted. 

"And I'll let you hold my hand--as soon as we're past the houses, " headded. 

"I'll let you hold it now, " he said eventually; but even then Elspethcried dismally, and her sobs were hurting him more than her. 

He knew all the ways of getting round Elspeth, and when next he spoke itwas with a sorrowful dignity. "I didna think, " he said, "as yer wantedme never to be able to speak again; no, I didna think it, Elspeth. "

She took her hands from her face and looked at him inquiringly. 

"One of the stories mamma telled me and Reddy, " he said, "were about aman what saw such a beauty thing that he was struck dumb withadmiration. Struck dumb is never to be able to speak again, and I wish Ihad been struck dumb when you wanted it. "

"But I didn't want it!" Elspeth cried. 

"If Thrums had been one little bit beautier than it is, " he went onsolemnly, "it would have struck me dumb. It would have hurt me sore, butwhat about that, if it pleased you!"

Then did Elspeth see what a wicked girl she had been, and when next thetwo were observed by the curious (it was on the cemetery road), theywere once more looking cheerful. At the smallest provocation theyexchanged notes of admiration, such as, "Oh, Tommy, what a bonnybarrel!" or "Oh, Elspeth, I tell yer that's a dyke, and there's justwalls in London, " but sometimes Elspeth would stoop hastily, pretendingthat she wanted to tie her bootlace, but really to brush away a tear, and there were moments when Tommy hung very limp. Each was trying todeceive the other for the other's sake, and one of them was never goodat deception. They saw through each other, yet kept up the chilly game, because they could think of nothing better, and perhaps the game wasworth playing, for love invented it. 

They sat down on their mother's grave. No stone was ever erected to thememory of Jean Myles, but it is enough for her that she lies at home. That comfort will last her to the Judgment Day. 

The man who had dug the grave sent them away, and they wandered to thehill, and thence down the Roods, where there were so many outside stairsnot put there for show that it was well Elspeth remembered howsusceptible Tommy was to being struck dumb. For her sake he said, "They're bonny, " and for his sake she replied, "I'm glad they ain'tbonnier. "

When within one turn of Monypenny they came suddenly upon some boysplaying at capey-dykey, a game with marbles that is only known inThrums. There are thirty-five ways of playing marbles, but this is thebest way, and Elspeth knew that Tommy was hungering to look on, butwithout her, lest he should be accused of sweethearting. So she offeredto remain in the background. 

Was she sure she shouldn't mind?

She said falteringly that of course she would mind a little, but--

Then Tommy was irritated, and said he knew she would mind, but if shejust pretended she didn't mind, he could leave her without feeling thathe was mean. 

So Elspeth affected not to mind, and then he deserted her, conscience atrest, which was his nature. But he should have remained with her. Theplayers only gave him the side of their eye, and a horrid fear grew onhim that they did not know he was a Thrums boy. "Dagont!" he cried toput them right on that point, but though they paused in their game, itwas only to laugh at him uproariously. Let the historian use an oath foronce; dagont, Tommy had said the swear in the wrong place!

How fond he had been of that word! Many a time he had fired it in theface of Londoners, and the flash had often blinded them and always him. Now he had brought it home, and Thrums would have none of it; it was asif these boys were jeering at their own flag. He tottered away from themuntil he came to a trance, or passage, where he put his face to the walland forgot even Elspeth. 

He had not noticed a girl pass the mouth of the trance, trying not verysuccessfully to conceal a brandy-bottle beneath her pinafore, butpresently he heard shouts, and looking out he saw Grizel, the PaintedLady's child, in the hands of her tormentors. She was unknown to him, ofcourse, but she hit back so courageously that he watched her withinterest, until--until suddenly he retreated farther into the trance. Hehad seen Elspeth go on her knees, obviously to ask God to stay the handsand tongues of these cruel boys. 

Elspeth had disgraced him, he felt. He was done with her forever. Ifthey struck her, serve her right. 

Struck her! Struck little Elspeth! His imagination painted the picturewith one sweep of its brush. Take care, you boys, Tommy is scuddingback. 

They had not molested Elspeth as yet. When they saw and heard herpraying, they had bent forward, agape, as if struck suddenly in thestomach. Then one of them, Francie Crabb, the golden-haired son ofEsther Auld, recovered and began to knead Grizel's back with his fists, less in viciousness than to show that the prayer was futile. Into thisscene sprang Tommy, and he thought that Elspeth was the kneaded one. Hadhe taken time to reflect he would probably have used the Thrums feint, and then in with a left-hander, which is not very efficacious in its owncountry; but being in a hurry he let out with Shovel's favorite, anddown went Francie Crabb. 

"Would you!" said Tommy, threatening, when Francie attempted to rise. 

He saw now that Elspeth was untouched, that he had rescued an unknowngirl, and it cannot be pretended of him that he was the boy to squireall ladies in distress. In ordinary circumstances he might have leftGrizel to her fate, but having struck for her, he felt that he wouldlike to go on striking. He had also the day's disappointments to avenge. It is startling to reflect that the little minister's height, forinstance, put an extra kick in him. 

So he stood stridelegs over Francie, who whimpered, "I wouldna havestruck this one if that one hadna prayed for me. It wasna likely I wouldstand that. "

"You shall stand it, " replied Tommy, and turning to Elspeth, who hadrisen from her knees, he said: "Pray away, Elspeth. "

Elspeth refused, feeling that there would be something wrong in prayingfrom triumph, and Tommy, about to be very angry with her, had a gloriousinspiration. "Pray for yourself, " he said to Francie, "and do it outloud. "

The other boys saw that a novelty promised, and now Francie need expectno aid from them. At first he refused to pray, but he succumbed whenTommy had explained the consequences, and illustrated them. 

Tommy dictated: "Oh, God, I am a sinner. Go on. "

Francie not only said it, but looked it. 

"And I pray to you to repent me, though I ain't worthy, " continuedTommy. 

"And I pray to you to repent me, though I ain't worthy, " growledFrancie. (It was the arrival of ain't in Thrums. )

Tommy considered, and then: "I thank Thee, O God, " he said, "for tellingthis girl--this lassie--to pray for me. "

Two gentle taps helped to knock this out of Francie. 

Being an artist, Tommy had kept his best for the end (and made it upfirst). "And lastly, " he said, "I thank this boy for thrashing me--Imean this here laddie. Oh, may he allus be near to thrash me when Istrike this other lassie again. Amen. "

When it was all over Tommy looked around triumphantly, and though heliked the expression on several faces, Grizel's pleased him best. "Itain't no wonder you would like to be me, lassie!" he said, in anecstasy. 

"I don't want to be you, you conceited boy, " retorted the Painted Lady'schild hotly, and her heat was the greater because the clever littlewretch had read her thoughts aright. But it was her sweet voice thatsurprised him. 

"You're English!" he cried. 

"So are you, " broke in a boy offensively, and then Tommy said to Grizelloftily, "Run away; I'll not let none on them touch you. "

"I am not afraid of them, " she rejoined, with scorn, "and I shall notlet you help me, and I won't run. " And run she did not; she walked offleisurely with her head in the air, and her dignity was beautiful, except once when she made the mistake of turning round to put out hertongue. 

But, alas! in the end someone ran. If only they had not called him"English. " In vain he fired a volley of Scotch; they pretended not tounderstand it. Then he screamed that he and Shovel could fight the lotof them. Who was Shovel? they asked derisively. He replied that Shovelwas a bloke who could lick any two of them--and with one hand tiedbehind his back. 

No sooner had he made this proud boast than he went white, and soon twodisgraceful tears rolled down his cheeks. The boys saw that for somereason unknown his courage was gone, and even Francie Crabb began toturn up his sleeves and spit upon his hands. 

Elspeth was as bewildered as the others, but she slipped her hand intohis and away they ran ingloriously, the foe too much astounded to jeer. She sought to comfort him by saying (and it brought her a step nearerwomanhood), "You wasn't feared for yourself, you wasn't; you was justfeared they would hurt me. "

But Tommy sobbed in reply, "That ain't it. I bounced so much about theThrums folk to Shovel, and now the first day I'm here I heard myselfbouncing about Shovel to Thrums folk, and it were that what made mecry. Oh, Elspeth, it's--it's not the same what I thought it would be!"

Nor was it the same to Elspeth, so they sat down by the roadside andcried with their arms round each other, and any passer-by could look whohad the heart. But when night came, and they were in their garret bed, Tommy was once more seeking to comfort Elspeth with arguments hedisbelieved, and again he succeeded. As usual, too, the make-believemade him happy also. 

"Have you forgot, " he whispered, "that my mother said as she would comeand see us every night in our bed? If yer cries, she'll see as we'reterrible unhappy, and that will make her unhappy too. "

"Oh, Tommy, is she here now?"

"Whisht! She's here, but they don't like living ones to let on as theyknows it. "

Elspeth kept closer to Tommy, and with their heads beneath the blankets, so as to stifle the sound, he explained to her how they could cheattheir mother. When she understood, he took the blankets off their facesand said in the darkness in a loud voice:

"It's a grand place, Thrums!"

Elspeth replied in a similar voice, "Ain't the town-house just big!"

Said Tommy, almost chuckling, "Oh, the bonny, bonny Auld Licht Kirk!"

Said Elspeth, "Oh, the beauty outside stairs!"

Said Tommy, "The minister is so long!"

Said Elspeth, "The folk is so kind!"

Said Tommy, "Especially the laddies!"

"Oh, I is so happy!" cried Elspeth. 

"Me too!" cried Tommy. 

"My mother would be so chirpy if she could jest see us!" Elspeth said, quite archly. 

"But she canna!" replied Tommy, slyly pinching Elspeth in the rib. 

Then they dived beneath the blankets, and the whispering was resumed. 

"Did she hear, does yer think?" asked Elspeth. 

"Every word, " Tommy replied. "Elspeth, we've done her!"

CHAPTER XIII

SHOWS HOW TOMMY TOOK CARE OF ELSPETH

Thus the first day passed, and others followed in which women, who hadknown Jean Myles, did her children kindnesses, but could not do all theywould have done, for Aaron forbade them to enter his home except onbusiness though it was begging for a housewife all day. Had Elspeth atthe age of six now settled down to domestic duties she would not havebeen the youngest housekeeper ever known in Thrums, but she was neververy good at doing things, only at loving and being loved, and theobservant neighbors thought her a backward girl; they forgot, like mostpeople, that service is not necessarily a handicraft. Tommy discoveredwhat they were saying, and to shield Elspeth he took to housewifery withthe blind down; but Aaron, entering the kitchen unexpectedly, took thebesom from, him, saying:

"It's an ill thing for men folk to ken ower muckle about women's work. "

"You do it yoursel', " Tommy argued. 

"I said men folk, " replied Aaron, quietly. 

The children knew that remarks of this sort had reference to theirmother, of whom he never spoke more directly; indeed he seldom spoke tothem at all, and save when he was cooking or giving the kitchen aslovenly cleaning they saw little of him. Monypenny had predicted thattheir presence must make a new man of him, but he was still unsociableand morose and sat as long as ever at the warping-mill, of which heseemed to have become the silent wheel. Tommy and Elspeth always droppedtheir voices when they spoke of him, and sometimes when his mill stoppedhe heard one of them say to the other, "Whisht, he's coming!" Though heseldom, spoke sharply to them, his face did not lose its loneliness atsight of them. Elspeth was his favorite (somewhat to the indignation ofboth); they found this out without his telling them or even showing itmarkedly, and when they wanted to ask anything of him she was deputed todo it, but she did it quavering, and after drawing farther away from himinstead of going nearer. A dreary life would have lain before them hadthey not been sent to school. 

There were at this time three schools in Thrums, the chief of them ruledover by the terrible Cathro (called Knuckly when you were a street awayfrom him). It was a famous school, from which a band of three or four oreven six marched every autumn to the universities as determined afterbursaries as ever were Highlandmen to lift cattle, and for the samereason, that they could not do without. 

A very different kind of dominie was Cursing Ballingall, who had beendropped at Thrums by a travelling circus, and first became familiar tothe town as, carrying two carpet shoes, two books, a pillow, and asaucepan, which were all his belongings, he wandered from manse to manseoffering to write sermons for the ministers at circus prices. Thatscheme failing, he was next seen looking in at windows in search of acanny calling, and eventually he cut one of his braces into a pair oftawse, thus with a single stroke of the knife, making himself aschool-master and lop-sided for life. His fee was but a penny a week, "with a bit o' the swine when your father kills, " and sometimes therewere so many pupils on a form that they could only rise as one. Duringthe first half of the scholastic day Ballingall's shouts and pounceswere for parents to listen to, but after his dinner of crowdy, which israw meal and hot water, served in a cogie, or wooden bowl, languorovercame him and he would sleep, having first given out a sum inarithmetic and announced:

"The one as finds out the answer first, I'll give him his licks. "

Last comes the Hanky School, which was for the genteel and for thecommon who contemplated soaring. You were not admitted to it incorduroys or bare-footed, nor did you pay weekly; no, your father calledfour times a year with the money in an envelope. He was shown into theblue-and-white room, and there, after business had been transacted, verynervously on Miss Ailie's part, she offered him his choice betweenginger wine and what she falteringly called wh-wh-whiskey. He partook inthe polite national manner, which is thus:

"You will take something, Mr. Cortachy?"

"No, I thank you, ma'am. "

"A little ginger wine?"

"It agrees ill with me. "

"Then a little wh-wh-whiskey?"

"You are ower kind. "

"Then may I?"

"I am not heeding. "

"Perhaps, though, you don't take?"

"I can take it or want it. "

"Is that enough?"

"It will do perfectly. "

"Shall I fill it up?"

"As you please, ma'am. "

Miss Ailie's relationship to the magerful man may be remembered; sheshuddered to think of it herself, for in middle-age she retained themind of a young girl, but when duty seemed to call, this school-mistresscould be brave, and she offered to give Elspeth her schooling free ofcharge. Like the other two hers was a "mixed" school, but she did notwant Tommy, because she had seen him in the square one day, and therewas a leer on his face that reminded her of his father. 

Another woman was less particular. This was Mrs. Crabb, of the TappitHen, the Esther Auld whom Jean Myles's letters had so frequently sentto bed. Her Francie was still a pupil of Miss Ailie, and still he worethe golden hair, which, despite all advice, she would not crop. It wasso beautiful that no common boys could see it without wanting to give ita tug in passing, and partly to prevent this, partly to show how highshe had risen in the social scale, Esther usually sent him to schoolunder the charge of her servant lass. She now proposed to Aaron thatthis duty should devolve on Tommy, and for the service she would pay hisfees at the Hanky School. 

"We maun all lend a hand to poor Jean's bairns, " she said, with a gleamin her eye. "It would have been well for her, Aaron, if she had marriedyou. "

"Is that all you have to say?" asked the warper, who had let her enterno farther than the hallan. 

"I would expect him to lift Francie ower the pools in wet weather; andit might be as well if he called him Master Francie. "

"Is that all?"

"Ay, I ask no more, for we maun all help Jean's bairns. If she couldonly look down, Aaron, and see her little velvets, as she called him, lifting my little corduroys ower the pools!"

Aaron flung open the door. "Munt!" he said, and he looked so dangerousthat she retired at once. He sent Tommy to Ballingall's, and acceptedMiss Ailie's offer for Elspeth, but this was an impossible arrangement, for it was known to the two persons primarily concerned that Elspethwould die if she was not where Tommy was. The few boys he had alreadybegun to know were at Cathro's or Ballingall's, and as they called MissAilie's a lassie school he had no desire to attend it, but where he wasthere also must Elspeth be. Daily he escaped from Ballingall's and hidnear the Dovecot, as Miss Ailie's house was called, and every littlewhile he gave vent to Shovel's whistle, so that Elspeth might know ofhis proximity and be cheered. Thrice was he carried back, kicking, toBallingall's by urchins sent in pursuit, stern ministers of justice onthe first two occasions; but on the third they made him an offer: if hewould hide in Couthie's hen-house they were willing to look for himeverywhere else for two hours. 

Tommy's behavior seemed beautiful to the impressionable Miss Ailie, butit infuriated Aaron, and on the fourth day he set off for the parishschool, meaning to put the truant in the hands of Cathro, from whomthere was no escape. Vainly had Elspeth implored him to let Tommy cometo the Dovecot, and vainly apparently was she trotting at his side now, looking up appealingly in his face. But when they reached the gate ofthe parish school-yard he walked past it because she was tugging him, and always when he seemed about to turn she took his hand again, and heseemed to have lost the power to resist Jean Myles's bairn. So they cameto the Dovecot, and Miss Ailie gained a pupil who had been meant forCathro. Tommy's arms were stronger than Elspeth's, but they could nothare done as much for him that day. 

Thus did the two children enter upon the genteel career, to theindignation of the other boys and girls of Monypenny, all of whom werecommoners. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE HANKY SCHOOL

The Dovecot was a prim little cottage standing back from the steepestbrae in Thrums and hidden by high garden walls, to the top of whichanother boy's shoulders were, for apple-lovers, but one step up. Jargonelle trees grew against the house, stretching their arms round itas if to measure its girth, and it was also remarkable for several"dumb" windows with the most artful blinds painted on them. Miss Ailie'sfruit was famous, but she loved her flowers best, and for long a noticeboard in her garden said, appealingly: "Persons who come to steal thefruit are requested not to walk on the flower-beds. " It was that oldbachelor, Dr. McQueen, who suggested this inscription to her, and shecould never understand why he chuckled every time he read it. 

There were seven rooms in the house, but only two were of public note, the school-room, which was downstairs, and the blue-and-white roomabove. The school-room was so long that it looked very low in theceiling, and it had a carpet, and on the walls were texts as well asmaps. Miss Ailie's desk was in the middle of the room, and there wasanother desk in the corner; a cloth had been hung over it, as one coversa cage to send the bird to sleep. Perhaps Miss Ailie thought that a birdhad once sung there, for this had been the desk of her sister, MissKitty, who died years before Tommy came to Thrums. Dainty Miss Kitty, Miss Kitty with the roguish curls, it is strange to think that you aredead, and that only Miss Ailie hears you singing now at your desk in thecorner! Miss Kitty never sang there, but the playful ringlets were oncethe bright thing in the room, and Miss Ailie sees them still, and theyare a song to her. 

The pupils had to bring handkerchiefs to the Dovecot, which led to itsbeing called the Hanky School, and in time these handkerchiefs may besaid to have assumed a religious character, though their purpose wasmerely to protect Miss Ailie's carpet. She opened each scholastic day byreading fifteen verses from the Bible, and then she said sternly, "Hankies!" whereupon her pupils whipped out their handkerchiefs, spreadthem on the floor and kneeled on them while Miss Ailie repeated theLord's Prayer. School closed at four o'clock, again with hankies. 

Only on great occasions were the boys and girls admitted to theblue-and-white room, when they were given shortbread, but had to eat itwith their heads flung back so that no crumbs should fall. Nearlyeverything in this room was blue or white, or both. There were whiteblinds and blue curtains, a blue table-cover and a white crumb-cloth, awhite sheepskin with a blue footstool on it, blue chairs dotted withwhite buttons. Only white flowers came into this room, where there wereblue vases for them, not a book was to be seen without a blue alpacacover. Here Miss Ailie received visitors in her white with the bluebraid, and enrolled new pupils in blue ink with a white pen. Somelaughed at her, others remembered that she must have something to loveafter Miss Kitty died. 

Miss Ailie had her romance, as you may hear by and by, but you would nothave thought it as she came forward to meet you in the blue-and-whiteroom, trembling lest your feet had brought in mud, but too much a ladyto ask you to stand on a newspaper, as she would have liked dearly todo. She was somewhat beyond middle-age, and stoutly, even squarely, built, which gave her a masculine appearance; but she had grown so timidsince Miss Kitty's death that when she spoke you felt that either herfigure or her manner must have been intended for someone else. Inconversation she had a way of ending a sentence in the middle which gaveher a reputation of being "thro'ither, " though an artificial tooth wasthe cause. It was slightly loose, and had she not at times shut hermouth suddenly, and then done something with her tongue, an accidentmight have happened. This tooth fascinated Tommy, and once when she wastalking he cried, excitedly, "Quick, it's coming!" whereupon her mouthsnapped close, and she turned pink in the blue-and-white room. 

Nevertheless Tommy became her favorite, and as he had taught himself toread, after a fashion, in London, where his lesson-books were chieflyplacards and the journal subscribed to by Shovel's father, she ofteninvited him after school hours to the blue-and-white room, where he saton a kitchen chair (with his boots off) and read aloud, very slowly, while Miss Ailie knitted. The volume was from the Thrums Book Club, ofwhich Miss Ailie was one of the twelve members. Each member contributeda book every year, and as their tastes in literature differed, all sortsof books came into the club, and there was one member who invariablygave a ro-ro-romance. He was double-chinned and forty, but theschool-mistress called him the dashing young banker, and for months sheavoided his dangerous contribution. But always there came a black daywhen a desire to read the novel seized her, and she hurried home with itbeneath her rokelay. This year the dashing banker's choice was a lady'snovel called "I Love My Love with an A, " and it was a frivolous tale, those being before the days of the new fiction, with its grand discoverythat women have an equal right with men to grow beards. The hero hadsuch a way with him and was so young (Miss Ailie could not stand them aday more than twenty) that the school-mistress was enraptured and scaredat every page, but she fondly hoped that Tommy did not understand. However, he discovered one day what something printed thus, "D--n, "meant, and he immediately said the word with such unction that MissAilie let fall her knitting. She would have ended the readings then hadnot Agatha been at that point in the arms of an officer who, Miss Ailiefelt almost certain, had a wife in India, and so how could she rest tillshe knew for certain? To track the officer by herself was not to bethought of, to read without knitting being such shameless waste of time, and it was decided to resume the readings on a revised plan: Tommy tosay "stroke" in place of the "D--ns, " and "word we have no concern with"instead of "Darling" and "Little One. "

Miss Ailie was not the only person at the Dovecot who admired Tommy. Though in duty bound, as young patriots, to jeer at him for having beenborn in the wrong place, the pupils of his own age could not resist thecharm of his reminiscences; even Gav Dishart, a son of the manse, listened attentively to him. His great topic was his birthplace, andwhatever happened in Thrums, he instantly made contemptible by citingsomething of the same kind, but on a larger scale, that had happened inLondon; he turned up his nose almost farther than was safe when theysaid Catlaw was a stiff mountain to climb. ("Oh, Gav, if you just sawthe London mountains!") Snow! why they didn't know what snow was inThrums. If they could only see St. Paul's or Hyde Park or Shovel! hecouldn't help laughing at Thrums, he couldn't--Larfing, he said atfirst, but in a short time his Scotch was better than theirs, thoughless unconscious. His English was better also, of course, and you had tospeak in a kind of English when inside the Hanky School; you got yourrevenge at "minutes. " On the whole, Tommy irritated his fellow-pupils agood deal, but they found it difficult to keep away from him. 

He also contrived to enrage the less genteel boys of Monypenny. Theirleader was Corp Shiach, three years Tommy's senior, who had never beeninside a school except once, when he broke hopefully into Ballingall'sbecause of a stirring rumor (nothing in it) that the dominie had hangithimself with his remaining brace; then in order of merit came BirkieFleemister; then, perhaps, the smith's family, called theHaggerty-Taggertys, they were such slovens. When school was over Tommyfrequently stepped out of his boots and stockings, so that he no longerlooked offensively genteel, and then Monypenny was willing to let himjoin in spyo, smuggle bools, kickbonnety, peeries, the preens, suckerspilly, or whatever game was in season, even to the baiting of thePainted Lady, but they would not have Elspeth, who should have beencontent to play dumps with the female Haggerty-Taggertys, but couldenjoy no game of which Tommy was not the larger half. Many times hedeserted her for manlier joys, but though she was out of sight he couldnot forget her longing face, and soon he sneaked off to her; heupbraided her, but he stayed with her. They bore with him for a time, but when they discovered that she had persuaded him (after prayer) toput back the spug's eggs which he had brought home in triumph, then theydrove him from their company, and for a long time afterwards his deadlyenemy was the hard-hitting Corp Shiach. 

Elspeth was not invited to attend the readings of "I Love My Love withan A, " perhaps because there were so many words in it that she had noconcern with, but she knew they ended as the eight-o'clock bell began toring, and it was her custom to meet Tommy a few yards from Aaron's door. Farther she durst not venture in the gloaming through fear of thePainted Lady, for Aaron's house was not far from the fearsome lane thatled to Double Dykes, and even the big boys who made faces at this womanby day ran from her in the dusk. Creepy tales were told of what happenedto those on whom she cast a blighting eye before they could touch coldiron, and Tommy was one of many who kept a bit of cold iron from thesmithy handy in his pocket. On his way home from the readings he neverhad occasion to use it, but at these times he sometimes met Grizel, wholiked to do her shopping in the evenings when her persecutors were moreeasily eluded, and he forced her to speak to him. Not her lonelinessappealed to him, but that look of admiration she had given him when hewas astride of Francie Crabb. For such a look he could pardon manyrebuffs; without it no praise greatly pleased him; he was always on theoutlook for it. 

"I warrant, " he said to her one evening, "you want to have some man-bodyto take care of you the way I take care of Elspeth. "

"No, I don't, " she replied, promptly. 

"Would you no like somebody to love you?"

"Do you mean kissing?" she asked. 

"There's better things in it than that, " he said guardedly; "but if youwant kissing, I--I--Elspeth'll kiss you. "

"Will she want to do it?" inquired Grizel, a little wistfully. 

"I'll make her do it, " Tommy said. 

"I don't want her to do it, " cried Grizel, and he could not draw anotherword from her. However he was sure she thought him a wonder, and whennext they met he challenged her with it. 

"Do you not now?"

"I won't tell you, " answered Grizel, who was never known to lie. 

"You think I'm a wonder, " Tommy persisted, "but you dinna want me toknow you think it. "

Grizel rocked her arms, a quaint way she had when excited, and sheblurted out, "How do you know?"

The look he liked had come back to her face, but he had no time to enjoyit, for just then Elspeth appeared, and Elspeth's jealousy was easilyaroused. 

"I dinna ken you, lassie, " he said coolly to Grizel, and left herstamping her foot at him. She decided never to speak to Tommy again, butthe next time they met he took her into the Den and taught her how tofight. 

It is painful to have to tell that Miss Ailie was the person whoprovided him with the opportunity. In the readings they arrived oneevening at the scene in the conservatory, which has not a single Strokein it, but is so full of Words We have no Concern with that Tommy reeledhome blinking, and next day so disgracefully did he flounder in hislessons that the gentle school-mistress cast up her arms in despair. 

"I don't know what to say to you, " she exclaimed. 

"Fine I know what you want to say, " he retorted, and unfortunately sheasked, "What?"

"Stroke!" he replied, leering horridly. 

"I Love My Love with an A" was returned to the club forthwith (whetherhe really did have a wife in India Miss Ailie never knew) and "Judd onthe Shorter Catechism" took its place. But mark the result. The readingsended at a quarter to eight now, at twenty to eight, at half-past seven, and so Tommy could loiter on the way home without arousing Elspeth'ssuspicion. One evening he saw Grizel cutting her way through theHaggerty-Taggerty group, and he offered to come to her aid if she wouldsay "Help me. " But she refused. 

When, however, the Haggerty-Taggertys were gone she condescended to say, "I shall never, never ask you to help me, but--if you like--you canshow me how to hit without biting my tongue. "

"I'll learn you Shovel's curly ones, " replied Tommy, cordially, and headjourned with her to the Den for that purpose. He said he chose the Denso that Corp Shiach and the others might not interrupt them, but it wasElspeth he was thinking of. 

"You are like Miss Ailie with her cane when she is pandying, " he toldGrizel. "You begin well, but you slacken just when you are going tohit. "

"It is because my hand opens, " Grizel said. 

"And then it ends in a shove, " said her mentor, severely. "You shouldclose your fists like this, with the thumbs inside, and then play dab, this way, that way, yon way. That's what Shovel calls, 'You want it, take it, you've got it. '"

Thus did the hunted girl get her first lesson in scientific warfare inthe Den, and neither she nor Tommy saw the pathos of it. Other lessonsfollowed, and during the rests Grizel told Tommy all that she knew aboutherself. He had won her confidence at last by--by swearing dagont thathe was English also. 

CHAPTER XV

THE MAN WHO NEVER CAME

"Is it true that your mother's a bonny swearer?"

Tommy wanted to find out all about the Painted Lady, and the best waywas to ask. 

"She does not always swear, " Grizel said eagerly. "She sometimes sayssweet, sweet things. "

"What kind of things?"

"I won't tell you. "

"Tell me one. "

"Well, then, 'Beloved. '"

"Word We have no Concern with, " murmured Tommy. He was shocked, butstill curious. "Does she say 'Beloved' to you?" he inquired. 

"No, she says it to him. "

"Him! Wha is he?" Tommy thought he was at the beginning of a discovery, but she answered, uncomfortably, "I don't know. "

"But you've seen him?"

"No, he--he is not there. "

"Not there! How can she speak to him if he's no there?"

"She thinks he is there. He--he comes on a horse. "

"What is the horse like?"

"There is no horse. "

"But you said--"

"She just thinks there is a horse. She hears it. "

"Do you ever hear it?"

"No. "

The girl was looking imploringly into Tommy's face as if begging it tosay that these things need not terrify her, but what he wanted wasinformation. 

"What does the Painted Lady do, " he asked, "when she thinks she hearsthe horse?"

"She blows kisses, and then--then she goes to the Den. "

"What to do?"

"She walks up and down the Den, talking to the man. "

"And him no there?" cried Tommy, scared. 

"No, there is no one there. "

"And syne what do you do?"

"I won't tell you. "

Tommy reflected, and then he said, "She's daft. "

"She is not always daft, " cried Grizel. "There are whole weeks when sheis just sweet. "

"Then what do you make of her being so queer in the Den?"

"I am not sure, but I think--I think there was once a place like the Denat her own home in England, where she used to meet the man long ago, and sometimes she forgets that it is not long ago now. "

"I wonder wha the man was?"

"I think he was my father. "

"I thought you didna ken what a father was?"

"I know now. I think my father was a Scotsman. "

"What makes you think that?"

"I heard a Thrums woman say it would account for my being called Grizel, and I think we came to Scotland to look for him, but it is so long, longago. "

"How long?"

"I don't know. We have lived here four years, but we were looking forhim before that. It was not in this part of Scotland we looked for him. We gave up looking for him before we came here. "

"What made the Painted Lady take a house here, then?"

"I think it was because the Den is so like the place she used to meethim in long ago. "

"What was his name?"

"I don't know. "

"Does the Painted Lady no tell you about yoursel'?"

"No, she is angry if I ask. "

"Her name is Mary, I've heard?"

"Mary Gray is her name, but--but I don't think it is her real name. "

"How, does she no use her real name?"

"Because she wants her own mamma to think she is dead. "

"What makes her want that?"

"I am not sure, but I think it is because there is me. I think it wasnaughty of me to be born. Can you help being born?"

Tommy would have liked to tell her about Reddy, but forbore, because hestill believed that he had acted criminally in that affair, and so forthe time being the inquisition ended. But though he had alreadydiscovered all that Grizel knew about her mother and nearly all thatcurious Thrums ever ferreted out, he returned to the subject at the nextmeeting in the Den. 

"Where does the Painted Lady get her money?"

"Oh, " said Grizel, "that is easy. She just goes into that house calledthe bank, and asks for some, and they give her as much as she likes. "

"Ay, I've heard that, but--"

The remainder of the question was never uttered. Instead, "Hod ahint a tree!" cried Tommy, hastily, and he got behind one himself;but he was too late; Elspeth was upon them; she had caught them togetherat last. 

Tommy showed great cunning. "Pretend you have eggs in your hand, " hewhispered to Grizel, and then, in a loud voice, he said: "Think shame ofyoursel', lassie, for harrying birds' nests. It's a good thing I sawyou, and brought you here to force you to put them back. Is that you, Elspeth? I catched this limmer wi' eggs in her hands (and the poor birdssic bonny singers, too!), and so I was forcing her to--"

But it would not do. Grizel was ablaze with indignation. "You are ahorrid story-teller, " she said, "and if I had known you were ashamed ofbeing seen with me, I should never have spoken to you. Take him, " shecried, giving Tommy a push toward Elspeth, "I don't want the mean littlestory-teller. "

"He's not mean!" retorted Elspeth. 

"Nor yet little!" roared Tommy. 

"Yes, he is, " insisted Grizel, "and I was not harrying nests. He camewith me here because he wanted to. "

"Just for the once, " he said, hastily. 

"This is the sixth time, " said Grizel, and then she marched out of theDen. Tommy and Elspeth followed slowly, and not a word did either sayuntil they were in front of Aaron's house. Then by the light in thewindow Tommy saw that Elspeth was crying softly, and he felt miserable. 

"I was just teaching her to fight, " he said humbly. 

"You looked like it!" she replied, with the scorn that comesoccasionally to the sweetest lady. 

He tried to comfort her in various tender ways, but none of themsufficed this time, "You'll marry her as soon as you're a man, " sheinsisted, and she would not let this tragic picture go. It was a casefor his biggest efforts, and he opened his mouth to threaten instantself-destruction unless she became happy at once. But he had threatenedthis too frequently of late, even shown himself drawing the knife acrosshis throat. 

As usual the right idea came to him at the right moment. "If you justkent how I did it for your sake, " he said, with gentle dignity, "youwouldna blame me; you would think me noble. "

She would not help him with a question, and after waiting for it heproceeded. "If you just kent wha she is! And I thought she was dead!What a start it gave me when I found out it was her!"

"Wha is she?" cried Elspeth, with a sudden shiver. 

"I was trying to keep it frae you, " replied Tommy, sadly. 

She seized his arm. "Is it Reddy?" she gasped, for the story of Reddyhad been a terror to her all her days. 

"She doesna ken I was the laddie that diddled her in London, " he said, "and I promise you never to let on, Elspeth. I--I just went to the Denwith her to say things that would put her off the scent. If I hadna donethat she might have found out and ta'en your place here and tried topack you off to the Painted Lady's. "

Elspeth stared at him, the other grief already forgotten, and he thoughthe was getting on excellently, when she cried with passion, "I don'tbelieve as it is Reddy!" and ran into the house. 

"Dinna believe it, then!" disappointed Tommy shouted, and now he was insuch a rage with himself that his heart hardened against her. He soughtthe company of old Blinder. 

Unfortunately Elspeth had believed it, and her woe was the more pitifulbecause she saw at once, what had never struck Tommy, that it would bewicked to keep Grizel out of her rights. "I'll no win to Heaven now, "she said, despairingly, to herself, for to offer to change places withGrizel was beyond her courage, and she tried some childish ways ofgetting round God, such as going on her knees and saying, "I'm solittle, and I hinna no mother!" That was not a bad way. 

Another way was to give Grizel everything she had, except Tommy. Shecollected all her treasures, the bottle with the brass top that she hadgot from Shovel's old girl, the "housewife" that was a present from MissAilie, the teetotum, the pretty buttons Tommy had won for her at thegame of buttony, the witchy marble, the twopence she had already savedfor the Muckley, these and some other precious trifles she made a littlebundle of and set off for Double Dykes with them, intending to leavethem at the door. This was Elspeth, who in ordinary circumstances wouldnot have ventured near that mysterious dwelling even in daylight and inTommy's company. There was no room for vulgar fear in her burstinglittle heart to-night. 

Tommy went home anon, meaning to be whatever kind of boy she seemedmost in need of, but she was not in the house, she was not in thegarden; he called her name, and it was only Birkie Fleemister, mimickingher, who answered, "Oh, Tommy, come to me!" But Birkie had news for him. 

"Sure as death, " he said in some awe, "I saw Elspeth ganging yont thedouble dykes, and I cried to her that the Painted Lady would do her amischief, but she just ran on. "

Elspeth in the double dykes--alone--and at night! Oh, how Tommy wouldhave liked to strike himself now! She must have believed his wicked lieafter all, and being so religious she had gone to--He gave himself notime to finish the thought. The vital thing was that she was in peril, he seemed to hear her calling to him, "Oh, Tommy, come quick! oh, Tommy, oh, Tommy!" and in an agony of apprehension he ran after her. But by thetime he got to the beginning of the double dykes he knew that she mustbe at the end of them, and in the Painted Lady's maw, unless theirrepute by night had blown her back. He paused on the Coffin Brig, whichis one long narrow stone; and along the funnel of the double dykes hesent the lonely whisper, "Elspeth, are you there?" He tried to shout it, but no boy could shout there after nightfall in the Painted Lady's time, and when the words had travelled only a little way along the doubledykes, they came whining back to him, like a dog despatched on uncannywork. He heard no other sound save the burn stealing on tiptoe from anevil place, and the uneasy rustling of tree-tops, and his own breathing. 

The Coffin Brig remains, but the double dykes have fallen bit by bitinto the burn, and the path they made safe is again as naked as when theKingoldrum Jacobites filed along it, and sweer they were, to the supportof the Pretender. It traverses a ridge and is streaked with slipperybeech-roots which like to fling you off your feet, on the one side intoa black burn twenty feet below, on the other down a pleasant slope. Thedouble dykes were built by a farmer fond of his dram, to stop the tongueof a water-kelpie which lived in a pool below and gave him a turn everynight he staggered home by shouting, "Drunk again, Peewitbrae!" andannouncing, with a smack of the lips, that it had a bed ready for him inthe burn. So Peewitbrae built two parallel dykes two feet apart and twofeet high, between which he could walk home like a straight man. Hiscunning took the heart out of the brute, and water-kelpies have not beenseen near Thrums since about that time. 

By day even girls played at palaulays here, and it was a favorite resortof boys, who knew that you were a man when you could stand on both dykesat once. They also stripped boldly to the skin and then lookeddoubtfully at the water. But at night! To test your nerves you walkedalone between the double dykes, and the popular practice was to startoff whistling, which keeps up the courage. At the point where you turnedto run back (the Painted Lady after you, or so you thought) you droppeda marked stone, which told next day how far you had ventured. CorpShiach long held the championship, and his stone was ostentatiouslyfixed in one of the dykes with lime. Tommy had suffered at his hands forsaying that Shovel's mark was thirty yards farther on. 

With head bent to the level of the dykes, though it was almost a mirknight beneath the trees, and one arm outstretched before him straight asan elvint, Tommy faced this fearful passage, sometimes stopping to touchcold iron, but on the whole hanging back little, for Elspeth was inperil. Soon he reached the paling that was not needed to keep boys outof the Painted Lady's garden, one of the prettiest and best-tendedflower-gardens in Thrums, and crawling through where some spars hadfallen, he approached the door as noiseless as an Indian brave afterscalps. There he crouched, with a heart that was going like a shuttle ona loom, and listened for Elspeth's voice. 

On a night he had come nearly as far as this before, but in the tail ofbig fellows with a turnip lantern. Into the wood-work of the east windowthey had thrust a pin, to which a button was tied, and the button wasalso attached to a long string. They hunkered afar off and pulled thisstring, and then the button tapped the death-rap on the window, and thesport was successful, for the Painted Lady screamed. But suddenly thedoor opened and they were put to flight by the fierce barking of a dog. One said that the brute nabbed him in the leg, another saw the vivetongue of it, a third played lick at it with the lantern; this wasbefore they discovered that the dog had been Grizel imitating one, braveGrizel, always ready to protect her mother, and never allowed to cherishthe childish fears that were hers by birthright. 

Tommy could not hear a sound from within, but he had startling proofthat Elspeth was near. His foot struck against something at the door, and, stooping, he saw that it was a little bundle of the treasures shevalued most. So she had indeed come to stay with the Painted Lady ifGrizel proved merciless! Oh, what a black he had been!

Though originally a farm-house, the cottage was no larger than Aaron's, and of its two front windows only one showed a light, and that through ablind. Tommy sidled round the house in the hope that the small eastwindow would be more hospitable, and just as he saw that it wasblindless something that had been crouching rose between him and it. 

"Let go!" he cried, feeling the Painted Lady's talons in his neck. 

"Tommy!" was the answer. 

"It's you, Elspeth?"

"Is it you, Tommy?"

"Of course. Whisht!"

"But say it is. "

"It is. "

"Oh, Tommy, I'm so fleid!"

He drew her farther from the window and told her it had all been awicked lie, and she was so glad that she forgot to chide him, but hedenounced himself, and he was better than Elspeth even at that. However, when he learned what had brought her here he dried his eyes and skulkedto the door again and brought back her belongings, and then she wantedhim to come away at once. But the window fascinated him; he knew heshould never find courage to come here again, and he glided toward it, signing to Elspeth to accompany him. They were now too near Double Dykesfor speaking to be safe, but he tapped his head as a warning to her toremove her hat, for a woman's head-gear always reaches a window in frontof its wearer, and he touched his cold iron and passed it to her as ifit were a snuff-mull. Thus fortified, they approached the windowfearfully, holding hands and stepping high, like a couple in a minuet. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE PAINTED LADY

It had been the ordinary dwelling room of the unknown poor, the meanlittle "end"--ah, no, no, the noblest chamber in the annals of theScottish nation. Here on a hard anvil has its character been fashionedand its history made at rush-lights and its God ever most prominent. Always within reach of hands which trembled with reverence as theyturned its broad page could be found the Book that is compensation forall things, and that was never more at home than on bare dressers andworm-eaten looms. If you were brought up in that place and haveforgotten it, there is no more hope for you. 

But though still recalling its past, the kitchen into which Tommy andElspeth peered was trying successfully to be something else. Theplate-rack had been a fixture, and the coffin-bed and the wooden bole, or board in the wall, with its round hole through which you thrust yourhand when you wanted salt, and instead of a real mantelpiece there was aquaint imitation one painted over the fireplace. There were some piecesof furniture too, such as were usual in rooms of the kind, but most ofthem, perhaps in ignorance, had been put to novel uses, like theplate-rack, where the Painted Lady kept her many pretty shoes instead ofher crockery. Gossip said she had a looking-glass of such prodigioussize that it stood on the floor, and Tommy nudged Elspeth to signify, "There it is!" Other nudges called her attention to the carpet, thespinet, a chair that rocked like a cradle, and some smaller oddities, ofwhich the queerest was a monster velvet glove hanging on the nail thatby rights belonged to the bellows. The Painted Lady always put on thisglove before she would touch the coals, which diverted Tommy, who knewthat common folk lift coals with their bare hands while society uses thefringe of its second petticoat. 

It might have been a boudoir through which a kitchen and bedroom hadwandered, spilling by the way, but though the effect was tawdry, everything had been rubbed clean by that passionate housewife, Grizel. She was on her knees at present ca'ming the hearth-stone a beautifulblue, and sometimes looking round to address her mother, who was busyamong her plants and cut flowers. Surely they were know-nothings whocalled this woman silly, and blind who said she painted. It was a littleface all of one color, dingy pale, not chubby, but retaining the softcontours of a child's face, and the features were singularly delicate. She was clad in a soft gray, and her figure was of the smallest; therewas such an air of youth about her that Tommy thought she could become agirl again by merely shortening her frock, not such a girl as gauntGrizel, though, who would have looked a little woman had she let herfrock down. In appearance indeed the Painted Lady resembled her plaindaughter not at all, but in manner in a score of ways, as when sherocked her arms joyously at sight of a fresh bud or tossed her brownhair from her brows with a pretty gesture that ought, God knows, to havebeen for some man to love. The watchers could not hear what she andGrizel said, but evidently it was pleasant converse, and mother andchild, happy in each other's company, presented a picture as sweet as itis common, though some might have complained that they were doing eachother's work. But the Painted Lady's delight in flowers was a scandal inThrums, where she would stand her ground if the roughest boy approachedher with roses in his hand, and she gave money for them, which was onereason why the people thought her daft. She was tending her flowers nowwith experienced eye, smelling them daintily, and every time she touchedthem it was a caress. 

The watchers retired into the field to compare impressions, and Elspethsaid emphatically, "I like her, Tommy, I'm not none fleid at her. "

Tommy had liked her also, but being a man he said, "You forget thatshe's an ill one. "

"She looks as if she didna ken that hersel', " answered Elspeth, andthese words of a child are the best picture we can hope to get of thePainted Lady. 

On their return to the window, they saw that Grizel had finished herca'ming and was now sitting on the floor nursing a doll. Tommy had notthought her the kind to shut her eyes to the truth about dolls, but shewas hugging this one passionately. Without its clothes it was of thenine-pin formation, and the painted eyes and mouth had been incorporatedlong since in loving Grizel's system; but it became just sweet as sheswaddled it in a long yellow frock and slipped its bullet head into aduck of a pink bonnet. These articles of attire and the others that youbegin with had all been made by Grizel herself out of the coloredtissue-paper that shopkeepers wrap round brandy bottles. The doll's namewas Griselda, and it was exactly six months old, and Grizel had foundit, two years ago, lying near the Coffin Brig, naked and almost dead. 

It was making the usual fuss at having its clothes put on, and Grizelhad to tell it frequently that of all the babies--which shamed it nowand again, but kept her so occupied that she forgot her mother. ThePainted Lady had sunk into the rocking-chair, and for a time she amusedherself with it, but by and by it ceased to rock, and as she sat lookingstraight before her a change came over her face. Elspeth's handtightened its clutch on Tommy's; the Painted Lady had begun to talk toherself. 

She was not speaking aloud, for evidently Grizel, whose back was towardher, heard nothing, but her lips moved and she nodded her head andsmiled and beckoned, apparently to the wall, and the childish facerapidly became vacant and foolish. This mood passed, and now she wassitting very still, only her head moving, as she looked in apprehensionand perplexity this way and that, like one who no longer knew where shewas, nor who was the child by the fire. When at last Grizel turned andobserved the change, she may have sighed, but there was no fear in herface; the fear was on the face of her mother, who shrank from her inunmistakable terror and would have screamed at a harsh word or a hastymovement. Grizel seemed to know this, for she remained where she was, and first she nodded and smiled reassuringly to her mother, and then, leaning forward, took her hand and stroked it softly and began to talk. She had laid aside her doll, and with the act become a woman again. 

The Painted Lady was soothed, but her bewildered look came and went, asif she only caught at some explanation Grizel was making, to lose it ina moment. Yet she seemed most eager to be persuaded. The little watchersat this queer play saw that Grizel was saying things to her which sherepeated docilely and clung to and lost hold of. Often Grizelillustrated her words by a sort of pantomime, as when she sat down on achair and placed the doll in her lap, then sat down on her mother's lap;and when she had done this several times Tommy took Elspeth into thefield to say to her:

"Do you no see? She means as she is the Painted Lady's bairn, just thesame as the doll is her bairn. "

If the Painted Lady needed to be told this every minute she was daftindeed, and Elspeth could peer no longer at the eerie spectacle. Toleave Tommy, however, was equally difficult, so she crouched at his feetwhen he returned to the window, drawn there hastily by the sound ofmusic. 

The Painted Lady could play on the spinet beautifully, but Grizel couldnot play, though it was she who was trying to play now. She was runningher fingers over the notes, producing noises from them, while she swayedgrotesquely on her seat and made comic faces. Her object was to captureher mother's mind, and she succeeded for a short time, but soon itfloated away from all control, and the Painted Lady fell a-shakingviolently. Then Grizel seemed to be alarmed, and her arms rockeddespairingly, but she went to her mother and took loving hold of her, and the woman clung to her child in a way pitiful to see. She was onGrizel's knee now, but she still shivered as if in a deadly chill, andher feet rattled on the floor, and her arms against the sides of thechair. Grizel pinned the trembling arms with her own and twisted herlegs round her mother's, and still the Painted Lady's tremors shookthem both, so that to Tommy they were as two people wrestling. 

The shivering slowly lessened and at last ceased, but this seemed tomake Grizel no less unhappy. To her vehement attempt to draw hermother's attention she got no response; the Painted Lady was hearkeningintently for some sound other than Grizel's voice, and only once did shelook at her child. Then it was with cruel, ugly eyes, and at the samemoment she shoved Grizel aside so viciously that it was almost a blow. Grizel sat down sorrowfully beside her doll, like one aware that shecould do no more, and her mother at once forgot her. What was shelistening for so eagerly? Was it for the gallop of a horse? Tommystrained his ears. 

"Elspeth--speak low--do you hear anything?"

"No; I'm ower fleid to listen. "

"Whisht! do you no hear a horse?"

"No, everything's terrible still. Do you hear a horse?"

"I--I think I do, but far awa'. "

His imagination was on fire. Did he hear a distant galloping or did heonly make himself hear it? He had bent his head, and Elspeth, lookingaffrighted into his face, whispered, "I hear it too, oh, Tommy, so doI!"

And the Painted Lady had heard it. She kissed her hand toward the Denseveral times, and each time Tommy seemed to hear that distantgalloping. All the sweetness had returned to her face now, and with it asurging joy, and she rocked her arms exultantly, but quickly controlledthem lest Grizel should see. For evidently Grizel must be cheated, andso the Painted Lady became very sly. She slipped off her shoes to beable to make her preparations noiselessly, and though at all other timesher face expressed the rapture of love, when she glanced at her child itwas suspiciously and with a gleam of hatred. Her preparations were forgoing out. She was long at the famous mirror, and when she left it herhair was elaborately dressed and her face so transformed that firstTommy exclaimed "Bonny!" and then corrected himself with a scornful"Paint!" On her feet she put a foolish little pair of red shoes, on herhead a hat too gay with flowers, and across her shoulders a flimsy whiteshawl at which the night air of Thrums would laugh. Her every movementwas light and cautious and accompanied by side-glances at Grizel, whooccasionally looked at her, when the Painted Lady immediately pretendedto be tending her plants again. She spoke to Grizel sweetly to deceiveher, and shot baleful glances at her next moment. Tommy saw that Grizelhad taken up her doll once more and was squeezing it to her breast. Sheknew very well what was going on behind her back. 

Suddenly Tommy took to his heels, Elspeth after him. He had seen thePainted Lady coming on her tip-toes to the window. They saw the windowopen and a figure in a white shawl creep out of it, as she had doubtlessescaped long ago by another window when the door was barred. They lostsight of her at once. 

"What will Grizel do now?" Tommy whispered, and he would have returnedto his watching place, but Elspeth pointed to the window. Grizel wasthere closing it, and next moment the lamp was extinguished. They hearda key turn in the lock, and presently Grizel, carrying warm wraps, passed very near them and proceeded along the double dykes, not anxiousapparently to keep her mother in view, but slowly, as if she knew whereto find her. She went into the Den, where Tommy dared not follow her, but he listened at the stile and in the awful silence he fancied heheard the neighing of a horse. 

The next time he met Grizel he was yearning to ask her how she spentthat night, but he knew she would not answer; it would be a long timebefore she gave him her confidence again. He offered her his piece ofcold iron, however, and explained why he carried it, whereupon she flungit across the road, crying, "You horrid boy, do you think I amfrightened at my mamma!" But when he was out of sight she came back andslipped the cold iron into her pocket. 

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH TOMMY SOLVES THE WOMAN PROBLEM

Pity made Elspeth want to like the Painted Lady's child now, but her ownrules of life were all from a book never opened by Grizel, who made herreligion for herself and thought God a swear; she also despised Elspethfor being so dependent on Tommy, and Elspeth knew it. The two greatsubjects being barred thus, it was not likely that either girl, despitesome attempts on Elspeth's part, should find out the best that was inthe other, without which friendship has no meaning, and they would havegone different ways had not Tommy given an arm to each. He, indeed, hadas little in common with Grizel, for most conspicuous of his traits wasthe faculty of stepping into other people's shoes and remaining thereuntil he became someone else; his individuality consisted in havingnone, while she could only be herself and was without tolerance forthose who were different; he had at no time in his life the least desireto make other persons like himself, but if they were not like Grizel sherocked her arms and cried, "Why, why, why?" which is the mark of the"womanly" woman. But his tendency to be anyone he was interested inimplied enormous sympathy (for the time being), and though Grizelspurned his overtures, this only fired his pride of conquest. We can allget whatever we want if we are quite determined to have it (though it bea king's daughter), and in the end Tommy vanquished Grizel. How? Byoffering to let her come into Aaron's house and wash it and dust it andca'm it, "just as if you were our mother, " an invitation she could notresist. To you this may seem an easy way, but consider the penetrationhe showed in thinking of it. It came to him one day when he saw her liftthe smith's baby out of the gutter, and hug it with a passionate delightin babies. 

"She's so awid to do it, " he said basely to Elspeth, "that we needna leton how much we want it done. " And he also mentioned her eagerness toAaron as a reason why she should be allowed to do it for nothing. 

For Aaron to hold out against her admittance would have been to defraudhimself, for she transformed his house. When she saw the brass lining ofthe jelly-pan discolored, and that the stockings hanging from the stringbeneath the mantelpiece had given way where the wearers were hardest onthem; when she found dripping adhering to a cold frying-pan instead ofin a "pig, " and the pitcher leaking and the carrot-grater stopped--whenthese and similar discoveries were made by Grizel, was it a squeal ofhorror she gave that such things should be, or a cry of rapture becauseto her had fallen the task of setting them right?

"She just made a jump for the besom, " was Tommy's graphic description ofhow it all began. 

You should have seen Grizel on the hoddy-table knocking nails into thewall. The hoddy-table is so called because it goes beneath the largerone at night, like a chicken under its mother, and Grizel, with thenails in her mouth, used them up so quickly that you would have swornshe swallowed half of them; yet she rocked her arms because she couldnot be at all four walls at once. She rushed about the room until shewas dizzy, and Tommy knew the moment to cry "Grip her, she'll tumble!"when he and Elspeth seized her and put her on a stool. 

It is on the hoddy-table that you bake and iron. "There's not abaking-board in the house, " Elspeth explained. "There is!" cried Grizel, there and then converting a drawer into one. 

Between her big bannocks she made baby ones, for no better reason thanthat she was so fond of babies, and she kissed the baby ones and said, "Oh, the loves, they are just sweet!" and she felt for them when Tommytook a bite. She could go so quickly between the board and the girdlethat she was always at one end of the course or the other, but nevergave you time to say at which end, and on the limited space round thefire she could balance such a number of bannocks that they were as mucha wonder as the Lord's prayer written on a sixpence. Such a vigilant eyeshe kept on them, too, that they dared not fall. Yet she had never beentaught to bake; a good-natured neighbor had now and again allowed her tolook on. 

Then her ironing! Even Aaron opened his mouth on this subject, Blinderbeing his confidant. "I thought there was a smell o' burning, " he said, "and so I went butt the house; but man, as soon as my een lighted on herI minded of my mother at the same job. The crittur was so busy with herwork that she looked as if, though the last trumpet had blawn, she wouldjust have cried, 'I canna come till my ironing's done!' Ay, I went benwithout a word. "

But best of all was to see Grizel "redding up" on a Saturday afternoon. Where were Tommy and Elspeth then? They were shut up in the coffin-bedto be out of the way, and could scarce have told whether they fledthither or were wrapped into it by her energetic arms. Even Aaron darednot cross the floor until it was sanded. "I believe, " he said, trying tojest, "you would like to shut me up in the bed too!" "I should just loveit, " she cried, eagerly; "will you go?" It is an inferior woman who hasa sense of humor when there is a besom in her hand. 

Thus began great days to Grizel, "sweet" she called them, for she hadmany of her mother's words, and a pretty way of emphasizing them withher plain face that turned them all into superlatives. But though Tommyand Elspeth were her friends now, her mouth shut obstinately the momentthey mentioned the Painted Lady; she regretted ever having given Tommyher confidence on that subject, and was determined not to do so again. He did not dare tell her that he had once been at the east window of herhome, but often he and Elspeth spoke to each other of that adventure, and sometimes they woke in their garret bed thinking they heard thehorseman galloping by. Then they crept closer to each other, andwondered whether Grizel was cosey in her bed or stalking an eerie figurein the Den. 

Aaron said little, but he was drawn to the girl, who had not theself-consciousness of Tommy and Elspeth in his presence, and sometimeshe slipped a penny into her hand. The pennies were not spent, they werehoarded for the fair, or Muckle Friday, or Muckley, great day of theyear in Thrums. If you would know how Tommy was making ready for thismighty festival, listen. 

One of his sources of income was the _Mentor_, a famous London weeklypaper, which seemed to visitors to be taken in by every person ofposition in Thrums. It was to be seen not only in parlors, but on thearmchair at the Jute Bank, in the gauger's gig, in the Spittal factor'sdog-cart, on a shoemaker's form, protruding from Dr. McQueen's tailpocket and from Mr. Duthie's oxter pocket, on Cathro's school-desk, inthe Rev. Mr. Dishart's study, in half a dozen farms. Miss Ailiecompelled her little servant, Gavinia, to read the _Mentor_, and stoodover her while she did it; the phrase, "this week's, " meant this week's_Mentor_. Yet the secret must be told: only one copy of the paper cameto Thrums weekly; it was subscribed for by the whole reading publicbetween them, and by Miss Ailie's influence Tommy had become the boy whocarried it from house to house. 

This brought him a penny a week, but so heavy were his incidentalexpenses that he could have saved little for the Muckley had not anotherorganization given him a better chance. It was a society, newly started, for helping the deserving poor; they had to subscribe not less than apenny weekly to it, and at the end of the year each subscriber was to begiven fuel, etc. , to the value of double what he or she had put in. "Thethree Ps" was a nickname given to the society by Dr. McQueen, because itclaimed to distribute "Peats and Potatoes with Propriety, " but he wasone of its heartiest supporters nevertheless. The history of thissociety in the first months of its existence not only shows how Tommybecame a moneyed man, but gives a glimpse into the character of those itbenefited. 

Miss Ailie was treasurer, and the pennies were to be brought to her onMonday evenings between the hours of seven and eight. The first Mondayevening found her ready in the school-room, in her hand the famouspencil that wrote red with the one end and blue with the other; by herside her assistant, Mr. T. Sandys, a pen balanced on his ear. For awhole hour did they wait, but though many of the worthiest poor had beenenrolled as members, the few who appeared with their pennies werenotoriously riff-raff. At eight Miss Ailie disconsolately sent Tommyhome, but he was back in five minutes. 

"There's a mask of them, " he told her, excitedly, "hanging about, butfeared to come in because the others would see them. They're ashamed tohave it kent that they belong to a charity society, and Meggy Robbie iswandering round the Dovecot wi' her penny wrapped in a paper, and WattyRattray and Ronny-On is walking up and down the brae pretending theydinna ken one another, and auld Connacher's Jeanie Ann says she has beenfour times round the town waiting for Kitty Elshioner to go away, andthere's a one-leggit man hodding in the ditch, and Tibbie Birse is outwi' a lantern counting them. "

Miss Ailie did not know what to do. "Here's Jeanie Ann's penny, " Tommycontinued, opening his hand, "and this is three bawbees frae KittyElshioner and you and me is no to tell a soul they've joined. "

A furtive tapping was heard at the door. It was Ronny-On, who hadskulked forward with twopence, but Gavinia answered his knock, so hejust said, "Ay, Gavinia, it's yoursel'. Well, I'll be stepping, " andwould have retired had not Miss Ailie caught him. Even then he said, "Three bawbees is to you to lay by, and one bawbee to Gavinia no totell. "

To next Monday evening Miss Ailie now looked with apprehension, butTommy lay awake that night until, to use a favorite crow of his, he"found a way. " He borrowed the school-mistress's blue-and-red pencil andsought the houses of the sensitive poor with the following effect. Onesample will suffice; take him at the door of Meggy Robbie in the WestMuir, which he flung open with the effrontery of a tax-collector. 

"You're a three P, " he said, with a wave of his pencil. 

"I'm no sic thing!" cried the old lady. 

"It winna do, woman, " Tommy said sternly. "Miss Ailie telled me you paidin your first penny on the chap of ten. " He wetted the pencil on histongue to show that it was vain to trifle with him, and Meggy bowed herhead. 

"It'll be through the town that I've joined, " she moaned, but Tommyexplained that he was there to save her. 

"I'm willing to come to your house, " he said, "and collect the moneyevery week, and not a soul will I tell except the committee. "

"Kitty Elshioner would see you coming, " said Meggy. 

"No, no, I'll creep yont the hedge and climb the hen-house. "

"But it would be a' found out at any rate, " she remembered, "when I gofor the peats and things at Hogmanay. "

"It needna be, " eagerly replied Tommy. "I'll bring them to you in abarrow in the dead o' night. "

"Could you?" she cried passionately, and he promised he would, and itmay be mentioned here that he did. 

"And what for yoursel'?" she inquired. 

"A bawbee, " he said, "the night afore the Muckley. "

The bargain was made, but before he could get away, "Tell me, laddie, "said Meggy, coaxingly, "has Kitty Elshioner joined?" They were all ascurious to know who had joined as they were anxious to keep their ownmembership a secret; but Tommy betrayed none, at least none who agreedto his proposal. There were so many of these that on the night beforethe Muckley he had thirteen pence. 

"And you was doing good all the time you was making the thirteen pence, "Elspeth said, fondly. "I believe that was the reason you did it. "

"I believe it was!" Tommy exclaimed. He had not thought of this before, but it was easy to him to believe anything. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MUCKLEY

Every child in Thrums went to bed on the night before the Muckleyhugging a pirly, or, as the vulgar say, a money-box; and all the pirlieswere ready for to-morrow, that is to say, the mouths of them had beenwidened with gully knives by owners now so skilful at the jerk whichsends their contents to the floor that pirlies they were no longer. "Disgorge!" was the universal cry, or, in the vernacular, "Out you come, you sweer deevils!"

Not a coin but had its history, not a boy who was unable to pick out hisown among a hundred. The black one came from the 'Sosh, the bent lad hegot for carrying in Ronny-On's sticks. Oh michty me, sure as death hehad nearly forgotten the one with the warts on it. Which to spend first?The goldy one? Na faags, it was ower ill to come by. The scartit one?No, no, it was a lucky. Well, then, the one found in the rat's hole?(That was a day!) Ay, dagont, ay, we'll make the first blatter with it. 

It was Tommy's first Muckley, and the report that he had thirteen pencebrought him many advisers about its best investment. Even Corp Shiach(five pence) suspended hostilities for this purpose. "Mind this, " hesaid solemnly, "there's none o' the candies as sucks so long asCaliforny's Teuch and Tasty. Other kinds may be sweeter, but Teuch andTasty lasts the longest, and what a grip it has! It pulls out yourteeth!" Corp seemed to think that this was a recommendation. 

"I'm nane sure o' Teuch and Tasty, " Birkie said. "If you dinna keep awatch on it, it slips ower when you're swallowing your spittle. "

"Then you should tie a string to it, " suggested Tommy, who was thoughtmore of from that hour. 

_Beware of Pickpockets!_ Had it not been for placards with this gloriousannouncement (it is the state's first printed acknowledgment that boysand girls form part of the body politic) you might have thought that thenight before the Muckley was absurdly like other nights. Not a show hadarrived, not a strange dog, no romantic figures were wandering thestreets in search of lodgings, no stands had sprung up in the square. You could pass hours in pretending to fear that when the morning camethere would be no fairyland. And all the time you _knew_. 

About ten o'clock Ballingall's cat was observed washing its face, adeliberate attempt to bring on rain. It was immediately put to death. 

Tommy and Elspeth had agreed to lie awake all night; if Tommy nippedElspeth, Elspeth would nip Tommy. Other children had made the samearrangement, though the experienced ones were aware that it would fail. If it was true that all the witches were dead, then the streets ofstands and shows and gaming-tables and shooting-galleries were erectedby human hands, and it followed that were you to listen through thenight you must hear the hammers. But always in the watches the god ofthe Muckley came unseen and glued your eyes, as if with Teuch and Tasty, and while you slept--Up you woke with a start. What was it you were tomind as soon as you woke? Listen! That's a drum beating! It's theMuckley! They are all here! It has begun! Oh, michty, michty, michty, whaur's my breeks?

When Tommy, with Elspeth and Grizel, set off excitedly for the town, thecountry folk were already swarming in. The Monypenny road was thick withthem, braw loons in blue bonnets with red bobs to them, tartanwaistcoats, scarves of every color, woollen shirts as gay, and thestrutting wearers in two minds--whether to take off the scarf to displaythe shirt, or hide the shirt and trust to the scarf. Came lassies, too, in wincey bodices they were like to burst through, and they werelistening apprehensively as they ploughed onward for a tearing at theseams. There were red-headed lasses, yellow-chy-headed and black-headed, blue-shawled and red-shawled lasses; boots on every one of them, stockings almost as common, the skirt kilted up for the present, butdown it should go when they were in the thick of things, and then itmust take care of itself. All were solemn and sheepish as yet, but waita bit. 

The first-known face our three met was Corp. He was only able to sign tothem, because Californy's specialty had already done its work and gluedhis teeth together. He was off to the smithy to be melted, but gave themto understand that though awkward it was glorious. Then came Birkie, whohad sewn up the mouths of his pockets, all but a small slit in each, asa precaution against pickpockets, and was now at his own request beingheld upside down by the Haggerty-Taggertys on the chance that ahalfpenny which had disappeared mysteriously might fall out. A moretragic figure was Francie Crabb (one and seven pence), who, like a mad, mad thing, had taken all his money to the fair at once. In ten minuteshe had bought fourteen musical instruments. 

Tommy and party had not yet reached the celebrated corner of the westtown end where the stands began, but they were near it, and he stoppedto give Grizel and Elspeth his final instructions: "(1) Keep your moneyin your purse, and your purse in your hand, and your hand in yourpocket; (2) if you lose me, I'll give Shovel's whistle, and syne youmaun squeeze and birse your way back to me. "

Now then, are you ready? Bang! They were in it. Strike up, ye fiddlers;drums, break; tooters, fifers, at it for your lives; trumpets, blow;bagpipes, skirl; music-boxes, all together now--Tommy has arrived. 

Even before he had seen Thrums, except with his mother's eye, Tommy knewthat the wise begin the Muckley by measuring its extent. That the squareand adjoining wynds would be crammed was a law of nature, but boyhooddrew imaginary lines across the Roods, the west town end, the east townend, and the brae, and if the stands did not reach these there had beenretrogression. Tommy found all well in two quarters, got a nasty shockon the brae, but medicine for it in the Roods; on the whole, yelled ahundred children, by way of greeting to each other, a better Muckleythan ever. 

From those who loved them best, the more notable Muckleys gotdistinctive names for convenience of reference. As shall beostentatiously shown in its place, there was a Muckley called (and byCorp Shiach, too) after Tommy, but this, his first, was dubbed Sewster'sMuckley, in honor of a seamstress who hanged herself that day in theThree-cornered Wood. Poor little sewster, she had known joyous Muckleystoo, but now she was up in the Three-cornered Wood hanging herself, agednineteen. I know nothing more of her, except that in her maiden dayswhen she left the house her mother always came to the door to lookproudly after her. 

How to describe the scene, when owing to the throng a boy could onlypeer at it between legs or through the crook of a woman's arm? Shovelwould have run up ploughmen to get his bird's-eye view, and he couldhave told Tommy what he saw, and Tommy could have made a picture of itin his mind, every figure ten feet high. But perhaps to be lost in itwas best. You had but to dive and come up anywhere to find somethingamazing; you fell over a box of jumping-jacks into a new world. 

Everyone to his taste. If you want Tommy's sentiments, here they are, condensed: "The shows surpass everything else on earth. Four streets ofthem in the square! The best is the menagerie, because there is theloudest roaring there. Kick the caravans and you increase the roaring. Admission, however, prohibitive (threepence). More economical to standoutside the show of the 'Mountain Maid and the Shepherd's Bride' andwatch the merriman saying funny things to the monkey. Take care youdon't get in front of the steps, else you will be pressed up by thosebehind and have to pay before you have decided that you want to go in. When you fling pennies at the Mountain Maid and the Shepherd's Bridethey stop play-acting and scramble for them. Go in at night when thereare drunk ploughmen to fling pennies. The Fat Wife with the Golden Lockslets you put your fingers in her arms, but that is soon over. 'TheSlave-driver and his Victims. ' Not worth the money; they are notblooding. To Jerusalem and Back in a Jiffy. This is a swindle. You justkeek through holes. "

But Elspeth was of a different mind. She liked To Jerusalem and Backbest, and gave the Slave-driver and his Victims a penny to beChristians. The only show she disliked was the wax-work, where wasperformed the "Tragedy of Tiffano and the Haughty Princess. " Tiffanoloved the woodman's daughter, and so he would not have the HaughtyPrincess, and so she got a magician to turn him into a pumpkin, and thenshe ate him. What distressed Elspeth was that Tiffano could never get toheaven now, and all the consolation Tommy, doing his best, could giveher was, "He could go, no doubt he could go, but he would have to takethe Haughty Princess wi' him, and he would be sweer to do that. "

Grizel reflected: "If I had a whip like the one the Slave-driver hasshouldn't I lash the boys who hoot my mamma! I wish I could turn boysinto pumpkins. The Mountain Maid wore a beautiful muslin with gold lace, but she does not wash her neck. "

Lastly, let Corp have his say: "I looked at the outside of the shows, but always landed back at Californy's stand. Sucking is better nor nearanything. The Teuch and Tasty is stickier than ever. I have lost twateeth. The Mountain Maid is biding all night at Tibbie Birse's, and Iwent in to see her. She had a bervie and a boiled egg to her tea. Shelikes her eggs saft wi' a lick of butter in them. The Fat Wife is theone I like best. She's biding wi' Shilpit Kaytherine on the Tanage Brae. She weighs Jeems and Kaytherine and the sma' black swine. She had aningin to her tea. The Slave-driver's a fushinless body. One o' theVictims gives him his licks. They a' bide in the caravan. You can standon the wheel and keek in. They had herrings wi' the rans to their tea. Icut a hole in Jerusalem and Back, and there was no Jerusalem there. Theman as ocht Jerusalem greets because the Fair Circassian winna take him. He is biding a' night wi' Blinder. He likes a dram in his tea. "

Elspeth's money lasted till four o'clock. For Aaron, almost the only manin Thrums who shunned the revels that day, she bought a gingerbreadhouse; and the miraculous powder which must be taken on a sixpence wasto make Blinder see again, but unfortunately he forgot about putting iton the sixpence. And of course there was something for a certain boy. Grizel had completed her purchases by five o'clock, when Tommy was stillheavy with threepence halfpenny. They included a fluffy pink shawl, shedid not say for whom, but the Painted Lady wore it afterwards, and forherself another doll. 

"But that doll's leg is broken, " Tommy pointed out. 

"That was why I bought it, " she said warmly, "I feel so sorry for it, the darling, " and she carried it carefully so that the poor thing mightsuffer as little pain as possible. 

Twice they rushed home for hasty meals, and were back so quickly thatTommy's shadow strained a muscle in turning with him. Night came on, and from a hundred strings stretched along stands and shows there nowhung thousands of long tin things like trumpets. One burning paper couldset a dozen of these ablaze, and no sooner were they lit than a windthat had been biding its time rushed in like the merriman, making thelamps swing on their strings, so that the flaring lights embraced, andfrom a distance Thrums seemed to be on fire. 

Even Grizel was willing to hold Tommy's hand now, and the three couldonly move this way and that as the roaring crowd carried them. They werenot looking at the Muckley, they were part of it, and at last Thrums wasall Tommy's fancy had painted it. This intoxicated him, so that he hadto scream at intervals, "We're here, Elspeth, I tell you, we're here!"and he became pugnacious and asked youths twice his size whether theydenied that he was here, and if so, would they come on. In this frenzyhe was seen by Miss Ailie, who had stolen out in a veil to look forGavinia, but just as she was about to reprove him, dreadful men askedher was she in search of a lad, whereupon she fled home and barred thedoor, and later in the evening warned Gavinia, through the key-hole, taking her for a roystering blade, that there were policemen in thehouse, to which the astounding reply of Gavinia, then aged twelve, was, "No sic luck. "

With the darkness, too, crept into the Muckley certain devils in thecolor of the night who spoke thickly and rolled braw lads in the mire, and egged on friends to fight and cast lewd thoughts into the minds ofthe women. At first the men had been bashful swains. To the women's "Gieme my faring, Jock, " they had replied, "Wait, Jean, till I'm fee'd, " butby night most had got their arles, with a dram above it, and he whocould only guffaw at Jean a few hours ago had her round the waist now, and still an arm free for rough play with other kimmers. The Jeans wereas boisterous as the Jocks, giving them leer for leer, running from themwith a giggle, waiting to be caught and rudely kissed. Grand, patient, long-suffering fellows these men were, up at five, summer and winter, foddering their horses, maybe hours before there would be food forthemselves, miserably paid, housed like cattle, and when the rheumatismseized them, liable to be flung aside like a broken graip. As hard wasthe life of the women: coarse food, chaff beds, damp clothes, theirportion; their sweethearts in the service of masters who were reluctantto fee a married man. Is it to be wondered that these lads who could befaithful unto death drank soddenly on their one free day, that thesegirls, starved of opportunities for womanliness, of which they couldmake as much as the finest lady, sometimes woke after a Muckley to wishthat they might wake no more? Our three brushed shoulders with thedevils that had been let loose, but hardly saw them; they heard them, but did not understand their tongue. The eight-o'clock bell had runglong since, and though the racket was as great as ever, it was onlybecause every reveller left now made the noise of two. Mothers were outfishing for their bairns. The Haggerty-Taggertys had straggled homehoarse as crows; every one of them went to bed that night with astocking round his throat. Of Monypenny boys, Tommy could find none inthe square but Corp, who, with another tooth missing, had been goingabout since six o'clock with his pockets hanging out, as a sign that allwas over. An awkward silence had fallen on the trio; the reason, thatTommy had only threepence left and the smallest of them cost threepence. The reference of course is to the wondrous gold-paper packets of sweets(not unlike crackers in appearance) which are only seen at the Muckley, and are what every girl claims of her lad or lads. Now, Tommy had vowedto Elspeth--But he had also said to Grizel--In short, how could he buyfor both with threepence?

Grizel, as the stranger, ought to get--But he knew Elspeth too well tobelieve that she would dry her eyes with that. 

Elspeth being his sister--But he had promised Grizel, and she had beenso ill brought up that she said nasty things when you broke your word. 

The gold packet was bought. That is it sticking out of Tommy's insidepocket. The girls saw it and knew what was troubling him, but not aword was spoken now between the three. They set off for homeself-consciously, Tommy the least agitated on the whole, because he neednot make up his mind for another ten minutes. But he wished Grizel wouldnot look at him sideways and then rock her arms in irritation. Theypassed many merry-makers homeward bound, many of them following atortuous course, for the Scottish toper gives way first in the legs, theSouthron in the other extremity, and thus between them could beconstructed a man wholly sober and another as drunk as Chloe. But thoughthe highway clattered with many feet, not a soul was in the doubledykes, and at the easy end of that formidable path Grizel came to adetermined stop. 

"Good-night, " she said, with such a disdainful glance at Tommy. 

He had not made up his mind yet, but he saw that it must be done now, and to take a decisive step was always agony to him, though once takenit ceased to trouble. To dodge it for another moment he said, weakly:"Let's--let's sit down a whiley on the dyke. "

But Grizel, while coveting the packet, because she had never got apresent in her life, would not shilly-shally. 

"Are you to give it to Elspeth?" she asked, with the horrid directnessthat is so trying to an intellect like Tommy's. 

"N-no, " he said. 

"To Grizel?" cried Elspeth. 

"N-no, " he said again. 

It was an undignified moment for a great boy, but the providence thatwatched over Tommy until it tired of him came to his aid in the nick oftime. It took the form of the Painted Lady, who appeared suddenly out ofthe gloom of the Double Dykes. Two of the children jumped, and the thirdclenched her little fists to defend her mamma if Tommy cast a word ather. But he did not; his mouth remained foolishly open. The Painted Ladyhad been talking cheerfully to herself, but she drew backapprehensively, with a look of appeal on her face, and then--and thenTommy "saw a way. " He handed her the gold packet, "It's to you, " hesaid, "it's--it's your Muckley!"

For a moment she was afraid to take it, but when she knew that thissweet boy's gift was genuine, she fondled it and was greatly flattered, and dropped him the quaintest courtesy and then looked defiantly atGrizel. But Grizel did not take it from her. Instead, she flung her armsimpulsively round Tommy's neck, she was so glad, glad, glad. 

As Tommy and Elspeth walked away to their home, Elspeth could hear himbreathing heavily, and occasionally he gave her a furtive glance. 

"Grizel needna have done that, " she said, sharply. 

"No, " replied Tommy. 

"But it was noble of you, " she continued, squeezing his hand, "to giveit to the Painted Lady. Did you mean to give it to her a' the time?"

"Oh, Elspeth!"

"But did you?"

"Oh, Elspeth!"

"That's no you greeting, is it?" she asked, softly. 

"I'm near the greeting, " he said truthfully, "but I'm no sure whatabout. " His sympathy was so easily aroused that he sometimes criedwithout exactly knowing why. 

"It's because you're so good, " Elspeth told him; but presently she said, with a complete change of voice, "No, Grizel needna have done that. "

"It was a shameful thing to do, " Tommy agreed, shaking his head. "Butshe did it!" he added triumphantly; "you saw her do it, Elspeth!"

"But you didna like it?" Elspeth asked, in terror. 

"No, of course I didna like it, but--"

"But what, Tommy?"

"But I liked her to like it, " he admitted, and by and by he began tolaugh hysterically. "I'm no sure what I'm laughing at, " he said, "but Ithink it's at mysel'. " He may have laughed at himself before, but thisMuckley is memorable as the occasion on which he first caught himselfdoing it. The joke grew with the years, until sometimes he laughed inhis most emotional moments, suddenly seeing himself in his true light. But it had become a bitter laugh by that time. 

CHAPTER XIX

CORP IS BROUGHT TO HEEL--GRIZEL DEFIANT

Corp Shiach was a bare-footed colt of a boy, of ungainly build, with anose so thick and turned up that it was a certificate of character, andhis hands were covered with warts, which he had a trick of biting tillthey bled. Then he rubbed them on his trousers, which were thepicturesque part of him, for he was at present "serving" to the masons(he had "earned his keep" since long before he could remember), and sowore the white or yellow ducks which the dust of the quarry stains ararer orange color than is known elsewhere. The orange of the masons'trousers, the blue of the hearthstones, these are the most beautifulcolors to be seen in Thrums, though of course Corp was unaware of it. Hewas really very good-natured, and only used his fists freely because ofimagination he had none, and thinking made him sweat, and consequentlythe simplest way of proving his case was to say, "I'll fight you. " Whatmight have been the issue of a conflict between him and Shovel was aproblem for Tommy to puzzle over. Shovel was as quick as Corp wasdeliberate, and would have danced round him, putting in unexpectedones, but if he had remained just one moment too long within Corp'sreach--

They nicknamed him Corp because he took fits, when he lay like one dead. He was proud of his fits, was Corp, but they were a bother to him, too, because he could make so little of them. They interested doctors andother carriage folk, who came to his aunt's house to put their fingersinto him, and gave him sixpence, and would have given him more, but whenthey pressed him to tell them what he remembered about his fits, hecould only answer dejectedly, "Not a damned thing. "

"You might as well no have them ava, " his wrathful aunt, with whom helived, would say, and she thrashed him until his size forbade it. 

Soon after the Muckley came word that the Lady of the Spittal was to bebrought to see Corp by Mr. Ogilvy, the school-master of Glen Quharity, and at first Corp boasted of it, but as the appointed day drew near hebecame uneasy. 

"The worst o't, " he said to anyone who would listen, "is that my auntieis to be away frae hame, and so they'll put a' their questions to me. "

The Haggerty-Taggertys and Birkie were so jealous that they said theywere glad _they_ never had fits, but Tommy made no such pretence. 

"Oh, Corp, if I had thae fits of yours!" he exclaimed greedily. 

"If they were mine to give awa', " replied Corp sullenly, "you couldhave them and welcome. " Grown meek in his trouble, he invited Tommy tospeak freely, with the result that his eyes were partially opened to thesuperiority of that boy's attainments. Tommy told him a number ofinteresting things to say to Mr. Ogilvy and the lady about his fits, about how queer he felt just before they came on, and the visions he hadwhile he was lying stiff. But though the admiring Corp gave attentiveear, he said hopelessly next day, "Not a dagont thing do I mind. Whenthey question me about my fits I'll just say I'm sometimes in them andsometimes out o' them, and if they badger me more, I can aye kick. "

Tommy gave him a look that meant, "Fits are just wasted on you, " andCorp replied with another that meant, "I ken they are. " Then theyparted, one of them to reflect. 

"Corp, " he said excitedly, when next they met, "has Mr. Ogilvy or thelady ever come to see you afore?"

They had not, and Corp was able to swear that they did not even know himby sight. 

"They dinna ken me either, " said Tommy. 

"What does that matter?" asked Corp, but Tommy was too full to speak. Hehad "found a way. "

The lady and Mr. Ogilvy found Corp such a success that the one gave hima shilling and the other took down his reminiscences in a note-book. Butif you would hear of the rings of blue and white and yellow Corp saw, and of the other extraordinary experiences he described himself ashaving when in a fit, you need not search that note-book, for the pagehas been torn out. Instead of making inquiries of Mr. Ogilvy, try anyother dominie in the district, Mr. Cathro, for instance, who delightedto tell the tale. This of course was when it leaked out that Tommy hadpersonated Corp, by arrangement with the real Corp, who was listening inrapture beneath the bed. 

Tommy, who played his part so well that he came out of it in a daze, hadCorp at heel from that hour. He told him what a rogue he had been inLondon, and Corp cried admiringly, "Oh, you deevil! oh, you queer littledeevil!" and sometimes it was Elspeth who was narrator, and then Tommy'snoble acts were the subject; but still Corp's comment was "Oh, thedeevil! oh, the queer little deevil!" Elspeth was flattered by hishero-worship, but his language shocked her, and after consulting MissAilie she advised him to count twenty when he felt an oath coming, atthe end of which exercise the desire to swear would have passed away. Good-natured Corp willingly promised to try this, but he was neverhopeful, and as he explained to Tommy, after a failure, "It just made mewaur than ever, for when I had counted the twenty I said a big Damn, thoughtful-like, and syne out jumpit three little damns, like as if thefirst ane had cleckit in my mouth. "

It was fortunate that Elspeth liked Corp on the whole, for during thethree years now to be rapidly passed over, Tommy took delight in hissociety, though he never treated him as an equal; Corp indeed did notexpect that, and was humbly grateful for what he got. In summer, fishingwas their great diversion. They would set off as early as four in themorning, fishing wands in hand, and scour the world for trout, ploddinghome in the gloaming with stones in their fishing-basket to deceivethose who felt its weight. In the long winter nights they liked best tolisten to Blinder's tales of the Thrums Jacobites, tales never put intowriting, but handed down from father to son, and proved true in theoddest of ways, as by Blinder's trick of involuntarily holding out hishands to a fire when he found himself near one, though he might besweating to the shirt and the time a July forenoon. "I make no doubt, "he told them, "as I do that because my forbear, Buchan Osler (calledBuchan wi' the Haap after the wars was ower), had to hod so lang fraethe troopers, and them so greedy for him that he daredna crawl to a fireonce in an eight days. "

The Lord of the Spittal and handsome Captain Body (whose being "out"made all the women anxious) marched through the Den, flapping theirwings at the head of a fearsome retinue, and the Thrums folk looked soglum at them that gay Captain Body said he should kiss every lass whodid not cheer for Charlie, and none cheered, but at the same time noneran away. Few in Thrums cared a doit for Charlie, but some hung onbehind this troop till there was no turning back for them, and one ofthese was Buchan. He forced his wife to give Captain Body a white rosefrom her bush by the door, but a thorn in it pricked the gallant, andthe blood from his fingers fell on the bush, and from that year it grewred roses. 

"If you dinna believe me, " Blinder said, "look if the roses is no red onthe bush at Pyotdykes, which was a split frae Buchan's, and speirwhether they're no named the blood rose. "

"I believe you, " Tommy would say breathlessly: "go on. "

Captain Body was back in the Den by and by, but he had no thought ofpreeing lasses' mouths now. His face was scratched and haggard and hisgay coat torn, and when he crawled to the Cuttle Well he caught some ofthe water in his bonnet and mixed meal with it, stirring the preciouscompound with his finger and using the loof of his hand as a spoon. Every stick of furniture Buchan and the other Thrums rebels possessedwas seized by the government and rouped in the market-place of Thrums, but few would bid against the late owners, for whom the things weresecretly bought back very cheaply. 

To these and many similar stories Tommy listened open-mouthed, seeingthe scene far more vividly than the narrator, who became alarmed at hisquick, loud breathing, and advised him to forget them and go back tohis lessons. But his lessons never interested Tommy, and he would gointo the Den instead, and repeat Blinder's legends, with embellishmentswhich made them so real that Corp and Elspeth and Grizel were afraid tolook behind them lest the spectre of Captain Body should be standingthere, leaning on a ghostly sword. 

At such times Elspeth kept a firm grip of Tommy's hand, but one eveningas they all ran panic-stricken from some imaginary alarm, she lost himnear the Cuttle Well, and then, as it seemed to her, the Den becamesuddenly very dark and lonely. At first she thought she had it toherself, but as she stole timidly along the pink path she heard voices, and she cried "Tommy!" joyously. But no answer came, so it could not beTommy. Then she thought it must be a pair of lovers, but next moment shestood transfixed with fear, for it was the Painted Lady, who was comingalong the path talking aloud to herself. No, not to herself--to someoneshe evidently thought was by her side; she called him darling and othersweet names, and waited for his replies and nodded pleased assent tothem, or pouted at them, and terrified Elspeth knew that she was talkingto the man who never came. 

When she saw Elspeth she stopped irresolutely, and the two stood lookingin fear at each other. "You are not my brat, are you?" the Painted Ladyasked. 

"N-no, " the child gasped. 

"Then why don't you call me nasty names?"

"I dinna never call you names, " Elspeth replied, but the woman stilllooked puzzled. 

"Perhaps you are naughty also?" she said doubtfully, and then, as ifmaking up her mind that it must be so, she came closer and said, with avoice full of pity: "I am so sorry. "

Elspeth did not understand half of it, but the pitying voice, which wasof the rarest sweetness, drove away much of her fear, and she said: "Doyou no mind me? I was wi' Tommy when he gave you the gold packet onMuckley night. "

Then the Painted Lady remembered. "He took such a fancy to me, " shesaid, with a pleased simper, and then she looked serious again. 

"Do you love him?" she asked, and Elspeth nodded. 

"But is he all the world to you?"

"Yes, " Elspeth said. 

The Painted Lady took her by the arm and said impressively, "Don't lethim know. "

"But he does know, " said Elspeth. 

"I am so sorry, " the Painted Lady said again. "When they know too well, then they have no pity. "

"But I want Tommy to know, " Elspeth insisted. 

"That is the woeful thing, " the Painted Lady said, rocking her arms in away that reminded the child of Grizel. "We want them to know, we cannothelp liking them to know!"

Suddenly she became confidential. "Do you think I showed my love tooopenly?" she asked eagerly. "I tried to hide it, you know. I covered myface with my hands, but he pulled them away, and then, of course, heknew. "

She went on, "I kissed his horse's nose, and he said I did that becauseit was his horse. How could he know? When I asked him how he knew, hekissed me, and I pretended to be angry and ran away. But I was notangry, and I said to myself, 'I am glad, I am glad, I am glad!'

"I wanted so to be good, but--It is so difficult to refuse when youlove him very much, don't you think?"

The pathos of that was lost on the girl, and the Painted Lady continuedsadly: "It would be so nice, would it not, if they liked us to be good?I think it would be sweet. " She bent forward and whispered emphatically, "But they don't, you know--it bores them. 

"Never bore them--and they are so easily bored! It bores them if you sayyou want to be married. I think it would be sweet to be married, but youshould never ask for a wedding. They give you everything else, but ifyou say you want a wedding, they stamp their feet and go away. Why areyou crying, girl? You should not cry; they don't like it. Put on yourprettiest gown and laugh and pretend you are happy, and then they willtell you naughty stories and give you these. " She felt her ears andlooked at her fingers, on which there may once have been jewels, butthere were none now. 

"If you cry you lose your complexion, and then they don't love you anymore. I had always such a beautiful skin. Some ladies when they losetheir complexion paint. Horrid, isn't it? I wonder they can do such athing. "

She eyed Elspeth suspiciously. "But of course you might do it just alittle, " she said, pleadingly--"just to make them go on loving you, don't you think?

"When they don't want to come any more they write you a letter, and yourun with it to your room and kiss it, because you don't know what isinside. Then you open it, and that breaks your heart, you know. " Shenodded her head sagaciously and smiled with tears in her eyes. "Never, never, never open the letter. Keep it unopened on your breast, and thenyou can always think that he may come to-morrow. And if--"

Someone was approaching, and she stopped and listened. "My brat!" shecried, furiously, "she is always following me, " and she poured forth atorrent of filthy abuse of Grizel, in the midst of which Tommy (for itwas he) appeared and carried Elspeth off hastily. This was the onlyconversation either child ever had with the Painted Lady, and it borebad fruit for Grizel. Elspeth told some of the Monypenny women about it, and they thought it their duty to point out to Aaron that the PaintedLady and her child were not desirable acquaintances for Tommy andElspeth. 

"I dinna ken, " he answered sharply, "whether Tommy's a fit acquaintancefor Grizel, but I'm very sure o' this, that she's more than a fitacquaintance for him. And look at what she has done for this house. Ikenna what we should do if she didna come in nows and nans. "

"You ken well, Aaron, " they said, "that onything we could do in the wayo' keeping your house in order we should do gladly. "

"Thank you, " he replied ungraciously, "but I would rather have her. "

Nevertheless he agreed that he ought to forbid any intercourse with thePainted Lady, and unfortunately Grizel heard of this. Probably therenever would have been any such intercourse; Grizel guarded against itmore than anyone, for reasons she never spoke of, but she resented thisveto proudly. 

"Why must you not speak to my mamma?" she demanded of Tommy and Elspeth. 

"Because--because she is a queer one, " he said. 

"She is not a queer one--she is just sweet. "

He tried to evade the question by saying weakly, "We never see her tospeak to at any rate, so it will make no difference. It's no as if youever asked us to come to Double Dykes. "

"But I ask you now, " said Grizel, with flashing eyes. 

"Oh, I darena!" cried Elspeth. 

"Then I won't ever come into your house again, " said Grizel, decisively. 

"No to redd up?" asked Tommy, incredulously. "No to bake nor to iron?You couldna help it. "

"Yes I could. "

"Think what you'll miss!"

Grizel might have retorted, "Think what you will miss!" but perhaps thereply she did make had a sharper sting in it. "I shall never comeagain, " she said loftily, "and my reason for not coming is that--that mymamma thinks your house is not respectable!" She flung this over hershoulder as she stalked away, and it may be that the tears came whenthere were none to see them, but hers was a resolute mind, and thoughshe continued to be friendly with Tommy and Elspeth out of doors shenever again crossed their threshold. 

"The house is in a terrible state for want o' you, " Tommy would say, trying to wheedle her. "We hinna sanded the floor for months, and thebox-iron has fallen ahint the dresser, and my gray sark is rove up theback, and oh, you should just see the holes in Aaron's stockings!"

Then Grizel rocked her arms in agony, but no, she would not go in. 

CHAPTER XX

THE SHADOW OF SIR WALTER

Tommy was in Miss Ailie's senior class now, though by no means at thetop of it, and her mind was often disturbed about his future. On thissubject Aaron had never spoken to anyone, and the problem gave Tommyhimself so little trouble that all Elspeth knew was that he was to begreat and that she was to keep his house. So the school-mistress bravedan interview with Aaron for the sake of her favorite. 

"You know he is a remarkable boy, " she said. 

"At his lessons, ma'am?" asked Aaron, quietly. 

Not exactly at his lessons, she had to admit. 

"In what way, then, ma'am?"

Really Miss Ailie could not say. There was something wonderful aboutTommy, you felt it, but you could not quite give it a name. The warpermust have noticed it himself. 

"I've heard him saying something o' the kind to Elspeth, " was Aaron'sreply. 

"But sometimes he is like a boy inspired, " said the school-mistress. "You must have seen that?"

"When he was thinking o' himsel', " answered Aaron. 

"He has such noble sentiments. "

"He has. "

"And I think, I really think, " said Miss Ailie, eagerly, for this waswhat she had come to say, "that he has got great gifts for theministry. "

"I'm near sure o't, " said Aaron, grimly. 

"Ah, I see you don't like him. "

"I dinna, " the warper acknowledged quietly, "but I've been trying to domy duty by him for all that. It's no every laddie that gets three years'schooling straight on end. "

This was true, but Miss Ailie used it to press her point. "You have doneso well by him, " she said, "that I think you should keep him at schoolfor another year or two, and so give him a chance of carrying a bursary. If he carries one it will support him at college; if he does not--well, then I suppose he must be apprenticed to some trade. "

"No, " Aaron said, decisively; "if he gets the chance of a collegeeducation and flings it awa', I'll waste no more siller on his keep. I'll send him straight to the herding. "

"And I shall not blame you, " Miss Ailie declared eagerly. 

"Though I would a hantle rather, " continued the warper, "waur my moneyon Elspeth. "

"What you spend on him, " Miss Ailie argued, "you will really be spendingon her, for if he rises in the world he will not leave Elspeth behind. You are prejudiced against him, but you cannot deny that. "

"I dinna deny but what he's fond o' her, " said Aaron, and afterconsidering the matter for some days he decided that Tommy should gethis chance. The school-mistress had not acted selfishly, for thisdecision, as she knew, meant that the boy must now be placed in thehands of Mr. Cathro, who was a Greek and Latin scholar. She taught Latinherself, it is true, but as cautiously as she crossed a plank bridge, and she was never comfortable in the dominie's company, because even ata tea-table he would refer familiarly to the ablative absolute insteadof letting sleeping dogs lie. 

"But Elspeth couldna be happy if we were at different schools, " Tommyobjected instantly. 

"Yes, I could, " said Elspeth, who had been won over by Miss Ailie; "itwill be so fine, Tommy, to see you again after I hinna seen you forthree hours. "

Tommy was little known to Mr. Cathro at this time, except as the boy whohad got the better of a rival teacher in the affair of Corp, which haddelighted him greatly. "But if the sacket thinks he can play any of histricks on me, " he told Aaron, "there is an awakening before him, " and hebegan the cramming of Tommy for a bursary with perfect confidence. 

But before the end of the month, at the mere mention of Tommy's name, Mr. Cathro turned red in the face, and the fingers of his laying-on handwould clutch an imaginary pair of tawse. Already Tommy had made himself-conscious. He peered covertly at Tommy, and Tommy caught him at itevery time, and then each quickly looked another way, and Cathro vowednever to look again, but did it next minute, and what enraged him mostwas that he knew Tommy noted his attempts at self-restraint as well ashis covert glances. All the other pupils knew that a change for theworse had come over the dominie's temper. They saw him punish Tommyfrequently without perceptible cause, and that he was still unsatisfiedwhen the punishment was over. This apparently was because Tommy gave hima look before returning to his seat. When they had been walloped theygave Cathro a look also, but it merely meant, "Oh, that this was a darkroad and I had a divot in my hand!" while his look was unreadable, thatis unreadable to them, for the dominie understood it and writhed. Whatit said was, "You think me a wonder, and therefore I forgive you. "

"And sometimes he fair beats Cathro!" So Tommy's schoolmates reported athome, and the dominie had to acknowledge its truth to Aaron. "I wish youwould give that sacket a thrashing for me, " he said, half furiously, yetwith a grin on his face, one day when he and the warper chanced to meeton the Monypenny road. 

"I'll no lay a hand on bairn o' Jean Myles, " Aaron replied. "Ay, and Iunderstood you to say that he should meet his match in you. "

"Did I ever say that, man? Well, well, we live and learn. "

"What has he been doing now?"

"What has he been doing!" echoed Cathro. "He has been making me lookfoolish in my own class-room. Yes, sir, he has so completely got thebetter of me (and not for the first time) that when I tell the story ofhow he diddled Mr. Ogilvy, Mr. Ogilvy will be able to cap it with thestory of how the little whelp diddled me. Upon my soul, Aaron, he isrunning away with all my self-respect and destroying my sense of humor. "

What had so crushed the dominie was the affair of Francie Crabb. Franciewas now a pupil, like Gavin Dishart and Tommy, of Mr. Cathro's, whodetested the boy's golden curls, perhaps because he was bald himself. They were also an incentive to evil-doing on the part of other boys, whomust give them a tug in passing, and on a day the dominie said, in afury, "Give your mother my compliments, Francie, and tell her I'm sotired of seeing your curls that I mean to cut them off to-morrowmorning. "

"Say he shall not, " whispered Tommy. 

"You shanna!" blurted out Francie. 

"But I will, " said Cathro; "I would do it now if I had the shears. "

It was only an empty threat, but an hour afterwards the dominie caughtTommy wagering in witchy marbles and other coin that he would not do it, and then instead of taking the tawse to him he said, "Keep him to hisbargains, laddies, for whatever may have been my intention at the time, I mean to be as good as my word now. "

He looked triumphantly at Tommy, who, however, instead of seemingcrestfallen, continued to bet, and now the other boys were eager toclose with him, for great was their faith in Cathro. These transactionswere carried out on the sly, but the dominie knew what was going on, anddespite his faith in himself he had his twitches of uneasiness. 

"However, the boy can only be trusting to fear of Mrs. Crabb restrainingme, " he decided, and he marched into the school-room next morning, ostentatiously displaying his wife's largest scissors. His pupilscrowded in after him, and though he noticed that all were strangelyquiet and many wearing scared faces, he put it down to the coming scene. He could not resist giving one triumphant glance at Tommy, who, however, instead of returning it, looked modestly down. Then--"Is Francie Crabbhere?" asked Mr. Cathro, firmly. 

"He's hodding ahint the press, " cried a dozen voices. 

"Come forward, Francie, " said the dominie, clicking the shears toencourage him. 

There was a long pause, and then Francie emerged in fear from behind thepress. Yes, it was Francie, but his curls were gone!

The shears fell to the floor. "Who did this?" roared the terribleCathro. 

"It was Tommy Sandys, " blurted out Francis, in tears. 

The school-master was unable to speak, and, alarmed at the stillness, Francie whined, "He said it would be done at ony rate, and he promisedme half his winnings. "

It is still remembered by bearded men and married women who were atschool that day how Cathro leaped three forms to get at Tommy, and howTommy cried under the tawse and yet laughed ecstatically at the sametime, and how subsequently he and Francie collected so many dues thatthe pockets of them stood out like brackets from their little persons. 

The dominie could not help grinning a little at his own discomfiture ashe told this story, but Aaron saw nothing amusing in it. "As I telledyou, " he repeated, "I winna touch him, so if you're no content wi' whatyou've done yoursel', you had better put Francie's mither on him. "

"I hear she has taken him in hand already, " Mr. Cathro replied dryly. "But, Aaron, I wish you would at least keep him closer to his lessons atnight, for it is seldom he comes to the school well prepared. "

"I see him sitting lang ower his books, " said Aaron. 

"Ay, maybe, but is he at them?" responded the dominie with a shake ofthe head that made Aaron say, with his first show of interest in theconversation, "You have little faith in his carrying a bursary, I see. "

But this Mr. Cathro would not admit, for if he thought Tommy a numskullthe one day he often saw cause to change his mind the next, so heanswered guardedly, "It's too soon to say, Aaron, for he has eighteenmonths' stuffing to undergo yet before we send him to Aberdeen to tryhis fortune, and I have filled some gey toom wimes in eighteen months. But you must lend me a hand. "

The weaver considered, and then replied stubbornly, "No, I give him hischance, but I'll have nocht to do wi' his use o't. And, dominie, I wantyou to say not another word to me about him atween this and examinationtime, for my mind's made up no to say a word to him. It's well kent thatI'm no more fit to bring up bairns than to have them (dinna conter me, man, for the thing was proved lang syne at the Cuttle Well), and so tillthat time I'll let him gang his ain gait. But if he doesna carry abursary, to the herding he goes. I've said it and I'll stick to it. "

So, as far as Aaron was concerned, Tommy was left in peace to the gloryof collecting his winnings from those who had sworn by Cathro, and amongthem was Master Gavin Ogilvy Dishart, who now found himself surroundedby a debt of sixpence, a degrading position for the son of an Auld Lichtminister. 

Tommy would not give him time, but was willing to take his copy of"Waverley" as full payment. 

Gavin offered him "Ivanhoe" instead, because his mother had given aread of "Waverley" to Gavinia, Miss Ailie's servant, and she read soslowly, putting her finger beneath each word, that she had not yetreached the middle. Also, she was so enamoured of the work that shewould fight anyone who tried to take it from her. 

Tommy refused "Ivanhoe, " as it was not about Jacobites, but suggestedthat Gavinia should be offered it in lieu of "Waverley, " and told thatit was a better story. 

The suggestion came too late, as Gavinia had already had a loan of"Ivanhoe, " and read it with rapture, inch by inch. However, if Tommywould wait a month, or--

Tommy was so eager to read more about the Jacobites that he found ittrying to wait five minutes. He thought Gavin's duty was to get hisfather to compel Gavinia to give the book up. 

Was Tommy daft? Mr. Dishart did not know that his son possessed thesebooks. He did not approve of story books, and when Mrs. Dishart gavethem to Gavin on his birthday she--she had told him to keep them out ofhis father's sight. (Mr. And Mrs. Dishart were very fond of each other, but there were certain little matters that she thought it unnecessary totrouble him about. )

So if Tommy was to get "Waverley" at once, he must discover another way. He reflected, and then set off to Miss Ailie's (to whom he still readsober works of an evening, but novels never), looking as if he hadfound a way. 

For some time Miss Ailie had been anxious about her red-armed maid, whohad never before given pain unless by excess of willingness, as when sheoffered her garter to tie Miss Ailie's parcels with. Of late, however, Gavinia had taken to blurting out disquieting questions, to thesignificance of which she withheld the key, such as--

"Is there ony place nowadays, ma'am, where there's tourniements? Andcould an able-bodied lassie walk to them? and what might be the chargeto win in?"

Or, "Would you no like to be so michty beautiful, ma'am, that as soon asthe men saw your bonny face they just up wi' you in their arms and ran?"

Or again, "What's the heaviest weight o' a woman a grand lusty man couldcarry in his arms as if she were an infant?"

This method of conveyance seemed to have a peculiar fascination forGavinia, and she got herself weighed at the flesher's. On anotheroccasion she broke a glass candlestick, and all she said to the pieceswas, "Wha carries me, wears me. "

This mystery was troubling the school-mistress sadly when Tommy arrivedwith the key to it. "I'm doubting Gavinia's reading ill books on thesly, " he said. 

"Never!" exclaimed Miss Ailie, "she reads nothing but the _Mentor_. "

Tommy shook his head, like one who would fain hope so, but could notoverlook facts. "I've been hearing, " he said, "that she reads books asare full o' Strokes and Words We have no Concern with. "

Miss Ailie could not believe it, but she was advised to search thekitchen, and under Gavinia's mattress was found the dreadful work. 

"And you are only fifteen!" said Miss Ailie, eying her little maidsorrowfully. 

"The easier to carry, " replied Gavinia, darkly. 

"And you named after a minister!" Miss Ailie continued, for her maid hadbeen christened Gavinia because she was the first child baptized in hischurch after the Rev. Gavin Dishart came to Thrums. "Gavinia, I musttell him of this. I shall take this book to Mr. Dishart this very day. "

"The right man to take it to, " replied the maid, sullenly, "for it's hisain. "

"Gavinia!"

"Well, it was Mrs. Dishart that lended it to me. "

"I--I never saw it on the manse shelves. "

"I'm thinking, " said the brazen Gavinia, "as there's hoddy corners inmanses as well as in--blue-and-white rooms. "

This dark suggestion was as great a shock to the gentle school-mistressas if out of a clear sky had come suddenly the word--

_Stroke!_

She tottered with the book that had so demoralized the once meekGavinia into the blue-and-white room, where Tommy was restlesslyawaiting her, and when she had told him all, he said, with downcasteyes:

"I was never sure o' Mrs. Dishart. When I hand her the _Mentor_ shelooks as if she didna care a stroke for't--"

"Tommy!"

"I'm doubting, " he said sadly, "that she's ower fond o' Words We have noConcern with. "

Miss Ailie would not listen to such talk, but she approved of thesuggestion that "Waverley" should be returned not to the minister, butto his wife, and she accepted gratefully Tommy's kindly offer to act asbearer. Only happening to open the book in the middle, she--

"I'm waiting, " said Tommy, after ten minutes. 

She did not hear him. 

"I'm waiting, " he said again, but she was now in the next chapter. 

"Maybe you would like to read it yoursel'!" he cried, and then she cameto, and, with a shudder handed him the book. But after he had gone shereturned to the kitchen to reprove Gavinia at greater length, and in themidst of the reproof she said faintly: "You did not happen to look atthe end, did you?"

"That I did, " replied Gavinia. 

"And did she--did he--"

"No, " said Gavinia, sorrowfully. 

Miss Ailie sighed. "That's what I think too, " said Gavinia. 

"Why didn't they?" asked the school-mistress. 

"Because he was just a sumph, " answered Gavinia, scornfully. "If he hadbeen like Fergus, or like the chield in 'Ivanhoe, ' he wouldna have ta'ena 'no. ' He would just have whipped her up in his arms and away wi' her. That's the kind for me, ma'am. "

"There is a fascination about them, " murmured Miss Ailie. 

"A what?"

But again Miss Ailie came to. "For shame, Gavinia, for shame!" she said, severely; "these are disgraceful sentiments. "

In the meantime Tommy had hurried with the book, not to the manse, butto a certain garret, and as he read, his imagination went on fire. Blinder's stories had made him half a Jacobite, and now "Waverley"revealed to him that he was born neither for the ministry nor theherding, but to restore to his country its rightful king. The first towhom he confided this was Corp, who immediately exclaimed: "Michty me!But what will the police say?"

"I ken a wy, " answered Tommy, sternly. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE LAST JACOBITE RISING

On the evening of the Queen's birthday, bridies were eaten to her honorin a hundred Thrums homes, and her health was drunk in toddy, Scotchtoddy and Highland toddy. Patullo, the writer, gave a men's party, andhis sole instructions to his maid were "Keep running back and forrit wi'the hot water. " At the bank there was a ladies' party and ginger wine. From Cathro's bedroom-window a flag was displayed with _Vivat Regina_ onit, the sentiment composed by Cathro, the words sewn by the girls of hisMcCulloch class. The eight-o'clock bell rang for an hour, and a loyalcrowd had gathered in the square to shout. To a superficial observer, such as the Baron Bailie or Todd, the new policeman, all seemed well andfair. 

But a very different scene was being enacted at the same time in thefastnesses of the Den, where three resolute schemers had met byappointment. Their trysting-place was the Cuttle Well, which is mosteasily reached by the pink path made for that purpose; but the better tofurther their dark and sinister design, the plotters arrived by threecircuitous routes, one descending the Reekie Broth Pot, a low butdangerous waterfall, the second daring the perils of the crags, and thethird walking stealthily up the burn. 

"Is that you, Tommy?"

"Whist! Do you mind the password?"

"Stroke!"

"Right. Have you heard Gav Dishart coming?"

"I hinna. I doubt his father had grippit him as he was slinking out o'the manse. "

"I fear it, Corp. I'm thinking his father is in the Woman's pay. "

"What woman?"

"The Woman of Hanover?"

"That's the queen, is it no?"

"She'll never get me to call her queen. "

"Nor yet me. I think I hear Gav coming. "

Gav Dishart was the one who had come by the burn, and his boots werecheeping like a field of mice. He gave the word "Stroke, " and the threethen looked at each other firmly. The lights of the town were notvisible from the Cuttle Well, owing to an arm of cliff that isoutstretched between, but the bell could be distinctly heard, andoccasionally a shout of revelry. 

"They little ken!" said Tommy, darkly. 

"They hinna a notion, " said Corp, but he was looking somewhat perplexedhimself. 

"It's near time I was back for family exercise, " said Gav, uneasily, "so we had better do it quick, Tommy. "

"Did you bring the wineglasses?" Tommy asked him. 

"No, " Gav said, "the press was lockit, but I've brought egg-cups. "

"Stand round then. "

The three boys now presented a picturesque appearance, but there wasnone save the man in the moon to see them. They stood round the CuttleWell, each holding an egg-cup, and though the daring nature of theirundertaking and the romantic surroundings combined to excite them, itwas not fear but soaring purpose that paled their faces and caused theirhands to tremble, when Tommy said solemnly, "Afore we do what we've comehere to do, let's swear. "

"Stroke!" he said. 

"Stroke!" said Gav. 

"Stroke!" said Corp. 

They then filled their cups and holding them over the well, so that theyclinked, they said:

"To the king ower the water!"

"To the king ower the water!"

"To the king ower the water!"

When they had drunk Tommy broke his cup against a rock, for he wasdetermined that it should never be used to honor a meaner toast, and theothers followed his example, Corp briskly, though the act puzzled him, and Gav with a gloomy look because he knew that the cups would bemissed to-morrow. 

"Is that a' now?" whispered Corp, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. 

"All!" cried Tommy. "Man, we've just begood. "

As secretly as they had entered it, they left the Den, and anon threefigures were standing in a dark trance, cynically watching the revellersin the square. 

"If they just kent!" muttered the smallest, who was wearing his jacketoutside in to escape observation. 

"But they little ken!" said Gav Dishart. 

"They hinna a notion!" said Corp, contemptuously, but still he was alittle puzzled, and presently he asked softly: "Lads, what just is itthat they dinna ken?"

Had Gav been ready with an answer he could not have uttered it, for justthen a terrible little man in black, who had been searching for him inlikely places, seized him by the cuff of the neck, and, turning his facein an easterly direction, ran him to family worship. But there was stillwork to do for the other two. Walking home alone that night from Mr. Patullo's party, Mr. Cathro had an uncomfortable feeling that he wasbeing dogged. When he stopped to listen, all was at once still, but themoment he moved onward he again heard stealthy steps behind. He retiredto rest as soon as he reached his house, to be wakened presently by aslight noise at the window, whence the flag-post protruded. It had beenbut a gust of wind, he decided, and turned round to go to sleep again, when crash! the post was plucked from its place and cast to the ground. The dominie sprang out of bed, and while feeling for a light, thought heheard scurrying feet, but when he looked out at the window no one was tobe seen; _Vivat Regina_ lay ignobly in the gutters. That it could havebeen the object of an intended theft was not probable, but the openwindow might have tempted thieves, and there was a possible though riskyway up by the spout. The affair was a good deal talked about at thetime, but it remained shrouded in a mystery which even we have beenunable to penetrate. 

On the heels of the Queen's birthday came the Muckley, the one that wasto be known to fame, if fame was willing to listen to Corp, as Tommy'sMuckley. Unless he had some grand aim in view never was a boy whoyielded to temptations more blithely than Tommy, but when he had suchaim never was a boy so firm in withstanding them. At this Muckley he hada mighty reason for not spending money, and with ninepence in his pocketclamoring to be out he spent not one halfpenny. There was somethinguncanny in the sight of him stalking unscathed between rows of standsand shows, everyone of them aiming at his pockets. Corp and Gav, ofcourse, were in the secret and did their humble best to act in the sameunnatural manner, but now and again a show made a successful snap atGav, and Corp had gloomy fears that he would lose his head in presenceof the Teuch and Tasty, from which humiliation indeed he was only savedby the happy idea of requesting Tommy to shout "Deuteronomy!" in awarning voice, every time they drew nigh Californy's seductive stand. 

Was there nothing for sale, then, that the three thirsted to buy? Therewere many things, among them weapons of war, a pack of cards, moreproperly called Devil's books, blue bonnets suitable for Highlandgentlemen, feathers for the bonnets, a tin lantern, yards of tartancloth, which the deft fingers of Grizel would convert into warriors'sashes. Corp knew that these purchases were in Tommy's far-seeing eye, but he thought the only way to get them was to ask the price and thenoffer half. Gav, the scholar, who had already reached daylight throughthe first three books of Euclid, and took a walk every Saturday morningwith his father and Herodotus, even Gav, the scholar, was asthick-witted as Corp. 

"We'll let other laddies buy them, " Tommy explained in his superior way, "and then after the Muckley is past, we'll buy them frae them. "

The others understood now. After a Muckley there was always a greatdearth of pence, and a moneyed man could become owner of Muckleypurchases at a sixth part of the Muckley price. 

"You crittur!" exclaimed Corp, in abject admiration. 

But Gav saw an objection. "The feck of them, " he pointed out, "willwaur their siller on shows and things to eat, instead of on what we wantthem to buy. "

"So they will, the nasty sackets!" cried Corp. 

"You couldna blame a laddie for buying Teuch and Tasty, " continued Gavwith triumph, for he was a little jealous of Tommy. 

"You couldna, " agreed Corp, "no, I'll be dagont, if you could, " and hishand pressed his money feverishly. 

"Deuteronomy!" roared Tommy, and Corp's hand jumped as if it had beencaught in some other person's, pocket. 

"But how are we to do?" he asked. "If you like, I'll take Birkie and theHaggerty-Taggertys round the Muckley and fight ilka ane that doesnabuy--"

"Corp, " said Tommy, calmly, "I wonder at you. Do you no ken yet that thebest plan is to leave a thing to me?"

"Blethering gowks that we are, of course it is!" cried Corp, and heturned almost fiercely upon Gav. "Lippen all to him, " he said with grandconfidence, "he'll find a wy. "

And Tommy found a way. Birkie was the boy who bought the pack of cards. He saw Tommy looking so-woe-begone that it was necessary to ask thereason. 

"Oh, Birkie, lend me threepence, " sobbed Tommy, "and I'll give yousixpence the morn. "

"You're daft, " said Birkie, "there's no a laddie in Thrums that willhave one single lonely bawbee the morn. "

"Him that buys the cards, " moaned Tommy, "will never be without siller, for you tell auld folks fortunes on them at a penny every throw. Lend methreepence, Birkie. They cost a sic, and I have just--"

"Na, na, " said greedy Birkie, "I'm no to be catched wi' chaff. If it'strue, what you say, I'll buy the cards mysel'. "

Having thus got hold of him, Tommy led Birkie to a stand where the Kingof Egypt was telling fortunes with cards, and doing a roaring tradeamong the Jocks and Jennys. He also sold packs at sixpence each, and theelated Birkie was an immediate purchaser. 

"You're no so clever as you think yoursel'!" he said triumphantly toTommy, who replied with his inscrutable smile. But to his satellites hesaid, "Not a soul will buy a fortune frae Birkie. I'll get thae cardsfor a penny afore next week's out. "

Francie Crabb found Tommy sniggering to himself in the back wynd. "Whatare you goucking at?" asked Francie, in surprise, for, as a rule, Tommyonly laughed behind his face. 

"I winna tell you, " chuckled Tommy, "but what a bar, oh, what a divert!"

"Come on, tell me. "

"Well, it's at the man as is swallowing swords ahint the menagerie. "

"I see nothing to laugh at in that. "

"I'm no laughing at that. I'm laughing at him for selling the swords forninepence the piece. Oh, what ignorant he is, oh, what a bar!"

"Ninepence is a mislaird price for a soord, " said Francie. "I never gaveninepence. "

Tommy looked at him in the way that always made boys fidget with theirfists. 

"You're near as big a bar as him, " he said scornfully. "Did you ever seethe sword that's hanging on the wall in the backroom at thepost-office?"

"No, but my father has telled me about it. It has a grand name. "

"It's an Andrea Ferrara, that's what it is. "

"Ay, I mind the name now; there has been folk killed wi' that soord. "

This was true, for the post-office Andrea Ferrara has a stirringhistory, but for the present its price was the important thing. "Dr. McQueen offered a pound note for it, " said Tommy. 

"I ken that, but what has it to do wi' the soord-swallower?"

"Just this; that the swords he is selling for ninepence are AndreaFerraras, the same as the post-office ones, and he could get a pound apiece for them if he kent their worth. Oh, what a bar, oh, what--"

Francie's eyes lit up greedily, and he looked at his twosilver shillings, and took two steps in the direction of thesword-swallower's, and faltered and could not make up his agitated mind. Tommy set off toward the square at a brisk walk. 

"Whaur are you off to?" asked Francie, following him. 

"To tell the man what his swords is worth. It would be ill done no totell him. " To clinch the matter, off went Tommy at a run, and off wentFrancie after him. As a rule Tommy was the swifter, but on this occasionhe lagged of fell purpose, and reached the sword-swallower's tent justin time to see Francie emerge elated therefrom, carrying two AndreaFerraras. Francie grinned when they met. 

"What a bar!" he crowed. 

"What a bar!" agreed Tommy, and sufficient has now been told to showthat he had found a way. Even Gav acknowledged a master, and, when theaccoutrements of war were bought at second hand as cheaply as Tommy hadpredicted, applauded him with eyes and mouth for a full week, afterwhich he saw things in a new light. Gav of course was to enter thebursary lists anon, and he had supposed that Cathro would have the lastyear's schooling of him; but no, his father decided to send him for thegrand final grind to Mr. Ogilvy of Glen Quharity, a famous dominiebetween whom and Mr. Dishart existed a friendship that none had ever gotat the root of. Mr. Cathro was more annoyed than he cared to show, Gavbeing of all the boys of that time the one likeliest to do his teacherhonor at the university competitions, but Tommy, though the decisioncost him an adherent, was not ill-pleased, for he had discovered thatGav was one of those irritating boys who like to be leader. Gav, as hasbeen said, suddenly saw Tommy's victory over Messrs. Birkie, Francie, etc. , in a new light; this was because when he wanted back the shillingwhich he had contributed to the funds for buying their purchases, Tommyreplied firmly:

"I canna give you the shilling, but I'll give you the lantern and thetartan cloth we bought wi' it. "

"What use could they be to me at Glen Quharity?" Gav protested. 

"Oh, if they are no use to you, " Tommy said sweetly, "me and Corp iswilling to buy them off you for threepence. "

Then Gav became a scorner of duplicity, but he had to consent to thebargain, and again Corp said to Tommy, "Oh, you crittur!" But he wassorry to lose a fellow-conspirator. "There's just the twa o' us now, " hesighed. 

"Just twa!" cried Tommy. "What are you havering about, man? There's asmany as I like to whistle for. "

"You mean Grizel and Elspeth, I ken, but--"

"I wasna thinking of the womenfolk, " Tommy told him, with acontemptuous wave of the hand. He went closer to Corp, and said, in alow voice, "The McKenzies are waiting!"

"Are they, though?" said Corp, perplexed, as he had no notion who theMcKenzies might be. 

"And Lochiel has twa hunder spearsmen. "

"Do you say so?"

"Young Kinnordy's ettling to come out, and I meet Lord Airlie, when themoon rises, at the Loups o' Kenny, and auld Bradwardine's as spunky asever, and there's fifty wild Highlandmen lying ready in the muckle caveof Clova. "

He spoke so earnestly that Corp could only ejaculate, "Michty me!"

"But of course they winna rise, " continued Tommy, darkly, "till helands. "

"Of course no, " said Corp, "but--wha is he?"

"Himsel', " whispered Tommy, "the Chevalier!"

Corp hesitated. "But, I thought, " he said diffidently, "I thought you--"

"So I am, " said Tommy. 

"But you said he hadna landed yet?"

"Neither he has. "

"But you--"

"Well?"

"You're here, are you no?"

Tommy stamped his foot in irritation. "You're slow in the uptak, " hesaid. "I'm no here. How can I be here when I'm at St. Germains?"

"Dinna be angry wi' me, " Corp begged. "I ken you're ower the water, butwhen I see you, I kind of forget; and just for the minute I think you'rehere. "

"Well, think afore you speak. "

"I'll try, but that's teuch work. When do you come to Scotland?"

"I'm no sure; but as soon as I'm ripe. "

At nights Tommy now sometimes lay among the cabbages of the school-housewatching the shadow of Black Cathro on his sitting-room blind. Cathronever knew he was there. The reason Tommy lay among the cabbages wasthat there was a price upon his head. 

"But if Black Cathro wanted to get the blood-money, " Corp saidapologetically, "he could nab you any day. He kens you fine. "

Tommy smiled meaningly. "Not him, " he answered, "I've cheated him bonny, he hasna a notion wha I am. Corp, would you like a good laugh?"

"That I would. "

"Weel, then, I'll tell you wha he thinks I am. Do you ken a little houseyont the road a bitty irae Monypenny?"

"I ken no sic house, " said Corp, "except Aaron's. "

"Aaron's the man as bides in it, " Tommy continued hastily, "at least Ithink that's the name. Well, as you ken the house, you've maybe noticeda laddie that bides there too?"

"There's no laddie, " began Corp, "except--"

"Let me see, " interrupted Tommy, "what was his name? Was it Peter? No. Was it Willie? Stop, I mind, it was Tommy. "

He glared so that Corp dared not utter a word. 

"Have you notitched him?"

"I've--I've seen him, " Corp gasped. 

"Well, this is the joke, " said Tommy, trying vainly to restrain hismirth, "Cathro thinks I'm that laddie! Ho! ho! ho!"

Corp scratched his head, then he bit his warts, then he spat upon hishands, then he said "Damn. "

The crisis came when Cathro, still ignorant that the heather was onfire, dropped some disparaging remarks about the Stuarts to his historyclass. Tommy said nothing, but--but one of the school-windows waswithout a snib, and next morning when the dominie reached his desk hewas surprised to find on it a little cotton glove. He raised it on high, greatly puzzled, and then, as ever when he suspected knavery, his eyessought Tommy, who was sitting on a form, his arms proudly folded. Thatthe whelp had put the glove there, Cathro no longer doubted, and hewould have liked to know why, but was reluctant to give him thesatisfaction of asking. So the gauntlet--for gauntlet it was--was laidaside, the while Tommy, his head humming like a beeskep, mutteredtriumphantly through his teeth, "But he lifted it, he lifted it!" and atclosing time it was flung in his face with this fair tribute:

"I'm no a rich man, laddie, but I would give a pound note to know whatyou'll be at ten years from now. "

There could be no mistaking the dire meaning of these words, and Tommyhurried, pale but determined, to the quarry, where Corp, with a barrowin his hands, was learning strange phrases by heart, and finding it ahelp to call his warts after the new swears. 

"Corp, " cried Tommy, firmly, "I've set sail!"

On the following Saturday evening Charles Edward landed in the Den. Inhis bonnet was the white cockade, and round his waist a tartan sash;though he had long passed man's allotted span his face was still full offire, his figure lithe and even boyish. For state reasons he had assumedthe name of Captain Stroke. As he leapt ashore from the bark, theDancing Shovel, he was received right loyally by Corp and other faithfuladherents, of whom only two, and these of a sex to which his House wasever partial, were visible, owing to the gathering gloom. Corp of thatIlk sank on his knees at the water's edge, and kissing his royalmaster's hand said, fervently, "Welcome, my prince, once more to bonnyScotland!" Then he rose and whispered, but with scarcely less emotion, "There's an egg to your tea. "

CHAPTER XXII

THE SIEGE OF THRUMS

The man in the moon is a native of Thrums, who was put up there forhacking sticks on the Sabbath, and as he sails over the Den his interestin the bit placey is still sufficient to make him bend forward and cry"Boo!" at the lovers. When they jump apart you can see the agedreprobate grinning. Once out of sight of the den, he cares not a boddlehow the moon travels, but the masterful crittur enrages him if she is ina hurry here, just as he is cleverly making out whose children'schildren are courting now. "Slow, there!" he cries to the moon, but sheanswers placidly that they have the rest of the world to view to-night. "The rest of the world be danged!" roars the man, and he cranes his neckfor a last glimpse of the Cuttle Well, until he nearly falls out of themoon. 

Never had the man such a trying time as during the year now before him. It was the year when so many scientific magnates sat up half the nightin their shirts, spying at him through telescopes. But every effort todiscover why he was in such a fidget failed, because the spy-glasseswere never levelled at the Thrums den. Through the whole of theincidents now to tell, you may conceive the man (on whom sympathy wouldbe wasted) dagoning horribly, because he was always carried past the denbefore he could make head or tail of the change that had come over it. 

The spot chosen by the ill-fated Stuart and his gallant remnant fortheir last desperate enterprise was eminently fitted for their purpose. Being round the corner from Thrums, it was commanded by no fortifiedplace save the farm of Nether Drumgley, and on a recent goustie nightnearly all the trees had been blown down, making a hundred hiding-placesfor bold climbers, and transforming the Den into a scene of wild andmournful grandeur. In no bay more suitable than the flooded field calledthe Silent Pool could the hunted prince have cast anchor, for the Poolis not only sheltered from observation, but so little troubled by galesthat it had only one drawback: at some seasons of the year it was notthere. This, however, did not vex Stroke, as it is cannier to call him, for he burned his boats on the night he landed (and a dagont, tediousjob it was too), and pointed out to his followers that the drouth whichkept him in must also keep the enemy out. Part of the way to the lairthey usually traversed in the burn, because water leaves no trace, andthough they carried turnip lanterns and were armed to the teeth, thiswas often a perilous journey owing to the lovers close at hand on thepink path, from which the trees had been cleared, for lads and lassesmust walk whate'er betide. Ronny-On's Jean and Peter Scrymgeour, littleLisbeth Doak and long Sam'l from Pyotdykes were pairing that year, andnever knew how near they were to being dirked by Corp of Corp, who, lurking in the burn till there were no tibbits in his toes, mutteredfiercely, "Cheep one single cheep, and it will be thy hinmost, methinks!" under the impression that Methinks was a Jacobite oath. 

For this voluntary service, Stroke clapped Corp of Corp on the shoulderwith a naked sword, and said, "Rise, Sir Joseph!" which made Corp moreconfused than ever, for he was already Corp of Corp, Him of MuckleKenny, Red McNeil, Andrew Ferrara, and the Master of Inverquharity(Stroke's names), as well as Stab-in-the-Dark, Grind-them-to-Mullins, and Warty Joe (his own), and which he was at any particular moment henever knew, till Stroke told him, and even then he forgot and had to beput in irons. 

The other frequenters of the lair on Saturday nights (when alone therebellion was active) were the proud Lady Grizel and Widow Elspeth. Ithad been thought best to make Elspeth a widow, because she was soreligious. 

The lair was on the right bank of the burn, near the waterfall, and youclimbed to it by ropes, unless you preferred an easier way. It is now adripping hollow, down which water dribbles from beneath a sluice, but atthat time it was hidden on all sides by trees and the huge clods ofsward they had torn from the earth as they fell. Two of these clods werethe only walls of the lair, which had at times a ceiling not unlikeAaron Latta's bed coverlets, and the chief furniture was two barrels, marked "Usquebach" and "Powder. " When the darkness of Stroke's fortunessat like a pall upon his brow, as happened sometimes, he sought to driveit away by playing cards on one of these barrels with Sir Joseph, butthe approach of the Widow made him pocket them quickly with a warningsign to his trusty knight, who did not understand, and asked what hadbecome of them, whereupon Elspeth cried, in horror:

"Cards! Oh, Tommy, you promised--"

But Stroke rode her down with, "Cards! Wha has been playing cards? You, Muckle Kenny, and you, Sir Joseph, after I forbade it! Hie, there, Inverquharity, all of you, seize those men. "

Then Corp blinked, came to his senses and marched himself off to theprison on the lonely promontory called the Queen's Bower, sayingferociously, "Jouk, Sir Joseph, and I'll blaw you into posterity. "

It is sable night when Stroke and Sir Joseph reach a point in the Denwhence the glimmering lights of the town are distinctly visible. Neitherspeaks. Presently the distant eight-o'clock bell rings, and then SirJoseph looks anxiously at his warts, for this is the signal to begin, and as usual he has forgotten the words. 

"Go on, " says someone in a whisper. It cannot be Stroke, for his headis brooding on his breast. This mysterious voice haunted all the doingsin the Den, and had better be confined in brackets. 

("Go on. ")

"Methinks, " says Sir Joseph, "methinks the borers--"

("Burghers. ")

"Methinks the burghers now cease from their labors. "

"Ay, " replied Stroke, "'tis so, would that they ceased from themforever!"

"Methinks the time is at hand. "

"Ha!" exclaims Stroke, looking at his lieutenant curiously, "what makestthou say so? For three weeks these fortifications have defied my cannon, there is scarce a breach yet in the walls of yonder town. "

"Methinks thou wilt find a way. "

"It may be so, my good Sir Joseph, it may be so, and yet, even when I ammost hopeful of success, my schemes go a gley. "

"Methinks thy dark--"

("Dinna say Methinks so often. ")

("Tommy, I maun. If I dinna get that to start me off, I go throughother. ")

("Go on. ")

"Methinks thy dark spirit lies on thee to-night. "

"Ay, 'tis too true. But canst thou blame me if I grow sad? The townstill in the enemy's hands, and so much brave blood already spilt invain. Knowest thou that the brave Kinnordy fell last night? My nobleKinnordy!"

Here Stroke covers his face with his hands, weeping silently, and--andthere is an awkward pause. 

("Go on--'Still have me. '")

("So it is. ") "Weep not, my royal scone--"

("Scion. ")

"Weep not, my royal scion, havest thou not still me?"

"Well said, Sir Joseph, " cries Stroke, dashing the sign of weakness fromhis face. "I still have many brave fellows, and with their help I shallbe master of this proud town. "

"And then ghost we to fair Edinburgh?"

"Ay, 'tis so, but, Sir Joseph, thinkest thou these burghers love theStuart not?"

"'_Nay, _ methinks they are true to thee, but their starchcommander--(give me my time, this is a lang ane, ) but their archcommander is thy bitterest foe. Vile spoon that he is! (It's no spoon, it's spawn. )"

"Thou meanest the craven Cathro?"

"Methinks ay. (I like thae short anes. )"

"'Tis well!" says Stroke, sternly. "That man hath ever slipped betweenme and my right. His time will come. "

"He floppeth thee--he flouteth thee from the battlements. "

"Ha, 'tis well!"

("You've said that already. ")

("I say it twice. ")

("That's what aye puts me wrang. ) Ghost thou to meet the proud LadyGrizel to-night?"

"Ay. "

"Ghost thou alone?"

"Ay. "

("What easy anes you have!) I fear it is not chancey for thee to go. "

"I must dree my dreed. "

"These women is kittle cattle. "

"The Stuart hath ever a soft side for them. Ah, my trustyfoster-brother, knowest thou not what it is to love?"

"Alas, I too have had my fling. (Does Grizel kiss your hand yet?)"

"(No, she winna, the limmer. ) Sir Joseph, I go to her. "

"Methinks she is a haughty onion. I prithee go not to-night. "

"I have given my word. "

"Thy word is a band. "

"Adieu, my friend. "

"Methinks thou ghost to thy damn. (Did we no promise Elspeth thereshould be no swearing?)"

The raft Vick Lan Vohr is dragged to the shore, and Stroke steps onboard, a proud solitary figure. "Farewell!" he cries hoarsely, as heseizes the oar. 

"Farewell, my leech, " answers Corp, and then helps him to disembark. Their hands chance to meet, and Stroke's is so hot that Corp quails. 

"Tommy, " he says, with a shudder, "do you--you dinna think it's a' true, do you?" But the ill-fated prince only gives him a warning look andplunges into the mazes of the forest. For a long time silence reignsover the Den. Lights glint fitfully, a human voice imitates theplaintive cry of the peewit, cautious whistling follows, comes next theclash of arms, and the scream of one in the death-throes, and againsilence falls. Stroke emerges near the Reekie Broth Pot, wiping hissword and muttering, "Faugh! it drippeth!" At the same moment the air isfilled with music of more than mortal--well, the air is filled withmusic. It seems to come from but a few yards away, and pressing his handto his throbbing brow the Chevalier presses forward till, pushing asidethe branches of a fallen fir, he comes suddenly upon a scene of suchromantic beauty that he stands rooted to the ground. Before him, softlylit by a half-moon (the man in it perspiring with curiosity), is aminiature dell, behind which rise threatening rocks, overgrown here andthere by grass, heath, and bracken, while in the centre of the dell is abubbling spring called the Cuttle Well, whose water, as it overflows anatural basin, soaks into the surrounding ground and so finds a way intothe picturesque stream below. But it is not the loveliness of the spotwhich fascinates the prince; rather is it the exquisite creature whosits by the bubbling spring, a reed from a hand-loom in her hands, fromwhich she strikes mournful sounds, the while she raises her voice insong. A pink scarf and a blue ribbon are crossed upon her breast, herdark tresses kiss her lovely neck, and as she sits on the only drystone, her face raised as if in wrapt communion with the heavens, andher feet tucked beneath her to avoid the mud, she seems not a humanbeing, but the very spirit of the place and hour. The royal wandererremains spellbound, while she strikes her lyre and sings (with but onetrivial alteration) the song of MacMurrough:--

Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountains, the frith and the lake!'Tis the bugle--but not for the chase is the call;'Tis the pibroch's shrill summons--but not to the hall. 

'Tis the summons of heroes for conquest or death, When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath;They call to the dirk, the claymore and the targe, To the march and the muster, the line and the charge. 

Be the brand of each Chieftain like Stroke's in his ire!May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire!Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore, Or die like your sires, and endure it no more. 

As the fair singer concluded, Stroke, who had been deeply moved, heaveda great sigh, and immediately, as if in echo of it, came a sigh from theopposite side of the dell. In a second of time three people had learnedthat a certain lady had two lovers. She starts to her feet, stillcarefully avoiding the puddles, but it is not she who speaks. 

("Did you hear me?")

("Ay. ")

("You're ready?")

("Ca' awa'. ")

Stroke dashes to the girl's side, just in time to pluck her from thearms of a masked man. The villain raises his mask and reveals the faceof--it looks like Corp, but the disguise is thrown away on Stroke. 

"Ha, Cathro, " he exclaims joyfully, "so at last we meet on equal terms!"

"Back, Stroke, and let me pass. "

"Nay, we fight for the wench. "

"So be it. The prideful onion is his who wins her. "

"Have at thee, caitiff!"

A terrible conflict ensues. Cathro draws first blood. 'Tis but ascratch. Ha! well thrust, Stroke. In vain Cathro girns his teeth. Inchby inch he is driven back, he slips, he recovers, he pants, he isapparently about to fling himself down the steep bank and so find safetyin flight, but he comes on again. 

("What are you doing? You run now. ")

("I ken, but I'm sweer!")

("Off you go. ")

Even as Stroke is about to press home, the cowardly foe flings himselfdown the steep bank and rolls out of sight. He will give no more troubleto-night; and the victor turns to the Lady Grizel, who had beenrepinning the silk scarf across her breast, while the issue of thecombat was still in doubt. 

("Now, then, Grizel, you kiss my hand. ")

("I tell you I won't. ")

("Well, then, go on your knees to me. ")

("You needn't think it. ")

("Dagon you! Then ca' awa' standing. ")

"My liege, thou hast saved me from the wretch Cathro. "

"May I always be near to defend thee in time of danger, my prettychick. "

("Tommy, you promised not to call me by those silly names. ")

("They slip out, I tell you. That was aye the way wi' the Stuarts. ")

("Well, you must say 'Lady Grizel. ') Good, my prince, how can I thankthee?"

"By being my wife. (Not a word of this to Elspeth. )"

"Nay, I summoned thee here to tell thee that can never be. The Grizelsof Grizel are of ancient lineage, but they mate not with monarchs. Mysire, the nunnery gates will soon close on me forever. "

"Then at least say thou lovest me. "

"Alas, I love thee not. "

("What haver is this? I telled you to say 'Charles, would that I lovedthee less. '")

("And I told you I would not. ")

("Well, then, where are we now?")

("We miss out all that about my wearing your portrait next my heart, andput in the rich apparel bit, the same as last week. ")

("Oh! Then I go on?) Bethink thee, fair jade--"

("Lady. ")

"Bethink thee, fair lady, Stuart is not so poor but that, if thou comewith him to his lowly lair, he can deck thee with rich apparel andribbons rare. "

"I spurn thy gifts, unhappy man, but if there are holes in--"

("Miss that common bit out. I canna thole it. ")

("I like it. ) If there are holes in the garments of thy loyal followers, I will come and mend them, and have a needle and thread in my pocket. (Tommy, there is another button off your shirt! Have you got thebutton?")

"(It's down my breeks. ) So be it, proud girl, come!"

It was Grizel who made masks out of tin rags, picked up where tinkershad passed the night, and musical instruments out of broken reeds thatsmelled of caddis and Jacobite head-gear out of weaver's night-caps; andshe kept the lair so clean and tidy as to raise a fear that intrudersmight mistake its character. Elspeth had to mind the pot, which AaronLatta never missed, and Corp was supposed to light the fire by strikingsparks from his knife, a trick which Tommy considered so easy that herefused to show how it was done. Many strange sauces were boiled in thatpot, a sort of potato-turnip pudding often coming out even when notexpected, but there was an occasional rabbit that had been bowled overby Corp's unerring hand, and once Tommy shot a--a haunch of venison, having first, with Corp's help, howked it out of Ronny-On's swine, thensuspended head downward, and open like a book at the page of contents, steaming, dripping, a tub beneath, boys with bladders in the distance. When they had supped they gathered round the fire, Grizel knitting ashawl for they knew whom, but the name was never mentioned, and Tommytold the story of his life at the French court, and how he fought in the'45 and afterward hid in caves, and so did he shudder, as he describedthe cold of his bracken beds, and so glowed his face, for it was allreal to him, that Grizel let the wool drop on her knee, and Corpwhispered to Elspeth, "Dinna be fleid for him; I'se uphaud he found awy. " Those quiet evenings were not the least pleasant spent in the Den. 

But sometimes they were interrupted by a fierce endeavor to carry thelair, when boys from Cathro's climbed to it up each other's backs, therope, of course, having been pulled into safety at the first sound, andthen that end of the Den rang with shouts, and deeds of valor on bothsides were as common as pine needles, and once Tommy and Corp were onlysaved from captors who had them down, by Grizel rushing into the midstof things with two flaring torches, and another time bold Birkie, mostdaring of the storming party, was seized with two others and made towalk the plank. The plank had been part of a gate, and was suspendedover the bank of the Silent Pool, so that, as you approached the fartherend, down you went. It was not a Jacobite method, but Tommy feared thatrows of bodies, hanging from the trees still standing in the Den, mightattract attention. 

CHAPTER XXIII

GRIZEL PAYS THREE VISITS

Less alarming but more irritating was the attempt of the youth ofMonypenny and the West town end, to establish a rival firm of Jacobites(without even being sure of the name). They started business (FrancieCrabb leader, because he had a kilt) on a flagon of porter and anounce of twist, which they carried on a stick through the Den, saying"Bowf!" like dogs, when they met anyone, and then laughing doubtfully. The twist and porter were seized by Tommy and his followers, andHaggerty-Taggerty, Major, arrived home with his head so firmly securedin the flagon that the solder had to be melted before he saw the worldagain. Francie was in still worse plight, for during the remainder ofthe evening he had to hide in shame among the brackens, and Tommy wore akilt. 

One cruel revenge the beaten rivals had. They waylaid Grizel, when shewas alone, and thus assailed her, she answering not a word. 

"What's a father?"

"She'll soon no have a mither either!"

"The Painted Lady needs to paint her cheeks no longer!"

"Na, the red spots comes themsels now. "

"Have you heard her hoasting?"

"Ay, it's the hoast o' a dying woman. "

"The joiner heard it, and gave her a look, measuring her wi' his eye forthe coffin. 'Five and a half by one and a half would hold her snod, ' hesays to himsel'. "

"Ronny-On's auld wife heard it, and says she, 'Dinna think, my leddy, asyou'll be buried in consecrated ground. '"

"Na, a'body kens she'll just be hauled at the end o' a rope to the holewhere the witches was shooled in. "

"Wi' a paling spar through her, to keep her down on the day o'judgment. "

Well, well, these children became men and women in time, one of themeven a bit of a hero, though he never knew it. 

Are you angry with them? If so, put the cheap thing aside, or think onlyof Grizel, and perhaps God will turn your anger into love for her. 

Great-hearted, solitary child! She walked away from them withoutflinching, but on reaching the Den, where no one could see her--she laydown on the ground, and her cheeks were dry, but little wells of waterstood in her eyes. 

She would not be the Lady Grizel that night. She went home instead, butthere was something she wanted to ask Tommy now, and the next time shesaw him she began at once. Grizel always began at once, often in themiddle, she saw what she was making for so clearly. 

"Do you know what it means when there are red spots in your cheeks, thatused not to be there?"

Tommy knew at once to whom she was referring, for he had heard thegossip of the youth of Monypenny, and he hesitated to answer. 

"And if, when you cough, you bring up a tiny speck of blood?"

"I would get a bottle frae the doctor, " said Tommy, evasively. 

"She won't have the doctor, " answered Grizel, unguardedly, and then witha look dared Tommy to say that she spoke of her mother. 

"Does it mean you are dying?"

"I--I--oh, no, they soon get better. "

He said this because he was so sorry for Grizel. There never was a moresympathetic nature than Tommy's. At every time of his life his pity waseasily roused for persons in distress, and he sought to comfort them byshutting their eyes to the truth as long as possible. This sometimesbrought relief to them, but it was useless to Grizel, who must face hertroubles. 

"Why don't you answer truthfully?" she cried, with vehemence. "It is soeasy to be truthful!"

"Well, then, " said Tommy, reluctantly, "I think they generally die. "

Elspeth often carried in her pocket a little Testament, presented to herby the Rev. Mr. Dishart for learning by heart one of the noblest ofbooks, the Shorter Catechism, as Scottish children do or did, notunderstanding it at the time, but its meaning comes long afterwards andsuddenly, when you have most need of it. Sometimes Elspeth read aloudfrom her Testament to Grizel, who made no comment, but this sameevening, when the two were alone, she said abruptly:

"Have you your Testament?"

"Yes, " Elspeth said, producing it. 

"Which is the page about saving sinners?"

"It's all about that. "

"But the page when you are in a hurry?"

Elspeth read aloud the story of the Crucifixion, and Grizel listenedsharply until she heard what Jesus said to the malefactor: "To-day shaltthou be with me in Paradise. "

"And was he?"

"Of course. "

"But he had been wicked all his life, and I believe he was only good, just that minute, because they were crucifying him. If they had let himcome down. --"

"No, he repented, you know. That means he had faith, and if you havefaith you are saved. It doesna matter how bad you have been. You havejust to say 'I believe' before you die, and God lets you in. It's soeasy, Grizel, " cried Elspeth, with shining eyes. 

Grizel pondered. "I don't believe it is so easy as that, " she said, decisively. 

Nevertheless she asked presently what the Testament cost, and whenElspeth answered "Fourpence, " offered her the money. 

"I don't want to sell it, " Elspeth remonstrated. 

"If you don't give it to me, I shall take it from you, " said Grizel, determinedly. 

"You can buy one. "

"No, the shop people would guess. "

"Guess what?"

"I won't tell you. "

"I'll lend it to you. "

"I won't take it that way. " So Elspeth had to part with her Testament, saying wonderingly, "Can you read?"

"Yes, and write too. Mamma taught me. "

"But I thought she was daft, " Elspeth blurted out. 

"She is only daft now and then, " Grizel replied, without her usualspirit. "Generally she is not daft at all, but only timid. "

Next morning the Painted Lady's child paid three calls, one in town, twoin the country. The adorable thing is that, once having made up hermind, she never flinched, not even when her hand was on the knocker. 

The first gentleman received her in his lobby. For a moment he did notremember her; then suddenly the color deepened on his face, and he wentback and shut the parlor-door. 

"Did anybody see you coming here?" he asked, quickly. 

"I don't know. "

"What does she want?"

"She did not send me, I came myself. "

"Well?"

"When you come to our house--"

"I never come to your house. "

"That is a lie. "

"Speak lower!"

"When you come to our house you tell me to go out and play. But I don't. I go and cry. "

No doubt he was listening, but his eyes were on the parlor-door. 

"I don't know why I cry, but you know, you wicked man! Why is it?"

"Why is it?" she demanded again, like a queen-child, but he could onlyfidget with his gold chain and shuffle uneasily in his parnella shoes. 

"You are not coming to see my mamma again. "

The gentleman gave her an ugly look. 

"If you do, " she said at once, "I shall come straight here and open thatdoor you are looking at, and tell your wife. "

He dared not swear. His hand--

"If you offer me money, " said Grizel, "I shall tell her now. "

He muttered something to himself. 

"Is it true?" she asked, "that mamma is dying?"

This was a genuine shock to him, for he had not been at Double Dykessince winter, and then the Painted Lady was quite well. 

"Nonsense!" he said, and his obvious disbelief brought some comfort tothe girl. But she asked, "Why are there red spots on her cheeks, then?"

"Paint, " he answered. 

"No, " cried Grizel, rocking her arms, "it is not paint now. I thought itmight be and I tried to rub it off while she was sleeping, but it willnot come off. And when she coughs there is blood on her handkerchief. "

He looked alarmed now, and Grizel's fears came back. "If mamma dies, "she said determinedly, "she must be buried in the cemetery. "

"She is not dying, I tell you. "

"And you must come to the funeral. "

"Are you gyte?"

"With crape on your hat. "

His mouth formed an emphatic "No. "

"You must, " said Grizel, firmly, "you shall! If you don't--" She pointedto the parlor-door. 

Her remaining two visits were to a similar effect, and one of thegentlemen came out of the ordeal somewhat less shamefully than thefirst, the other worse, for he blubbered and wanted to kiss her. It isquestionable whether many young ladies have made such a profoundimpression in a series of morning calls. 

The names of these gentlemen are not known, but you shall be toldpresently where they may be found. Every person in Thrums used to knowthe place, and many itched to get at the names, but as yet no one hashad the nerve to look for them. 

Not at this time did Grizel say a word of these interviews to herfriends, though Tommy had to be told of them later, and she never againreferred to her mother at the Saturday evenings in the Den. But theothers began to know a queer thing, nothing less than this, that intheir absence the lair was sometimes visited by a person or personsunknown, who made use of their stock of firewood. It was a startlingdiscovery, but when they discussed it in council, Grizel nevercontributed a word. The affair remained a mystery until one Saturdayevening, when Tommy and Elspeth, reaching the lair first, found in it adelicate white shawl. They both recognized in it the pretty thing thePainted Lady had pinned across her shoulders on the night they saw hersteal out of Double Dykes, to meet the man of long ago. 

Even while their eyes were saying this, Grizel climbed in without givingthe password, and they knew from her quick glance around that she hadcome for the shawl. She snatched it out of Tommy's hand with a lookthat prohibited questions. 

"It's the pair o' them, " Tommy said to Elspeth at the first opportunity, "that sometimes comes here at nights and kindles the fire and warmsthemsels at the gloze. And the last time they came they forgot theshawl. "

"I dinna like to think the Painted Lady has been up here, Tommy. "

"But she has. You ken how, when she has a daft fit, she wanders the Dentrysting the man that never comes. Has she no been seen at all hours o'the night, Grizel following a wee bit ahint, like as if to take tent oher?"

"They say that, and that Grizel canna get her to go home till the daftfit has passed. "

"Well, she has that kechering hoast and spit now, and so Grizel bringsher up here out o' the blasts. "

"But how could she be got to come here, if she winna go home?"

"Because frae here she can watch for the man. "

Elspeth shuddered. "Do you think she's here often, Tommy?" she asked. 

"Just when she has a daft fit on, and they say she's wise sax days inseven. "

This made the Jacobite meetings eerie events for Elspeth, but Tommyliked them the better; and what were they not to Grizel, who ran to themwith passionate fondness every Saturday night? Sometimes she evenoutdistanced her haunting dreads, for she knew that her mother did notthink herself seriously ill; and had not the three gentlemen made lightof that curious cough? So there were nights when the lair saw Grizel goriotous with glee, laughing, dancing, and shouting over-much, like onetrying to make up for a lost childhood. But it was also noticed thatwhen the time came to leave the Den she was very loath, and kissed herhands to the places where she had been happiest, saying, wistfully, andwith pretty gestures that were foreign to Thrums, "Good-night, dearCuttle Well! Good-by, sweet, sweet Lair!" as if she knew it could notlast. These weekly risings in the Den were most real to Tommy, but itwas Grizel who loved them best. 

CHAPTER XXIV

A ROMANCE OF TWO OLD MAIDS AND A STOUT BACHELOR

Came Gavinia, a burgess of the besieged city, along the south shore ofthe Silent Pool. She was but a maid seeking to know what love might be, and as she wandered on, she nibbled dreamily at a hot sweet-smellingbridie, whose gravy oozed deliciously through a bursting paper-bag. 

It was a fit night for dark deeds. 

"Methinks she cometh to her damn!"

The speaker was a masked man who had followed her--he was sniffingecstatically--since she left the city walls. 

She seemed to possess a charmed life. He would have had her in ShovelGorge, but just then Ronny-On's Jean and Peter Scrymgeour turned thecorner. 

Suddenly Gavinia felt an exquisite thrill: a man was pursuing her. Sheslipped the paper-bag out of sight, holding it dexterously against herside with her arm, so that the gravy should not spurt out, and ran. Lights flashed, a kingly voice cried "Now!" and immediately a petticoatwas flung over her head. (The Lady Griselda looked thin that evening. )

Gavinia was dragged to the Lair, and though many a time they bumped her, she still tenderly nursed the paper-bag with her arm, or fondly thoughtshe did so, for when unmuffled she discovered that it had been removed, as if by painless surgery. And her captors' tongues were sweeping theirchins for stray crumbs. 

The wench was offered her choice of Stroke's gallant fellows, but "Whacarries me wears me, " said she, promptly, and not only had he to carryher from one end of the Den to the other, but he must do it whistling asif barely conscious that she was there. So after many attempts (for shewas always willing to let them have their try) Corp of Corp, speakingfor Sir Joseph and the others, announced a general retreat. 

Instead of taking this prisoner's life, Stroke made her his tool, releasing her on condition that every seventh day she appeared at theLair with information concerning the doings in the town. Also, her namewas Agnes of Kingoldrum, and, if she said it was not, the plank. Boughtthus, Agnes proved of service, bringing such bags of news that Strokewas often occupied now in drawing diagrams of Thrums and itsstrongholds, including the residence of Cathro, with dotted lines toshow the direction of proposed underground passages. 

And presently came by this messenger disquieting rumors indeed. Anotherletter, being the third in six months, had reached the Dovecot, addressed, not to Miss Ailie, but to Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty had beendead fully six years, and Archie Piatt, the post, swore that this wasthe eighteenth, if not the nineteenth, letter he had delivered to hername since that time. They were all in the same hand, a man's, and therehad been similar letters while she was alive, but of these he kept norecord. Miss Ailie always took these letters with a trembling hand, andthen locked herself in her bedroom, leaving the key in such a positionin its hole that you might just as well go straight back to the kitchen. Within a few hours of the arrival of these ghostly letters, tongues werewagging about them, but to the two or three persons who (after passing asleepless night) bluntly asked Miss Ailie from whom they came, she onlyreplied by pursing her lips. Nothing could be learned at the post-officesave that Miss Ailie never posted any letters there, except to twoMisses and a Mrs. , all resident in Redlintie. The mysterious letterscame from Australy or Manchester, or some such part. 

What could Stroke make of this? He expressed no opinion, but oh, hisface was grim. Orders were immediately given to double the sentinels. Abarrel was placed in the Queen's Bower. Sawdust was introduced atimmense risk into the Lair. A paper containing this writing, "248xho317Oxh4591AWS314dd5, " was passed round and then solemnly burned. Nothingwas left to chance. 

Agnes of Kingoldrum (Stroke told her) did not know Miss Ailie, but shewas commanded to pay special attention to the gossip of the townregarding this new move of the enemy. By next Saturday the plot hadthickened. Previous letters might have reddened Miss Ailie's eyes for anhour or two, but they gladdened her as a whole. Now she sat crying allevening with this one on her lap; she gave up her daily walk to theBerlin wool shop, with all its romantic possibilities; at the clatter ofthe tea-things she would start apprehensively; she had let a red shawllie for two days in the blue-and-white room. 

Stroke never blanched. He called his faithful remnant around him, andtold them the story of Bell the Cat, with its application in the recordsof his race. Did they take his meaning? This Miss Ailie must be watchedclosely. In short, once more, in Scottish history, someone must bell thecat. Who would volunteer?

Corp of Corp and Sir Joseph stepped forward as one man. 

"Thou couldst not look like Gavinia, " the prince said, shaking his head. 

"Wha wants him to look like Gavinia?" cried an indignant voice. 

"Peace, Agnes!" said Stroke. 

"Agnes, why bletherest thou?" said Sir Joseph. 

"If onybody's to watch Miss Ailie, " insisted the obstinate woman, "surely it should be me!"

"Ha!" Stroke sprang to his feet, for something in her voice, or theoutline of her figure, or perhaps it was her profile, had given him anidea. "A torch!" he cried eagerly and with its aid he scanned her faceuntil his own shone triumphant. 

"He kens a wy, methinks!" exclaimed one of his men. 

Sir Joseph was right. It had been among the prince's exploits to makehis way into Thrums in disguise, and mix with the people as one ofthemselves, and on several of these occasions he had seen Miss Ailie'sattendant. Agnes's resemblance to her now struck him for the first time. It should be Agnes of Kingoldrum's honorable though dangerous part totake this Gavinia's place. 

But how to obtain possession of Gavinia's person? Agnes made severalsuggestions, but was told to hold her prating peace. It could only bedone in one way. They must kidnap her. Sir Joseph was ordered to beready to accompany his liege on this perilous enterprise in ten minutes. "And mind, " said Stroke, gravely, "we carry our lives in our hands. "

"In our hands!" gasped Sir Joseph, greatly puzzled, but he dared ask nomore, and when the two set forth (leaving Agnes of Kingoldrum lookingvery uncomfortable), he was surprised to see that Stroke was carryingnothing. Sir Joseph carried in his hand his red hanky, mysteriouslyknotted. 

"Where is yours?" he whispered. 

"What meanest thou?"

Sir Joseph replied, "Oh, nothing, " and thought it best to slip hishandkerchief into his trouser-pocket, but the affair bothered him forlong afterwards. 

When they returned through the Den, there still seemed (to theunpiercing eye) to be but two of them; nevertheless, Stroke re-enteredthe Lair to announce to Agnes and the others that he had left Gaviniabelow in charge of Sir Joseph. She was to walk the plank anon, but firstshe must be stripped that Agnes might don her garments. Stroke was everyinch a prince, so he kept Agnes by his side, and sent down the LadyGriselda and Widow Elspeth to strip the prisoner, Sir Joseph havingorders to stand back fifty paces. (It is a pleasure to have to recordthis. )

The signal having been given that this delicate task was accomplished, Stroke whistled shrilly, and next moment was heard from far below athud, as of a body falling in water, then an agonizing shriek, and thenagain all was still, save for the heavy breathing of Agnes ofKingoldrum. 

Sir Joseph (very wet) returned to the Lair, and Agnes was commanded totake off her clothes in a retired spot and put on those of the deceased, which she should find behind a fallen tree. 

"I winna be called the deceased, " cried Agnes hotly, but she had to doas she was bid, and when she emerged, from behind the tree she was thevery image of the ill-fated Gavinia. Stroke showed her a plan of MissAilie's backdoor, and also gave her a kitchen key (when he producedthis, she felt in her pockets and then snatched it from him), afterwhich she set out for the Dovecot in a scare about her own identity. 

"And now, what doest thou think about it a'?" inquired Sir Josepheagerly, to which Stroke made answer, looking at him fixedly. 

"The wind is in the west!"

Sir Joseph should have kept this a secret, but soon Stroke heardInverquharity prating of it, and he called his lieutenant before him. Sir Joseph acknowledged humbly that he had been unable to hide it fromInverquharity, but he promised not to tell Muckle Kenny, of whoseloyalty there were doubts. Henceforth, when the faithful fellow wasMuckle Kenny, he would say doggedly to himself, "Dinna question me, Kenny. I ken nocht about it. "

Dark indeed were now the fortunes of the Pretender, but they had onebright spot. Miss Ailie had been taken in completely by the trick playedon her, and thus Stroke now got full information of the enemy's doings. Cathro having failed to dislodge the Jacobites, the seat of war had beenchanged by Victoria to the Dovecot, whither her despatches were nowforwarded. That this last one, of which Agnes of Kingoldrum tried invain to obtain possession, doubled the price on the Pretender's head, there could be no doubt; but as Miss Ailie was a notorious Hanoverian, only the hunted prince himself knew why this should make her cry. 

He hinted with a snigger something about an affair he had once had withthe lady. 

The Widow and Sir Joseph accepted this explanation, but it made LadyGriselda rock her arms in irritation. 

The reports about Miss Ailie's behavior became more and more alarming. She walked up and down her bedroom now in the middle of the night. Everytime the knocker clanked she held herself together with both hands. Agnes had orders not to answer the door until her mistress had keekedthrough the window. 

"She's expecting a veesitor, methinks, " said Corp. This was his brightday. 

"Ay, " answered Agnes, "but is't a man-body, or just a woman-body?"

Leaving the rebels in the Lair stunned by Victoria's latest move, we nowreturn to Thrums, where Miss Ailie's excited state had indeed been thetalk of many. Even the gossips, however, had underestimated her distressof mind, almost as much as they misunderstood its cause. You must listennow (will you?) to so mild a thing as the long thin romance of twomaiden ladies and a stout bachelor, all beginning to be old the day thethree of them first drank tea together, and that was ten years ago. 

Miss Ailie and Miss Kitty, you may remember, were not natives of Thrums. They had been born and brought up at Redlintie, and on the death oftheir parents they had remained there, the gauger having left them allhis money, which was just sufficient to enable them to live like ladies, if they took tiny Magenta Cottage, and preferred an inexperienced maid. At first their life was very quiet, the walk from eleven to one for thegood of fragile Miss Kitty's health its outstanding feature. When theystrolled together on the cliffs, Miss Ailie's short thick figure, straight as an elvint, cut the wind in two, but Miss Kitty was swayedthis way and that, and when she shook her curls at the wind, it blewthem roguishly in her face, and had another shot at them, as soon asthey were put to rights. If the two walked by the shore (where theyounger sometimes bathed her feet, the elder keeping a sharp eye on landand water), the sea behaved like the wind, dodging Miss Ailie's anklesand snapping playfully at Miss Kitty's. Thus even the elements coulddistinguish between the sisters, who nevertheless had so much in commonthat at times Miss Ailie would look into her mirror and sigh to thinkthat some day Miss Kitty might be like this. How Miss Ailie adored MissKitty! She trembled with pleasure if you said Miss Kitty was pretty, andshe dreamed dreams in which she herself walked as bridesmaid only. Andjust as Miss Ailie could be romantic, Miss Kitty, the romantic, could beprim, and the primness was her own as much as the curls, but Miss Ailieusually carried it for her, like a cloak in case of rain. 

Not often have two sweeter women grown together on one stem. What werethe men of Redlintie about? The sisters never asked each other thisquestion, but there were times when, apparently without cause, MissAilie hugged Miss Kitty vehemently, as if challenging the world, andperhaps Miss Kitty understood. 

Thus a year or more passed uneventfully, until the one romance of theirlives befell them. It began with the reappearance in Redlintie ofMagerful Tarn, who had come to torment his father into giving him moremoney, but, finding he had come too late, did not harass the sisters. This is perhaps the best thing that can be told of him, and, as if heknew this, he had often told it himself to Jean Myles, without howevertelling her what followed. For something to his advantage did follow, and it was greatly to the credit of Miss Ailie and Miss Kitty, thoughthey went about it as timidly as if they were participating in a crime. Ever since they learned of the sin which had brought this man into theworld their lives had been saddened, for on the same day they realizedwhat a secret sorrow had long lain at their mother's heart. AlisonSibbald was a very simple, gracious lady, who never recovered from theshock of discovering that she had married a libertine; yet she hadpressed her husband to do something for his son, and been greatly painedwhen he refused with a coarse laugh. The daughters were very like her innature, and though the knowledge of what she had suffered increased manyfold their love for her, so that in her last days their passionatedevotion to her was the talk of Redlintie, it did not blind them to whatseemed to them to be their duty to the man. As their father's son, theyheld, he had a right to a third of the gauger's money, and to withholdit from him, now that they knew his whereabouts, would have been a formof theft. But how to give T. His third? They called him T. Fromdelicacy, and they had never spoken to him. When he passed them in thestreets, they turned pale, and, thinking of their mother, looked anotherway. But they knew he winked. 

At last, looking red in one street, and white in another, but resolutein all, they took their business to the office of Mr. John McLean, thewriter, who had once escorted Miss Kitty home from a party withoutanything coming of it, so that it was quite a psychological novel inseveral volumes. Now Mr. John happened to be away at the fishing, and areckless maid showed them into the presence of a strange man, who was noother than his brother Ivie, home for a year's holiday from India, andnaturally this extraordinary occurrence so agitated them that Miss Ailiehad told half her story before she realized that Miss Kitty was tittingat her dress. Then indeed she sought to withdraw, but Ivie, with thealarming yet not unpleasing audacity of his sex, said he had heardenough to convince him that in this matter he was qualified to take hisbrother's place. But he was not, for he announced, "My advice to you isnot to give T. A halfpenny, " which showed that he did not evenunderstand what they had come about. 

They begged permission to talk to each other behind the door, andpresently returned, troubled but brave. Miss Kitty whispered "Courage!"and this helped Miss Ailie to the deed. 

"We have quite made up our minds to let T. Have the money, " she said, "but--but the difficulty is the taking it to him. Must we take it inperson?"

"Why not?" asked Ivie, bewildered. 

"It would be such a painful meeting to us. " said Miss Ailie. 

"And to him, " added simple Miss Kitty. 

"You see we have thought it best not to--not to know him, " said MissAilie, faintly. 

"Mother--" faltered Miss Kitty, and at the word the eyes of both ladiesbegan to fill. 

Then, of course, Mr. McLean discovered the object of their visit, andpromised that his brother should take this delicate task off theirhands, and as he bowed them out he said, "Ladies, I think you are doinga very foolish thing, and I shall respect you for it all my life. " Atleast Miss Kitty insisted that respect was the word, Miss Ailie thoughthe said esteem. 

That was how it began, and it progressed for nearly a year at a ratethat will take away your breath. On the very next day he met Miss Kittyin High Street, a most awkward encounter for her ("for, you know, Ailie, we were never introduced, so how could I decide all in a moment what todo?"), and he raised his hat (the Misses Croall were at their window andsaw the whole thing). But we must gallop, like the friendship. He bowedthe first two times, the third time he shook hands (by a sort ofprovidence Miss Kitty had put on her new mittens), the fourth, fifth, and sixth times he conversed, the seventh time he--they replied thatthey really could not trouble him so much, but he said he was going thatway at any rate; the eighth time, ninth time, and tenth time the figuresof two ladies and a gentleman might have been observed, etc. , and eitherthe eleventh or twelfth time ("Fancy our not being sure, Ailie"--"It hasall come so quickly, Kitty") he took his first dish of tea at MagentaCottage. 

There were many more walks after this, often along the cliffs to alittle fishing village, over which the greatest of magicians oncestretched his wand, so that it became famous forever, as all the worldsaw except himself; and tea at the cottage followed, when Ivie askedMiss Kitty to sing "The Land o' the Leal, " and Miss Ailie sat by thewindow, taking in her merino, that it might fit Miss Kitty, cutting hersable muff (once Alison Sibbald's) into wristbands for Miss Kitty'sastrakhan; they did not go quite all the way round, but men are blind. 

Ivie was not altogether blind. The sisters, it is to be feared, calledhim the dashing McLean, but he was at this time nearly forty years old, an age when bachelors like to take a long rest from thinking ofmatrimony, before beginning again. Fifteen years earlier he had been inlove, but the girl had not cared to wait for him, and, though in Indiahe had often pictured himself returning to Redlintie to gaze wistfullyat her old home, when he did come back he never went, because the housewas a little out of the way. But unknown to him two ladies went, to whomhe had told this as a rather dreary joke. They were ladies he esteemedvery much, though having a sense of humor he sometimes chuckled on hisway home from Magenta Cottage, and he thought out many ways of addinglittle pleasures to their lives. It was like him to ask Miss Kitty tosing and play, though he disliked music. He understood that it is a hardworld for single women, and knew himself for a very ordinary sort ofman. If it ever crossed his head that Miss Kitty would be willing tomarry him, he felt genuinely sorry at the same time that she had notdone better long ago. He never flattered himself that he could beaccepted now, save for the good home he could provide (he was not theman to blame women for being influenced by that), for like most of hissex he was unaware that a woman is never too old to love or to be loved;if they do know it, the mean ones among them make a jest of it, at which(God knows why) their wives laugh. Mr. McLean had been acquainted withthe sisters for months before he was sure even that Miss Kitty was hisfavorite. He found that out one evening when sitting with an old friend, whose wife and children were in the room, gathered round a lamp andplaying at some child's game. Suddenly Ivie McLean envied his friend, and at the same moment he thought tenderly of Miss Kitty. But thefeeling passed. He experienced it next and as suddenly when arriving atBombay, where some women were waiting to greet their husbands. 

Before he went away the two gentlewomen knew that he was not to speak. They did not tell each other what was in their minds. Miss Kitty was sobright during those last days, that she must have deceived anyone whodid not love her, and Miss Ailie held her mouth very tight, and ifpossible was straighter than ever, but oh, how gentle she was with MissKitty! Ivie's last two weeks in the old country were spent in London, and during that time Miss Kitty liked to go away by herself, and sit ona rock and gaze at the sea. Once Miss Ailie followed her and would havecalled him a--

"Don't, Ailie!" said Miss Kitty, imploringly. But that night, when MissKitty was brushing her hair, she said, courageously, "Ailie, I don'tthink I should wear curls any longer. You know I--I shall bethirty-seven in August. " And after the elder sister had become calmagain. Miss Kitty said timidly, "You don't think I have been unladylike, do you, Ailie?"

Such a trifle now remains to tell. Miss Kitty was the better businesswoman of the two, and kept the accounts, and understood, as Miss Ailiecould not understand, how their little income was invested, and evenknew what consols were, though never quite certain whether it was theirfall or rise that is matter for congratulation. And after the ship hadsailed, she told Miss Ailie that nearly all their money was lost, andthat she had known it for a month. 

"And you kept it from me! Why?"

"I thought, Ailie, that you, knowing I am not strong--that you--wouldperhaps tell him. "

"And I would!" cried Miss Ailie. 

"And then, " said Miss Kitty, "perhaps he, out of pity, you know!"

"Well, even if he had!" said Miss Ailie. 

"I could not, oh, I could not, " replied Miss Kitty, flushing; "it--itwould not have been ladylike, Ailie. "

Thus forced to support themselves, the sisters decided to keep schoolgenteelly, and, hearing that there was an opening in Thrums, theysettled there, and Miss Kitty brushed her hair out now, and with a twistand a twirl ran it up her fingers into a net, whence by noon some of ithad escaped through the little windows and was curls again. She and MissAilie were happy in Thrums, for time took the pain out of the affair ofMr. McLean, until it became not merely a romantic memory, but, with theletters he wrote to Miss Kitty and her answers, the great quiet pleasureof their lives. They were friendly letters only, but Miss Kitty wrotehers out in pencil first and read them to Miss Ailie, who had beentaking notes for them. 

In the last weeks of Miss Kitty's life Miss Ailie conceived a passionateunspoken hatred of Mr. McLean, and her intention was to write and tellhim that he had killed her darling. But owing to the illness into whichshe was flung by Miss Kitty's death, that unjust letter was neverwritten. 

But why did Mr. McLean continue to write to Miss Kitty?

Well, have pity or be merciless as you choose. For several years Mr. McLean's letters had been the one thing the sisters looked forward to, and now, when Miss Ailie was without Miss Kitty, must she lose themalso? She never doubted, though she may have been wrong, that, if Ivieknew of Miss Kitty's death, one letter would come in answer, and thatthe last. She could not tell him. In the meantime he wrote twice askingthe reason of this long silence, and at last Miss Ailie, whosehandwriting was very like her sister's, wrote him a letter which wasposted at Tilliedrum and signed "Katherine Cray. " The thing seemsmonstrous, but this gentle lady did it, and it was never so difficult todo again. Latterly, it had been easy. 

This last letter of Mr. McLean's announced to Miss Kitty that he wasabout to start for home "for good, " and he spoke in it of coming toThrums to see the sisters, as soon as he reached Redlintie. Poor MissAilie! After sleepless nights she trudged to the Tilliedrum post-officewith a full confession of her crime, which would be her welcome home tohim when he arrived at his brother's house. Many of the words werewritten on damp blobs. After that she could do nothing but wait for thestorm, and waiting she became so meek, that Gavinia, who loved herbecause she was "that simple, " said sorrowfully:

"How is't you never rage at me now, ma'am? I'm sure it keepit youlightsome, and I likit to hear the bum o't. "

"And instead o' the raging I was prigging for, " the soft-hearted maidtold her friends, "she gave me a flannel petticoat!" Indeed, Miss Ailiehad taken to giving away her possessions at this time, like a woman whothought she was on her death-bed. There was something for each of herpupils, including--but the important thing is that there was a gift forTommy, which had the effect of planting the Hanoverian Woman (to whom hemust have given many uneasy moments) more securely on the BritishThrone. 

CHAPTER XXV

A PENNY PASS-BOOK

Elspeth conveyed the gift to Tommy in a brown paper wrapping, and whenit lay revealed as an aging volume of _Mamma's Boy_, a magazine for theHome, nothing could have looked more harmless. But, ah, you never know. Hungrily Tommy ran his eye through the bill of fare for something choiceto begin with, and he found it. "The Boy Pirate" it was called. Nevercould have been fairer promise, and down he sat confidently. 

It was a paper on the boys who have been undone by reading perniciousfiction. It gave their names, and the number of pistols they had bought, and what the judge said when he pronounced sentence. It counted thesensational tales found beneath the bed, and described the desolation ofthe mothers and sisters. It told the color of the father's hair beforeand afterwards. 

Tommy flung the thing from him, picked it up again, and read onuneasily, and when at last he rose he was shrinking from himself. Inhopes that he might sleep it off he went early to bed, but hiscontrition was still with him in the morning. Then Elspeth was shown thearticle which had saved him, and she, too, shuddered at what she hadbeen, though her remorse was but a poor display beside his, he was somuch better at everything than Elspeth. Tommy's distress of mind was sogenuine and so keen that it had several hours' start of his admirationof it; and it was still sincere, though he himself had become gloomy, when he told his followers that they were no more. Grizel heard his talewith disdain, and said she hated Miss Ailie for giving him the sillybook, but he reproved these unchristian sentiments, while admitting thatMiss Ailie had played on him a scurvy trick. 

"But you're glad you've repented, Tommy, " Elspeth reminded him, anxiously. 

"Ay, I'm glad, " he answered, without heartiness. 

"Well, gin you repent I'll repent too, " said Corp, always ready toaccept Tommy without question. 

"You'll be happier, " replied Tommy, sourly. 

"Ay, to be good's the great thing, " Corp growled; "but, Tommy, could weno have just one michty blatter, methinks, to end up wi'?"

This, of course, could not be, and Saturday forenoon found Tommywandering the streets listlessly, very happy, you know, but inclined tokick at any one who came near, such, for instance, as the stranger whoasked him in the square if he could point out the abode of Miss AilieCray. 

Tommy led the way, casting some converted looks at the gentleman, andjudging him to be the mysterious unknown in whom the late Captain Strokehad taken such a reprehensible interest. He was a stout, red-faced man, stepping firmly into the fifties, with a beard that even the mostconverted must envy, and a frown sat on his brows all the way, provinghim possibly ill-tempered, but also one of the notable few who can thinkhard about one thing for at least five consecutive minutes. Many took aglint at him as he passed, but missed the frown, they were wondering somuch why the fur of his heavy top-coat was on the inside, where it madelittle show, save at blasty corners. 

Miss Ailie was in her parlor, trying to give her mind to a blue andwhite note-book, but when she saw who was coming up the garden shedropped the little volume and tottered to her bedroom. She was therewhen Gavinia came up to announce that she had shown a gentleman into theblue-and-white room, who gave the name of Ivie McLean. "Tell him--Ishall come down--presently, " gasped Miss Ailie, and then Gavinia wassure this was the man who was making her mistress so unhappy. 

"She's so easily flichtered now, " Gavinia told Tommy in the kitchen, "that for fear o' starting her I never whistle at my work withouttelling her I'm to do't, and if I fall on the stair, my first thought isto jump up and cry, 'It was just me tum'ling. ' And now I believe thisbrute'll be the death o' her. "

"But what can he do to her?"

"I dinna ken, but she's greeting sair, and yon can hear how he'srampaging up and down the blue-and-white room. Listen to his thrawnfeet! He's raging because she's so long in coming down, and come shedaurna. Oh, the poor crittur!"

Now, Tommy was very fond of his old school-mistress, and he began to beunhappy with Gavinia. 

"She hasna a man-body in the world to take care o' her, " sobbed thegirl. 

"Has she no?" cried Tommy, fiercely, and under one of the impulses thatso easily mastered him he marched into the blue-and-white room. 

"Well, my young friend, and what may you want?" asked Mr. McLean, impatiently. 

Tommy sat down and folded his arms. "I'm going to sit here and see whatyou do to Miss Ailie, " he said, determinedly. 

Mr. McLean said "Oh!" and then seemed favorably impressed, for he addedquietly: "She is a friend of yours, is she? Well, I have no intention ofhurting her. "

"You had better no, " replied Tommy, stoutly. 

"Did she send you here?"

"No; I came mysel'. "

"To protect her?"

There was the irony in it that so puts up a boy's dander. "Dinna think, "said Tommy, hotly, "that I'm fleid at you, though I have no beard--atleast, I hinna it wi' me. "

At this unexpected conclusion a smile crossed Mr. McLean's face, but wasgone in an instant. "I wish you had laughed, " said Tommy, on the watch;"once a body laughs he canna be angry no more, " which was pretty goodeven for Tommy. It made Mr. McLean ask him why he was so fond of MissAilie. 

"I'm the only man-body she has, " he answered. 

"Oh? But why are you her man-body?"

The boy could think of no better reason than this: "Because--becauseshe's so sair in need o' are. " (There were moments when one likedTommy. )

Mr. McLean turned to the window, and perhaps forgot that he was notalone. "Well, what are you thinking about so deeply?" he asked by andby. 

"I was trying to think o' something that would gar you laugh, " answeredTommy, very earnestly, and was surprised to see that he had nearly doneit. 

The blue and white note-book was lying on the floor where Miss Ailie haddropped it. Often in Tommy's presence she had consulted this work, andcertainly its effect on her was the reverse of laughter; but once he hadseen Dr. McQueen pick it up and roar over every page. With aninspiration Tommy handed the book to Mr. McLean. "It made the doctorlaugh, " he said persuasively. 

"Go away, " said Ivie, impatiently; "I am in no mood for laughing. "

"I tell you what, " answered Tommy, "I'll go, if you promise to look atit, " and to be rid of him the man agreed. For the next quarter of anhour Tommy and Gavinia were very near the door of the blue-and-whiteroom, Tommy whispering dejectedly, "I hear no laughing, " and Gaviniareplying, "But he has quieted down. "

Mr. McLean had a right to be very angry, but God only can say whether hehad a right to be as angry as he was. The book had been handed to himopen, and he was laying it down unread when a word underlined caught hiseye. It was his own name. Nothing in all literature arrests ourattention quite so much as that. He sat down to the book. It was justabout this time that Miss Ailie went on her knees to pray. 

It was only a penny pass-book. On its blue cover had been pasted a slipof white paper, and on the paper was written, in blue ink, "AlisonCray, " with a date nearly nine years old. The contents were in MissAilie's prim handwriting; jottings for her own use begun about the timewhen the sisters, trembling at their audacity, had opened school, andconsulted and added to fitfully ever since. Hours must have been spentin erasing the blots and other blemishes so carefully. The tiny volumewas not yet full, and between its two last written pages lay a piece ofblue blotting-paper neatly cut to the size of the leaf. 

Some of these notes were transcripts from books, some contained theadvice of friends, others were doubtless the result of talks with MissKitty (from whom there were signs that the work had been kept a secret), many were Miss Ailie's own. An entry of this kind was frequent: "If youare uncertain of the answer to a question in arithmetic, it is advisableto leave the room on some pretext and work out the sum swiftly in thepassage. " Various pretexts were suggested, and this one (which had aninsufficient line through it) had been inserted by Dr. McQueen on thatday when Tommy saw him chuckling, "You pretend that your nose isbleeding and putting your handkerchief to it, retire hastily, thesupposition being that you have gone to put the key of theblue-and-white room down your back. " Evidently these small deceptionstroubled Miss Ailie, for she had written, "Such subterfuge is, I hope, pardonable, the object being the maintenance of scholastic discipline. "On another page, where the arithmetic was again troubling her, thisappeared: "If Kitty were aware that the squealing of the slate-pencilsgave me such headaches, she would insist on again taking the arithmeticclass, though it always makes her ill. Surely, then, I am justified insaying that the sound does not distress me. " To this the doctor hadadded, "You are a brick. "

There were two pages headed NEVER, which mentioned ten things that MissAilie must never do; among them, "_Never_ let the big boys know you areafraid of them. To awe them, stamp with the foot, speak in a loudferocious voice, and look them unflinchingly in the face. "

"Punishments" was another heading, but she had written it small, as ifto prevent herself seeing it each time she opened the book. Obviouslyher hope had been to dispose of Punishment in a few lines, but it wouldhave none of that, and Mr. McLean found it stalking from page to page. Miss Ailie favored the cane in preference to tawse, which, "often flapround your neck as yon are about to bring them down. " Except indesperate cases "it will probably be found sufficient to order theoffender to bring the cane to you. " Then followed a note about rubbingthe culprit's hand "with sweet butter or dripping" should you havestruck too hard. 

Dispiriting item, that on resuming his seat the chastised one is a heroto his fellows for the rest of the day. Item, that Master John JamesRattray knows she hurts her own hand more than his. Item, that JohnJames promised to be good throughout the session if she would let himthrash the bad ones. Item, that Master T. Sandys, himself undercorrection, explained to her (the artistic instinct again) how to givethe cane a waggle when descending, which would double its nip. Item, that Elsie Dundas offered to receive Francie Crabb's punishment for twosnaps. Item, that Master Gavin Dishart, for what he considered the honorof his school, though aware he was imperilling his soul, fought HendryDickie of Cathro's for saying Miss Ailie could not draw blood with onestroke. 

The effect on Miss Ailie of these mortifying discoveries could be readin the paragraph headed A MOTHER'S METHOD, which was copied from anewspaper. Mrs. E----, it seems, was the mother of four boys (residingat D----), and she subjected them frequently to corporal chastisementwithout permanent spiritual result. Mrs. E----, by the advice of anotherlady, Mrs. K---- (mother of six), then had recourse to the followinginteresting experiment. Instead of punishing her children physicallywhen they misbehaved, she now in their presence wounded herself bystriking her left hand severely with a ruler held in the right. Soontheir better natures were touched, and the four implored her to desist, promising with tears never to offend again. From that hour Mrs. E---- had little trouble with her boys. 

It was recorded in the blue and white book how Miss Ailie gave this plana fair trial, but her boys must have been darker characters than Mrs. E----'s, for it merely set them to watching each other, so that theymight cry out, "Pandy yourself quick, Miss Ailie; Gavin Dishart'sdrawing the devil on his slate. " Nevertheless, when Miss Ailie announceda return to more conventional methods, Francie was put up (with threats)to say that he suffered agonies of remorse every time she pandiedherself for him, but the thing had been organized in a hurry and Franciewas insufficiently primed, and on cross-examination he let out that hethought remorse was a swelling of the hands. 

Miss Ailie was very humble-minded, and her entries under THE TEACHERTAUGHT were all admonitions for herself. Thus she chided herself forcowardice because "Delicate private reasons have made me avoid allmention of India in the geography classes. Kitty says quite calmlythat this is fair neither to our pupils nor to I---- M----. Thecourage of Kitty in this matter is a constant rebuke to me. " Excepton a few occasions Mr. McLean found that he was always referred to asI---- M----. 

Quite early in the volume Miss Ailie knew that her sister's hold on lifewas loosening. "How bright the world suddenly seems, " Mr. McLean read, "when there is the tiniest improvement in the health of an invalid oneloves. " Is it laughable that such a note as this is appended to a recipefor beef-tea? "It is surely not very wicked to pretend to Kitty that Ikeep some of it for myself; she would not take it all if she knew Idined on the beef it was made from. " Other entries showed too plainlythat Miss Ailie stinted herself of food to provide delicacies for MissKitty. No doubt her expenses were alarming her when she wrote this: "Aninteresting article in the _Mentor_ says that nearly all of us eat anddrink too much. Were we to mortify our stomachs we should be healthieranimals and more capable of sustained thought. The word animal in thisconnection is coarse, but the article is most impressive, and acrushing reply to Dr. McQueen's assertion that the editor drinks. In theschool-room I have frequently found my thoughts of late wandering fromclasswork, and I hastily ascribed it to sitting up during the night withKitty or to my habit of listening lest she should be calling for me. Probably I had over-eaten, and I must mortify the stomach. A glass ofhot water with half a spoonful of sugar in it is highly recommended as alight supper. "

"How long ago it may seem since yesterday!" Do you need to be told onwhat dark day Miss Ailie discovered that? "I used to pray that I shouldbe taken first, but I was both impious and selfish, for how couldfragile Kitty have fought on alone?"

In time happiness again returned to Miss Ailie; of all our friends it isthe one most reluctant to leave us on this side of the grave. It came atfirst disguised, in the form of duties, old and new; and stealthily, when Miss Ailie was not looking, it mixed with the small worries andjoys that had been events while Miss Kitty lived, and these it convertedonce more into events, where Miss Ailie found it lurking, and at firstshe would not take it back to her heart, but it crept in without herknowing. And still there were I---- M----'s letters. "They are all Ihave to look forward to, " she wrote in self-defence. "I shall neverwrite to I---- M---- again, " was another entry, but Mr. McLean found onthe same page, "I have written to I---- M----, but do not intendposting it, " and beneath that was, "God forgive me, I have posted it. "

The troubles with arithmetic were becoming more terrible. "I am never_really_ sure about the decimals, " she wrote. 

A Professor of Memory had appeared at the Muckley, and Miss Ailie admitshaving given him half-a-crown to explain his system to her. But when hewas gone she could not remember whether you multiplied everything by tenbefore dividing by five and subtracting a hundred, or began by dividingand doing something underhand with the cube root. Then Mr. Dishart, whohad a microscope, wanted his boy to be taught science, and severalexperiments were described at length in the book, one of them dealingwith a penny, _H_, and a piston, _X Y_, and you do things to the piston"and then the penny comes to the surface. " "But it never does, " MissAilie wrote sorrowfully; perhaps she was glad when Master Dishart wassent to another school. 

"Though I teach the girls the pianoforte I find that I cannot stretch myfingers as I used to do. Kitty used to take the music, and I oftenremember this suddenly when superintending a lesson. It is a pain to methat so many wish to acquire 'The Land o' the Leal, ' which Kitty sang sooften to I---- M---- at Magenta Cottage. "

Even the French, of which Miss Ailie had once been very proud, wasslipping from her. "Kitty and I kept up our French by translatingI---- M----'s letters and comparing our versions, but now that thisstimulus is taken away I find that I am forgetting my French. Or is itonly that I am growing old? too old to keep school?" This dread wasbeginning to haunt Miss Ailie, and the pages between which theblotting-paper lay revealed that she had written to the editor of the_Mentor_ asking up to what age he thought a needy gentlewoman had aright to teach. The answer was not given, but her comment on it toldeverything. "I asked him to be severely truthful, so that I cannotresent his reply. But if I take his advice, how am I to live? And ifI do not take it, I fear I am but a stumbling-block in the way of trueeducation. "

That is a summary of what Mr. McLean read in the blue and white book;remember, you were warned not to expect much. And Tommy and Gavinialistened, and Tommy said, "I hear no laughing, " and Gavinia answered, "But he has quieted down, " and upstairs Miss Ailie was on her knees. Atime came when Mr. McLean could find something to laugh at in thatlittle pass-book, but it was not then, not even when he reached the end. He left something on the last page instead. At least I think it musthave been he: Miss Ailie's tears could not have been so long a-drying. 

You may rise, now, Miss Ailie; your prayer is granted. 

CHAPTER XXVI

TOMMY REPENTS, AND IS NONE THE WORSE FOR IT

Mr. McLean wrote a few reassuring words to Miss Ailie, and having toldGavinia to give the note to her walked quietly out of the house; he wascoming back after he had visited Miss Kitty's grave. Gavinia, however, did not knew this, and having delivered the note she returned dolefullyto the kitchen to say to Tommy, "His letter maun have been as thraun ashimsel', for as soon as she read it, down she plumped on her kneesagain. "

But Tommy was not in the kitchen; he was on the garden-wall watchingMiss Ailie's persecutor. 

"Would it no be easier to watch him frae the gate?" suggested Gavinia, who had not the true detective instinct. 

Tommy disregarded her womanlike question; a great change had come overhim since she went upstairs; his bead now wobbled on his shoulders likea little balloon that wanted to cut its connection with earth and soar. 

"What makes you look so queer?" cried the startled maid. "I thought youwas converted. "

"So I am, " he shouted, "I'm more converted than ever, and yet I can doit just the same! Gavinia, I've found a wy!"

He was hurrying off on Mr. McLean's trail, but turned to say, "Gavinia, do you ken wha that man is?"

"Ower weel I ken, " she answered, "it's Mr. McLean. "

"McLean!" he echoed scornfully, "ay, I've heard that's one of the nameshe goes by, but hearken, and I'll tell you wha he really is. That's thescoundrel Stroke!"

No wonder Gavinia was flabbergasted. "Wha are you then?" she cried. 

"I'm the Champion of Dames, " he replied loftily, and before she hadrecovered from this he was stalking Mr. McLean in the cemetery. 

Miss Kitty sleeps in a beautiful hollow called the Basin, but the stoneput up to her memory hardly marks the spot now, for with a score ofothers it was blown on its face by the wind that uprooted so many treesin the Den, and as it fell it lies. From the Basin to the rough roadthat clings like a belt to the round cemetery dyke is little more than ajump, and shortly after Miss Kitty's grave had been pointed out to him. Mr. McLean was seen standing there hat in hand by a man on the road. This man was Dr. McQueen hobbling home from the Forest Muir; he did nothobble as a rule, but hobble everyone must on that misshapen brae, except Murdoch Gelatley, who, being short in one leg elsewhere, is herethe only straight man. McQueen's sharp eyes, however, picked out notonly the stranger but Tommy crouching behind Haggart's stone, and himdid the doctor's famous crook staff catch in the neck and whisk acrossthe dyke. 

"What man is that you're watching, you mysterious loon?" McQueendemanded, curiously; but of course Tommy would not divulge so big asecret. Now the one weakness of this large-hearted old bachelor (perhapsit is a professional virtue) was a devouring inquisitiveness, and hewould be troubled until he discovered who was the stranger standing insuch obvious emotion by the side of an old grave. "Well, you must comeback with me to the surgery, for I want you to run an errand for me, " hesaid testily, hoping to pump the boy by the way, but Tommy dived beneathhis stick and escaped. This rasped the doctor's temper, which wasunfortunate for Grizel, whom he caught presently peeping in at hissurgery window. A dozen times of late she had wondered whether sheshould ask him to visit her mamma, and though the Painted Lady hadscreamed in terror at the proposal, being afraid of doctors, Grizelwould have ventured ere now, had it not been for her mistaken convictionthat he was a hard man, who would only flout her. It had once come toher ears that he had said a woman like her mamma could demoralize awhole town, with other harsh remarks, doubtless exaggerated in therepetition, and so he was the last man she dared think of going to forhelp, when he should have been the first. Nevertheless she had come now, and a soft word from him, such as he gave most readily to all who werein distress, would have drawn her pitiful tale from her, but he was in agrumpy mood, and had heard none of the rumors about her mother's beingill, which indeed were only common among the Monypenny children, and hisfirst words checked her confidences. "What are you hanging about my openwindow for?" he cried sharply. 

"Did you think I wanted to steal anything?" replied the indignant child. 

"I won't say but what I had some such thait. "

She turned to leave him, but he hooked her with his staff. "As you'rehere, " he said, "will you go an errand for me?"

"No, " she told him promptly; "I don't like you. "

"There's no love lost between us, " he replied, "for I think you're thedourest lassie I ever clapped eyes on, but there's no other litlinhandy, so you must do as you are bid, and take this bottle toBallingall's. "

"Is it a medicine bottle?" she asked, with sudden interest. 

"Yes, it's medicine. Do you know Ballingall's house in the West townend?"

"Ballingall who has the little school?"

"The same, but I doubt he'll keep school no longer. "

"Is he dying?"

"I'm afraid there's no doubt of it. Will you go?"

"I should love to go, " she cried. 

"Love!" he echoed, looking at her with displeasure. "You can't love togo, so talk no more nonsense, but go, and I'll give you a bawbee. "

"I don't want a bawbee, " she said. "Do you think they will let me go into see Ballingall?"

The doctor frowned. "What makes you want to see a dying man?" hedemanded. 

"I should just love to see him!" she exclaimed, and she addeddeterminedly, "I won't give up the bottle until they let me in. "

He thought her an unpleasant, morbid girl, but "that is no affair ofmine, " he said shrugging his shoulders, and he gave her the bottle todeliver. Before taking it to Ballingall's, however, she committed alittle crime. She bought an empty bottle at the 'Sosh, and poured intoit some of the contents of the medicine bottle, which she then filled upwith water. She dared try no other way now of getting medicine for hermother, and was too ignorant to know that there are different drugs fordifferent ailments. 

Grizel not only contrived to get in to see Ballingan but stayed by hisside for several hours, and when she came out it was night-time. On herway home she saw a light moving in the Den, where she had expected toplay no more, and she could not prevent her legs from running joyouslytoward it. So when Corp, rising out of the darkness, deftly cut herthroat, she was not so angry as she should have been. 

"I'm so glad we are to play again, after all, Corp, " she said; but hereplied grandly, "Thou little kennest wha you're speaking to, my gentlejade. "

He gave a curious hitch to his breeches, but it only puzzled her. "Iwear gallowses no more, " he explained, lifting his waistcoat to showthat his braces now encircled him as a belt, but even then she did notunderstand. "Know, then, " said Corp, sternly, "I am Ben the Boatswain. "

"And am I not the Lady Griselda any more?" she asked. 

"I'm no sure, " he confessed; "but if you are, there's a price on yourhead. "

"What is Tommy?"

"I dinna ken yet, but Gavinia says he telled her he's Champion of Damns. I kenna what Elspeth'll say to that. "

Grizel was starting for the Lair, but he caught her by the skirt. 

"Is he not at the Lair?" she inquired. 

"We knowest it not, " he answered gravely. "We're looking for't, " headded with some awe; "we've been looking for't this three year. " Then, in a louder voice, "If you can guide us to it, my pretty trifle, you'llbe richly rewarded. "

"But where is he? Don't you know?"

"Fine I knowest, but it wouldna be mous to tell you, for I kenna whetheryou be friend or foe. What's that you're carrying?"

"It is a--a medicine bottle. "

"Gie me a sook!"

"No. "

"Just one, " begged Corp, "and I'll tell you where he is. "

He got his way, and smacked his lips unctuously. 

"Now, where is Tommy?"

"Put your face close to mine, " said Corp, and then he whisperedhoarsely, "He's in a spleet new Lair, writing out bills wi' a' hismight, offering five hunder crowns reward for Stroke's head, dead oralive!"

 * * * * *

The new haunt was a deserted house, that stood, very damp, near a littlewaterfall to the east of the Den. Bits of it well planted in the marshadhere doggedly together to this day, but even then the roof was off andthe chimney lay in a heap on the ground, like blankets that have slippedoff a bed. 

This was the good ship Ailie, lying at anchor, man-of-war, thirty guns, a cart-wheel to steer it by, T. Sandys, commander. 

On the following Saturday, Ben the Boatswain piped all hands, and Mr. Sandys delivered a speech, of the bluff, straightforward kind thatsailors love. Here, unfortunately, it must be condensed. He remindedthem that three years had passed since their gracious queen (cheers)sent them into these seas to hunt down the Pretender (hisses). Theirship had been christened the Ailie, because its object was to avenge theinsults offered by the Pretender to a lady of that name for whomeveryone of them would willingly die. Like all his race the Pretender, or Stroke, as he called himself, was a torment to single women; he hadnot only stolen all this lady's wealth, but now he wanted to make herwalk the plank, a way of getting rid of enemies the mere mention ofwhich set the blood of all honest men boiling (cheers). As yet they hadnot succeeded in finding Stroke's Lair, though they knew it to be in oneof the adjoining islands, but they had suffered many privations, twicetheir gallant vessel had been burned to the water's edge, once she hadbeen sunk, once blown into the air, but had that dismayed them?

Here the Boatswain sent round a whisper, and they all cried loyally, "Ay, ay, sir. "

He had now news for them that would warm their hearts like grog. He hadnot discovered the Lair, but he had seen Stroke, he had spoken to him!Disguised as a boy he had tracked the Jacobite and found him skulking inthe house of the unhappy Ailie. After blustering for a little Stroke hadgone on his knees and offered not only to cease persecuting this ladybut to return to France. Mr. Sandys had kicked him into a standingposture and then left him. But this clemency had been ill repaid. Strokehad not returned to France. He was staying at the Quharity Arms, aThrums inn, where he called himself McLean. It had gone through the townlike wildfire that he had written to someone in Redlintie to send him onanother suit of clothes and four dickies. No one suspected his realcharacter, but all noted that he went to the unhappy Ailie's housedaily, and there was a town about it. Ailie was but a woman, and womencould not defend themselves "(Boatswain, put Grizel in irons if sheopens her mouth), " and so the poor thing had been forced to speak tohim, and even to go walks with him. Her life was in danger, and beforenow Mr. Sandys would have taken him prisoner, but the queen had saidthese words, "Noble Sandys, destroy the Lair, " and the best way todiscover this horrid spot was to follow Stroke night and day until hewent to it. Then they would burn it to the ground, put him on board theAilie, up with the jib-boom sail, and away to the Tower of London. 

At the words "Tower of London, " Ben cried "Tumble up there!" which wasthe signal for three such ringing cheers as only British tars arecapable of. Three? To be exact only two and a half, for the thirdstopped in the middle, as if the lid had suddenly been put on. 

What so startled them was the unexpected appearance in their midst ofthe very man Tommy had been talking of. Taking a stroll through the Den, Mr. McLean had been drawn toward the ruin by the first cheers, and hadarrived in time to learn who and what he really was. 

"Stroke!" gasped one small voice. 

The presumptuous man folded his arms. "So, Sandys, " he said, in hollowtones, "we meet again!"

Even Grizel got behind Tommy, and perhaps it was this that gave himspunk to say tremulously, "Wh-what are you doing her?"

"I have come, " replied the ruddy Pretender, "to defy you, ay, proudSandys, to challenge thee to the deed thou pratest of. I go from here tomy Lair. Follow me, if thou darest!"

He brought his hand down with a bang upon the barrel, laugheddisdainfully, and springing over the vessel's side was at once lost inthe darkness. Instead of following, all stood transfixed, gazing at thebarrel, on which lay five shillings. 

"He put them there when he slammed it!"

"Losh behears! there's a shilling to ilka ane o' us. "

"I winna touch the siller, " said Sandys, moodily. 

"What?" cried Gavinia. 

"I tell you it's a bribe. "

"Do you hear him?" screamed Gavinia. "He says we're no to lay handson't! Corp, where's your tongue?"

But even in that trying moment Corp's trust in Tommy shone outbeautiful and strong. "Dinna be feared, Gavinia, " he whispered, "he'llfind a wy. "

"Lights out and follow Stroke!" was the order, and the crew at oncescattered in pursuit, Mr. Sandys remaining behind a moment to--to putsomething in his pocket. 

Mr. McLean gave them a long chase, walking demurely when lovers were insight, but at other times doubling, jumping, even standing on eminencesand crowing insultingly, like a cock, and not until he had only breathleft to chuckle did the stout man vanish from the Den. Elspeth, now acabin-boy, was so shaken by the realism of the night's adventures thatGavinia (able seaman) took her home, and when Mr. Sandys and hisBoatswain met at the Cuttle Well neither could tell where Grizel was. 

"She had no business to munt without my leave, " Tommy said sulkily. 

"No, she hadna. Is she the Lady Griselda yet?"

"Not her, she's the Commander's wife. "

Ben shook his head, for this, he felt, was the one thing Tommy could notdo. "Well, then, " growled Tommy, "if she winna be that, she'll have toserve before the mast, for I tell you plain I'll have no single women onboard. "

"And what am I, forby Ben the Boatswain?"

"Nothing. Honest men has just one name. "

"What! I'm just one single man?" Corp was a little crestfallen. "It's acome down, " he said, with a sigh, "mind, I dinna grumble, but it's acome down. "

"And you dinna have 'Methinks' now either, " Tommy announced pitilessly. 

Corp had dreaded this. "I'll be gey an' lonely without it, " he said, with some dignity, "and it was the usefulest swear I kent o'. 'Methinks!' I used to roar at Mason Malcolm's collie, and the critturcame in ahint in a swite o' fear. Losh, Tommy, is that you blooding?"

There was indeed an ugly gash on Tommy's hand. "You've been hacking atyoursel' again, " said the distressed Corp, who knew that in hisenthusiasm Tommy had more than once drawn blood from himself. "When youtake it a' so real as that, " he said, uncomfortably "I near think weshould give it up. "

Tommy stamped his foot. "Take tent o' yoursel'!" he cried threateningly. "When I was tracking Stroke I fell in with one of his men, and we had atussle. He pinked me in the hand, but 'tis only a scratch, bah! He wascarrying treasure, and I took it from him. "

Ben whistled. "Five shillings?" he asked, slapping his knee. 

"How did you know?" demanded Tommy, frowning, and then they tried tostare each other down. 

"I thought I saw you pouching it, " Corp ventured to say. 

"Boatswain!"

"I mean, " explained Corp hurriedly, "I mean that I kent you would find awy. Didest thou kill the Jacobite rebel?"

"He lies but a few paces off, " replied Tommy, "and already the vulturesare picking his bones. "

"So perish all Victoria's enemies, " said Ben the Boatswain, loyally, buta sudden fear made him add, with a complete change of voice, "You dinnachance to ken his name?"

"Ay, I had marked him before, " answered Tommy, "he was called Corp ofCorp. "

Ben the Boatswain rose, sat down, rose again, "Tommy, " he said, wipinghis brow with his sleeve, "come awa' hame!"

CHAPTER XXVII

THE LONGER CATECHISM

In the meantime Mr. McLean was walking slowly to the Quharity Arms, fanning his face with his hat, and in the West town end he came uponsome boys who had gathered with offensive cries round a girl in a lustrejacket. A wave of his stick put them to flight, but the girl onlythanked him with a look, and entered a little house the window of whichshowed a brighter light than its neighbors. Dr. McQueen came out of thishouse a moment afterwards, and as the two men now knew each otherslightly, they walked home together, McLean relating humorously how hehad spent the evening. "And though Commander Sandys means to incarcerateme in the Tower of London, " he said, "he did me a good service the otherday, and I feel an interest in him. "

"What did the inventive sacket do?" the doctor asked inquisitively; butMcLean, who had referred to the incident of the pass-book, affected notto hear. "Miss Ailie has told me his history, " he said, "and that hegoes to the University next year. "

"Or to the herding, " put in McQueen, dryly. 

"Yes, I heard that was the alternative, but he should easily carry abursary; he is a remarkable boy. "

"Ay, but I'm no sure that it's the remarkable boys who carry thebursaries. However, if you have taken a fancy to him you should hearwhat Mr. Cathro has to say on the subject; for my own part I have beenmore taken up with one of his band lately than with himself--a lassie, too. "

"She who went into that house just before you came out?"

"The same, and she is the most puzzling bit of womankind I ever fell inwith. "

"She looked an ordinary girl enough, " said Mr. McLean. 

The doctor chuckled. "Man, " he said, "in my time I have met all kinds ofwomen except ordinary ones. What would you think if I told you that thisordinary girl had been spending three or four hours daily in that houseentirely because there was a man dying in it?"

"Some one she had an affection for?"

"My certie, no! I'm afraid it is long since anybody had an affection forshilpit, hirpling, old Ballingall, and as for this lassie Grizel, shehad never spoken to him until I sent her on an errand to his house aweek ago. He was a single man (like you and me), without womenfolk, aschool-master of his own making, and in the smallest way, and his oneattraction to her was that he was on his death-bed. Most lassies of herage skirl to get away from the presence of death, but she prigged, sir, fairly prigged, to get into it!"

"Ah, I prefer less uncommon girls, " McLean said. "They should not havelet her have her wish; it can only do her harm. "

"That is another curious thing, " replied the doctor. "It does not seemto have done her harm; rather it has turned her from being a dour, silent crittur into a talkative one, and that, I take it, is a sign ofgrace. "

He sighed, and added: "Not that I can get her to talk of herself and hermother. (There is a mystery about them, you understand. ) No, theobstinate brat will tell me nothing on that subject; instead ofanswering my questions she asks questions of me--an endless rush ofquestions, and all about Ballingall. How did I know he was dying? Whenyou put your fingers on their wrist, what is it you count? which is theplace where the lungs are? when you tap their chest what do you listenfor? are they not dying as long as they can rise now and then, and dressand go out? when they are really dying do they always know itthemselves? If they don't know it, is that a sign that they are not soill as you think them? When they don't know they are dying, is it bestto keep it from them in case they should scream with terror? and so onin a spate of questions, till I called her the Longer Catechism. "

"And only morbid curiosity prompted her?"

"Nothing else, " said the confident doctor; "if there had been anythingelse I should have found it out, you may be sure. However, unhealthilyminded though she be, the women who took their turn at Ballingall'sbedside were glad of her help. "

"The more shame to them, " McLean remarked warmly; but the doctor wouldlet no one, save himself, miscall the women of Thrums. 

"Ca' canny, " he retorted. "The women of this place are as overdriven asthe men, from the day they have the strength to turn a pirn-wheel to theday they crawl over their bed-board for the last time, but never yethave I said, 'I need one of you to sit up all night wi' an unweel body, 'but what there were half a dozen willing to do it. They are a grandrace, sir, and will remain so till they find it out themselves. "

"But of what use could a girl of twelve or fourteen be to them?"

"Use!" McQueen cried. "Man, she has been simply a treasure, and but forone thing I would believe it was less a morbid mind than a sort ofdivine instinct for nursing that took her to Ballingall's bedside. Thewomen do their best in a rough and ready way; but, sir, it cowed to seethat lassie easying a pillow for Ballingall's head, or changing a sheetwithout letting in the air, or getting a poultice on his back withoutdisturbing the one on his chest. I had just to let her see how to dothese things once, and after that Ballingall complained if any othersoul touched him. "

"Ah, " said McLean, "then perhaps I was uncharitable, and the nurse'sinstinct is the true explanation. "

"No, you're wrong again, though I might have been taken in as well asyou but for the one thing I spoke of. Three days ago Ballingall had aghost of a chance of pulling through, I thought, and I told the lassiethat if he did, the credit would be mainly hers. You'll scarcely believeit, but, upon my word, she looked disappointed rather than pleased, andshe said to me, quite reproachfully, 'You told me he was sure to die!'What do you make of that?"

"It sounds unnatural. "

"It does, and so does what followed. Do you know what straiking is?"

"Arraying the corpse for the coffin, laying it out, in short, is itnot?"

"Ay, ay. Well, it appears that Grizel had prigged with the women to lether be present at Ballingall's straiking, and they had refused. "

"I should think so, " exclaimed McQueen, with a shudder. 

"But that's not all. She came to me in her difficulty, and said that ifI didna promise her this privilege she would nurse Ballingall no more. "

"Ugh! That shows at least that pity for him had not influenced her. "

"No, she cared not a doit for him. I question if she's the kind thatcould care for anyone. It's plain by her thrawn look when you speak toher about her mother that she has no affection even for her. However, there she was, prepared to leave Ballingall to his fate if I did notgrant her request, and I had to yield to her. "

"You promised?"

"I did, sore against the grain, but I accept the responsibility. You arepained, but you don't know what a good nurse means to a doctor. "

"Well?"

"Well, he died after all, and the straiking is going on now. You saw hergo in. "

"I think you could have been excused for breaking your word and turningher out. "

"To tell the truth, " said the doctor, "I had the same idea when I sawher enter, and I tried to shoo her to the door, but she cried, 'Youpromised, you _can't_ break a promise!' and the morbid brat that she islooked so horrified at the very notion of anybody's breaking a promisethat I slunk away as if she had right on her side. "

"No wonder the little monster is unpopular, " was McLean's comment. "Thechildren hereabout seem to take to her as little as I do, for I had todrive away some who were molesting her. I am sorry I interfered now. "

"I can tell you why they t'nead her, " replied the doctor, and herepeated the little that was known in Thrums of the Painted Lady, "Andyou see the womenfolk are mad because they can find out so little abouther, where she got her money, for instance, and who are the 'gentlemen'that are said to visit her at Double Dykes. They have tried many ways ofdrawing Grizel, from heckle biscuits and parlies to a slap in the face, but neither by coaxing nor squeezing will you get an egg out of a sweerhen, and so they found. 'The dour little limmer, ' they say, 'stalkingabout wi' all her blinds down, ' and they are slow to interfere whentheir laddies call her names. It's a pity for herself that she's notmore communicative, for if she would just satisfy the women's curiosityshe would find them full of kindness. A terrible thing, Mr. McLean, iscuriosity. The Bible says that the love of money is the root of allevil, but we must ask Mr. Dishart if love of money is not a misprint forcuriosity. And you won't find men boring their way into other folk'sconcerns; it is a woman's failing, essentially a woman's. " This was thedoctor's pet topic, and he pursued it until they had to part. He hadopened his door and was about to enter when he saw Gavinia passing onher way home from the Den. 

"Come here, my lass, " he called to her, and then said inquisitively, "I'm told Mr. McLean is at his tea with Miss Ailie every day?"

"And it's true, " replied Gavinia, in huge delight, "and what's more, shehas given him some presents. "

"You say so, lassie! What were they now?"

"I dinna ken, " Gavinia had to admit, dejectedly. "She took them out o'the ottoman, and it has aye been kept looked. "

McQueen looked very knowingly at her. "Will he, think you?" he askedmysteriously. 

The maid seemed to understand, for she replied, promptly, "I hope hewill. "

"But he hasna spiered her as yet, you think?"

"No, " she said, "no, but he calls her Ailie, and wi' the gentry it's butone loup frae that to spiering. "

"Maybe, " answered the doctor, "but it's a loup they often bogle at. I'seuphaud he's close on fifty, Gavinia?"

"There's no denying he is by his best, " she said regretfully, and thenadded, with spirit, "but Miss Ailie's no heavy, and in thae grite armso' his he could daidle her as if she were an infant. "

This bewildered McQueen, and he asked, "What are you blethering about, Gavinia?" to which she replied, regally, "Wha carries me, wears me!" Thedoctor concluded that it must be Den language. 

"And I hope he's good enough for her, " continued Miss Ailie'swarm-hearted maid, "for she deserves a good ane. "

"She does, " McQueen agreed heartily; "ay, and I believe he is, for hebreathes through his nose instead of through his mouth; and let me tellyou, Gavinia, that's the one thing to be sure of in a man before youtake him for better or worse. "

The astounded maid replied, "I'll ken better things than that about mylad afore I take him, " but the doctor assured her that it was the boxwhich held them all, "though you maun tell no one, lassie, for it's myone discovery in five and thirty years of practice. "

Seeing that, despite his bantering tone, he was speaking seriously, shepressed him for his meaning, but he only replied sadly, "You're like therest, Gavinia, I see it breaking out on you in spots. "

"An illness!" she cried, in alarm. 

"Ay, lassie, an illness called curiosity. I had just been telling Mr. McLean that curiosity is essentially a woman's ailment, and up you comeahint to prove it. " He shook a finger at her reprovingly, and wasprobably still reflecting on woman's ways when Grizel walked home atmidnight breathing through her nose, and Tommy fell asleep with hismouth open. For Tommy could never have stood the doctor's test of a man. In the painting of him, aged twenty-four, which was exhibited in theRoyal Academy, his lips meet firmly, but no one knew save himself how hegasped after each sitting. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

BUT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MISS KITTY

The ottoman whence, as Gavinia said, Miss Ailie produced the presentsshe gave to Mr. McLean, stood near the door of the blue-and-white room, with a reel of thread between, to keep them apart forever. Except onwashing days it was of a genteel appearance, for though but a woodenkist, it had a gay outer garment with frills, which Gavinia starched, and beneath this was apparel of a private character that tied withtapes. When Miss Ailie, pins in her mouth, was on her knees arraying theottoman, it might almost have been mistaken for a female child. 

The contents of the ottoman were a few trivial articles sewn or knittedby Miss Kitty during her last illness, "just to keep me out of languor, "she would explain wistfully to her sister. She never told Miss Ailiethat they were intended for any special person; on the contrary, shesaid, "Perhaps you may find someone they will be useful to, " but almostwithout her knowing it they always grew into something that would beuseful to Ivie McLean. 

"The remarkable thing is that they are an exact fit, " the man saidabout the slippers, and Miss Ailie nodded, but she did not think itremarkable. 

There were also two fluffy little bags, and Miss Ailie had to explaintheir use. "If you put your feet into them in bed, " she faltered, "they--they keep you warm. "

McLean turned hastily to something else, a smoking-cap. "I scarcelythink this can have been meant for me, " he said; "you have forgotten howshe used to chide me for smoking. "

Miss Ailie had not forgotten. "But in a way, " she replied, flushing alittle, "we--that is, Kitty--could not help admiring you for smoking. There is something so--so dashing about it. "

"I was little worthy all the friendship you two gave me, Ailie, " he toldher humbly, and he was nearly saying something to her then that he hadmade up his mind to say. The time came a few days later. They had beenwalking together on the hill, and on their return to the Dovecot he hadinsisted, "in his old imperious way, " on coming in to tea. Hearingtalking in the kitchen Miss Ailie went along the passage to discoverwhat company her maid kept; but before she reached the door, which wasajar, she turned as if she had heard something dreadful and hurriedupstairs, signing to Mr. McLean, with imploring eyes, to follow her. This at once sent him to the kitchen door. 

Gavinia was alone. She was standing in the middle of the floor, withone arm crooked as if making believe that another's arm rested on it, and over her head was a little muslin window-blind, representing abride's veil. Thus she was two persons, but she was also a third, whoaddressed them in clerical tones. 

"Ivie McLean, " she said as solemnly as tho' she were the Rev. Mr. Dishart, "do you take this woman to be thy lawful wedded wife?" Withalmost indecent haste she answered herself, "I do. "

"Alison Cray, " she said next, "do you take this man to be thy lawfulwedded husband?" "I do. "

Just then the door shut softly; and Gavinia ran to see who had beenlistening, with the result that she hid herself in the coal-cellar. 

While she was there, Miss Ailie and Mr. McLean were sitting in theblue-and-white room very self-conscious, and Miss Ailie was speakingconfusedly of anything and everything, saying more in five minutes thanhad served for the previous hour, and always as she slackened she readan intention in his face that started her tongue upon another journey. But, "Timid Ailie, " he said at last, "do you think you can talk medown?" and then she gave him a look of reproach that turnedtreacherously into one of appeal, but he had the hardihood to continue;"Ailie, do you need to be told what I want to say?"

Miss Ailie stood quite still now, a stiff, thick figure, with a soft, plain face and nervous hands. "Before you speak, " she said, nervously, "I have something to tell you that--perhaps then you will not say it. 

"I have always led you to believe, " she began, trembling, "that I amforty-nine. I am fifty-one. "

He would have spoken, but the look of appeal came back to her face, asking him to make it easier for her by saying nothing. She took a pairof spectacles from her pocket, and he divined what this meant before shespoke. "I have avoided letting you see that I need them, " she said. "You--men don't like--" She tried to say it all in a rush, but the wordswould not come. 

"I am beginning to be a little deaf, " she went on. "To deceive you aboutthat, I have sometimes answered you without really knowing what yousaid. "

"Anything more, Ailie?"

"My accomplishments--they were never great, but Kitty and I thought myplaying of classical pieces--my fingers are not sufficiently pliablenow. And I--I forget so many things. "

"But, Ailie--"

"Please let me tell you. I was reading a book, a story, last winter, andone of the characters, an old maid, was held up to ridicule in it formany little peculiarities that--that I recognized as my own. They hadgrown upon me without my knowing that they made me ridiculous, and nowI--I have tried, but I cannot alter them. "

"Is that all, Ailie?"

"No. "

The last seemed to be the hardest to say. Dusk had come on, and theycould not see each other well. She asked him to light the lamp, and hisback was toward her while he did it, wondering a little at her request. When he turned, her hands rose like cowards to hide her head, but shepulled them down. "Do you not see?" she said. 

"I see that you have done something to your hair, " he answered, "I likedit best the other way. "

Most people would have liked it best the other way. There was still agood deal of it, but the "bun" in which it ended had gone strangelysmall. "The rest was false, " said Miss Ailie, with a painful effort; "atleast, it is my own, but it came out when--when Kitty died. "

She stopped, but he was silent. "That is all now, " she said, softly; andshe waited for him to speak if he chose. He turned his head awaysharply, and Miss Ailie mistook his meaning. If she gave one littlesob--Well, it was but one, and then all the glory of womanhood camerushing to her aid, and it unfurled its flag over her, whispering, "Now, sweet daughter, now, strike for me, " and she raised her head gallantly, and for a moment in her life the old school-mistress was a queen. "Ishall ring for tea, " she said, quietly and without a tremor; "do youthink there is anything so refreshing after a walk as a dish of tea?"

She rang the bell, but its tinkle only made Gavinia secede farther intothe cellar, and that summons has not been answered to this day, and noone seems to care, for while the wires were still vibrating Mr. McLeanhad asked Miss Ailie to forgive him and marry him. 

Miss Ailie said she would, but, "Oh, " she cried, "ten years ago it mighthave been my Kitty. I would that it had been Kitty!"

Miss Ailie was dear to him now, and ten years is a long time, and menare vain. Mr. McLean replied, quite honestly, "I am not sure that I didnot always like you best, " but that hurt her, and he had to unsay thewords. 

"I was a thoughtless fool ten years ago, " he said, bitterly, and MissAilie's answer came strangely from such timid lips. "Yes, you were!" sheexclaimed, passionately, and all the wrath, long pent up, with verydifferent feelings, in her gentle bosom, against the man who should haveadored her Kitty, leapt at that reproachful cry to her mouth and eyes, and so passed out of her forever. 

CHAPTER XXIX

TOMMY THE SCHOLAR

So Miss Ailie could be brave, but what a poltroon she was also! Threecalls did she make on dear friends, ostensibly to ask how a cold was orto instruct them in a new device in Shetland wool, but really toannounce that she did not propose keeping school after the end of theterm--because--in short, Mr. Ivie McLean and she--that is he--and so on. But though she had planned it all out so carefully, with at least threecapital ways of leading up to it, and knew precisely what they wouldsay, and pined to hear them say it, on each occasion shyness conqueredand she came away with the words unspoken. How she despised herself, andhow Mr. McLean laughed! He wanted to take the job off her hands bytelling the news to Dr. McQueen, who could be depended on to spread itthrough the town, and Miss Ailie discovered with horror that his simpleplan was to say, "How are you, doctor? I just looked in to tell you thatMiss Ailie and I are to be married. Good afternoon. " The audacity ofthis captivated Miss Ailie even while it outraged her sense of decency. To Redlintie went Mr. McLean, and returning next day drew from hispocket something which he put on Miss Ailie's finger, and then she hadthe idea of taking off her left glove in church, which would haveannounced her engagement as loudly as though Mr. Dishart had included itin his pulpit intimations. Religion, however, stopped her when she hadgot the little finger out, and the Misses Finlayson, who sat behind andknew she had an itchy something inside her glove, concluded that it washer threepenny for the plate. As for Gavinia, like others of her classin those days, she had never heard of engagement rings, and so it reallyseemed as if Mr. McLean must call on the doctor after all. But "No, "said he, "I hit upon a better notion to-day in the Den, " and to explainthis notion he produced from his pocket a large, vulgar bottle, whichshocked Miss Ailie, and indeed that bottle had not passed through thestreets uncommented on. 

Mr. McLean having observed this bottle afloat on the Silent Pool, hadfished it out with his stick, and its contents set him chuckling. Theyconsisted of a sheet of paper which stated that the bottle was beingflung into the sea in lat. 20, long. 40, by T. Sandys, Commander of theAilie, then among the breakers. Sandys had little hope of weathering thegale, but he was indifferent to his own fate so long as his enemy didnot escape, and he called upon whatsoever loyal subjects of the Queenshould find this document to sail at once to lat. 20, long. 40, andthere cruise till they had captured the Pretender, _alias_ Stroke, anddestroyed his Lair. A somewhat unfavorable personal description ofStroke was appended, with a map of the coast, and a stern warning to allloyal subjects not to delay as one Ailie was in the villain's hands andhe might kill her any day. Victoria Regina would give five hundredpounds for his head. The letter ended in manly style with the writer'ssending an affecting farewell message to his wife and little children. 

"And so while we are playing ourselves, " said Mr. McLean to Miss Ailie, "your favorite is seeking my blood. "

"Our favorite, " interposed the school-mistress, and he accepted thecorrection, for neither of them could forget that their presentrelations might have been very different had it not been for Tommy'sfaith in the pass-book. The boy had shown a knowledge of the humanheart, in Miss Ailie's opinion, that was simply wonderful; inspirationshe called it, and though Ivie thought it a happy accident, he did notcall it so to her. Tommy's father had been the instrument in bringingthese two together originally, and now Tommy had brought them togetheragain; there was fate in it, and if the boy was of the right stuffMcLean meant to reward him. 

"I see now, " he said to Miss Ailie, "a way of getting rid of ourfearsome secret and making my peace with Sandys at one fell blow. " Hedeclined to tell her more, but presently he sought Gavinia, who dreadedhim nowadays because of his disconcerting way of looking at herinquiringly and saying "I do!"

"You don't happen to know, Gavinia, " he asked, "whether the good shipAilie weathered the gale of the 15th instant? If it did, " he went on, "Commander Sandys will learn something to his advantage from a bottlethat is to be cast into the ocean this evening. "

Gavinia thought she heard the chink of another five shillings, and hermouth opened so wide that a chaffinch could have built therein. "Is heto look for a bottle in the pond?" she asked, eagerly. 

"I do, " replied McLean with such solemnity that she again retired to thecoal-cellar. 

That evening Mr. McLean cast a bottle into the Silent Pool, andsubsequently called on Mr. Cathro, to whom he introduced himself as oneinterested in Master Thomas Sandys. He was heartily received, but at thename of Tommy, Cathro heaved a sigh that could not pass unnoticed. "Isee you don't find him an angel, " said Mr. McLean, politely. 

"'Deed, sir, there are times when I wish he was an angel, " the dominiereplied so viciously that McLean laughed. "And I grudge you that laugh, "continued Cathro, "for your Tommy Sandys has taken from me the mostprecious possession a teacher can have--my sense of humor. "

"He strikes me as having a considerable sense of humor himself. "

"Well he may, Mr. McLean, for he has gone off with all mine. But bide awee till I get in the tumblers, and. I'll tell you the latest abouthim--if what you want to hear is just the plain exasperating truth. 

"His humor that you spoke of, " resumed the school-master presently, addressing his words to the visitor, and his mind to a toddy ladle ofhorn, "is ill to endure in a school where the understanding is that thedominie makes all the jokes (except on examination-day, when theministers get their yearly fling), but I think I like your young friendworst when he is deadly serious. He is constantly playing some newpart--playing is hardly the word though, for into each part he puts anearnestness that cheats even himself, until he takes to another. Isuppose you want me to give you some idea of his character, and I couldtell you what it is at any particular moment; but it changes, sir, I doassure you, almost as quickly as the circus-rider flings off his layersof waistcoats. A single puff of wind blows him from one character toanother, and he may be noble and vicious, and a tyrant and a slave, andhard as granite and melting as butter in the sun, all in one forenoon. All you can be sure of is that whatever he is he will be it in excess. "

"But I understood, " said McLean, "that at present he is solely engagedon a war of extermination in the Den. "

"Ah, those exploits, I fancy, are confined to Saturday nights, andunfortunately his Saturday debauch does not keep him sober for the restof the week, which we demand of respectable characters in these parts. For the last day or two, for instance, he has been in mourning. "

"I had not heard of that. "

"No, I daresay not, and I'll give you the facts, if you'll fill yourglass first. But perhaps--" here the dominie's eyes twinkled as if agleam of humor had been left him after all--"perhaps you have been moreused of late to ginger wine?"

The visitor received the shock impassively as if he did not know he hadbeen hit, and Cathro proceeded with his narrative. "Well, for a day ortwo Tommy Sandys has been coming to the school in a black jacket withcrape on the cuffs, and not only so, he has sat quiet and forlorn-likeat his desk as if he had lost some near and dear relative. Now I knewthat he had not, for his only relative is a sister whom you may haveseen at the Hanky School, and both she and Aaron Latta are hearty. Yet, sir (and this shows the effect he has on me), though I was puzzled andcurious I dared not ask for an explanation. "

"But why not?" was the visitor's natural question. 

"Because, sir, he is such a mysterious little sacket, " replied Cathro, testily, "and so clever at leading you into a hole, that it's notchancey to meddle with him, and I could see through the corner of my eyethat, for all this woeful face, he was proud of it, and hoped I wastaking note. For though sometimes his emotion masters him completely, atother times he can step aside as it were, and take an approving look atit. That is a characteristic of him, and not the least maddening one. "

"But you solved the mystery somehow, I suppose?"

"I got at the truth to-day by an accident, or rather my wife discoveredit for me. She happened to call in at the school on a domestic matter Ineed not trouble you with (sal, she needna have troubled me with iteither!), and on her way up the yard she noticed a laddie called LewisDoig playing with other ungodly youths at the game of kickbonnety. Lewis's father, a gentleman farmer, was buried jimply a fortnight since, and such want of respect for his memory made my wife give the loon adunt on the head with a pound of sugar, which she had just bought at the'Sosh. He turned on her, ready to scart or spit or run, as seemedwisest, and in a klink her woman's eye saw what mine had overlooked, that he was not even wearing a black jacket. Well, she told him what theslap was for, and his little countenance cleared at once. 'Oh' says he, 'that's all right, Tommy and me has arranged it, ' and he pointedblithely to a corner of the yard where Tommy was hunkering by himself inLewis's jacket, and wiping his mournful eyes with Lewis's hanky. Idaresay you can jalouse the rest, but I kept Lewis behind after theschool skailed, and got a full confession out of him. He had tried hard, he gave me to understand, to mourn fittingly for his father, but thekickbonnety season being on, it was up-hill work, and he was relievedwhen Tommy volunteered to take it off his hands. Tommy's offer was toswop jackets every morning for a week or two, and thus properly attiredto do the mourning for him. "

The dominie paused, and regarded his guest quizzically. "Sir, " he saidat length, "laddies are a queer growth; I assure you there was nopersuading Lewis that it was not a right and honorable compact. "

"And what payment, " asked McLean, laughing, "did Tommy demand from Lewisfor this service?"

"Not a farthing, sir--which gives another uncanny glint into hischaracter. When he wants money there's none so crafty at getting it, buthe did this for the pleasure of the thing, or, as he said to Lewis, 'tofeel what it would be like. ' That, I tell you, is the nature of thesacket, he has a devouring desire to try on other folk's feelings, as ifthey were so many suits of clothes. "

"And from your account he makes them fit him too. "

"My certie, he does, and a lippie in the bonnet more than that. "

So far the school-master had spoken frankly, even with an occasional grinat his own expense, but his words came reluctantly when he had to speakof Tommy's prospects at the bursary examinations. "I would rather saynothing on that head, " he said, almost coaxingly, "for the laddie has ayear to reform in yet, and it's never safe to prophesy. "

"Still I should have thought that you could guess pretty accurately howthe boys you mean to send up in a year's time are likely to do? You havehad a long experience, and, I am told, a glorious one. "

"'Deed, there's no denying it, " answered the dominie, with a pride hehad won the right to wear. "If all the ministers, for instance, I haveturned out in this bit school were to come back together, they couldhold the General Assembly in the square. "

He lay back in his big chair, a complacent dominie again. "Guess thechances of my laddies!" he cried, forgetting what he had just said, andthat there was a Tommy to bother him. "I tell you, sir, that's a matteron which I'm never deceived, I can tell the results so accurately that awise Senatus would give my lot the bursaries I say they'll carry, without setting them down to examination-papers at all. " And for thenext half-hour he was reciting cases in proof of his sagacity. 

"Wonderful!" chimed in McLean. "I see it is evident you can tell me howTommy Sandys will do, " but at that Cathro's rush of words again subsidedinto a dribble. 

"He's the worst Latinist that ever had the impudence to think ofbursaries, " he groaned. 

"And his Greek--" asked McLean, helping on the conversation as far aspossible. 

"His Greek, sir, could be packed in a pill-box. "

"That does not sound promising. But the best mathematicians aresometimes the worst linguists. "

"His Greek is better than his mathematics, " said Cathro, and he fellinto lamentation. "I have had no luck lately, " he sighed. "The laddies Ihave to prepare for college are second-raters, and the vexing thing is, that when a real scholar is reared in Thrums, instead of his beinghanded over to me for the finishing, they send him to Mr. Ogilvy inGlenquharity. Did Miss Ailie ever mention Gavin Dishart to you--theminister's son? I just craved to get the teaching of that laddie, he wasthe kind you can cram with learning till there's no room left foranother spoonful, and they bude send him to Mr. Ogilvy, and you'll seehe'll stand high above my loons in the bursary list. And then Ogilvywill put on sic airs that there will be no enduring him. Ogilvy and I, sir, we are engaged in an everlasting duel; when we send students to theexaminations, it is we two who are the real competitors, but what chancehave I, when he is represented by a Gavin Dishart and my man is TommySandys?"

McLean was greatly disappointed. "Why send Tommy up at all if he is sobackward?" he said. "You are sure you have not exaggerated hisdeficiencies?"

"Well, not much at any rate. But he baffles me; one day I think him aperfect numskull, and the next he makes such a show of the small dropof scholarship he has that I'm not sure but what he may be a genius. "

"That sounds better. Does he study hard?"

"Study! He is the most careless whelp that ever--"

"But if I were to give him an inducement to study?"

"Such as?" asked Cathro, who could at times be as inquisitive as thedoctor. 

"We need not go into that. But suppose it appealed to him?"

Cathro considered. "To be candid, " he said, "I don't think he couldstudy, in the big meaning of the word. I daresay I'm wrong, but I have afeeling that whatever knowledge that boy acquires he will dig out ofhimself. There is something inside him, or so I think at times, that ishis master, and rebels against book-learning. No, I can't tell what itis; when we know that we shall know the real Tommy. "

"And yet, " said McLean, curiously, "you advise his being allowed tocompete for a bursary. That, if you will excuse my saying so, soundsfoolish to me. "

"It can't seem so foolish to you, " replied Cathro, scratching his head, "as it seems to me six days in seven. "

"And you know that Aaron Latta has sworn to send him to the herding ifhe does not carry a bursary. Surely the wisest course would be toapprentice him now to some trade--"

"What trade would not be the worse of him? He would cut off his fingerswith a joiner's saw, and smash them with a mason's mell; put him in abrot behind a counter, and in some grand, magnanimous mood he would selloff his master's things for nothing; make a clerk of him, and he wouldonly ravel the figures; send him to the soldiering, and he would have asudden impulse to fight on the wrong side. No, no, Miss Ailie says hehas a gift for the ministry, and we must cling to that. "

In thus sheltering himself behind Miss Ailie, where he had never skulkedbefore, the dominie showed how weak he thought his position, and headded, with a brazen laugh, "Then if he does distinguish himself at theexaminations I can take the credit for it, and if he comes back indisgrace I shall call you to witness that I only sent him to them at herinstigation. "

"All which, " maintained McLean, as he put on his top-coat, "means thatsomehow, against your better judgment, you think he may distinguishhimself after all. "

"You've found me out, " answered Cathro, half relieved, half sorry. "Ihad no intention of telling you so much, but as you have found me outI'll make a clean breast of it. Unless something unexpected happens tothe laddie--unless he take to playing at scholarship as if it were aJacobite rebellion, for instance--he shouldna have the ghost of a chanceof a bursary, and if he were any other boy as ill-prepared I should beashamed to send him up, but he is Tommy Sandys, you see, and--it is aterrible thing to say, but it's Gospel truth, it's Gospel truth--I'mtrusting to the possibility of his diddling the examiners!"

It was a startling confession for a conscientious dominie, and Cathroflung out his hands as if to withdraw the words, but his visitor wouldhave no tampering with them. "So that sums up Tommy, so far as you knowhim, " he said as he bade his host good-night. 

"It does, " Cathro admitted, grimly, "but if what you wanted was awritten certificate of character I should like to add this, that neverdid any boy sit on my forms whom I had such a pleasure in thrashing. "

CHAPTER XXX

END OF THE JACOBITE RISING

In the small hours of the following night the pulse of Thrums stoppedfor a moment, and then went on again, but the only watcher remainedsilent, and the people rose in the morning without knowing that they hadlost one of their number while they slept. In the same ignorance theytoiled through a long day. 

It was a close October day in the end of a summer that had lingered togive the countryside nothing better than a second crop of haws. Beneaththe beeches leaves lay in yellow heaps like sliced turnip, and over allthe strath was a pink haze; the fields were singed brown, except where arecent ploughing gave them a mourning border. From early morn men, womenand children (Tommy among them) were in the fields taking up theirpotatoes, half-a-dozen gatherers at first to every drill, and by noon itseemed a dozen, though the new-comers were but stout sacks, now able tostand alone. By and by heavy-laden carts were trailing into Thrums, dog-tired toilers hanging on behind, not to be dragged, but for anincentive to keep them trudging, boys and girls falling asleep on topof the load, and so neglecting to enjoy the ride which was theirrecompense for lifting. A growing mist mixed with the daylight, andstill there were a few people out, falling over their feet with fatigue;it took silent possession, and then the shadowy forms left in the fieldswere motionless and would remain there until carted to garrets andkitchen corners and other winter quarters on Monday morning. There werefew gad-abouts that Saturday night. Washings were not brought in, thoughMr. Dishart had preached against the unseemly sight of linen hanging onthe line on the Sabbath-day. Innes, stravaiging the square and wynds inhis apple-cart, jingled his weights in vain, unable to shake evenmoneyed children off their stools, and when at last he told his beast togo home they took with them all the stir of the town. Family exercisecame on early in many houses, and as the gude wife handed her man theBible she said entreatingly, "A short ane. " After that one might havesaid that no earthly knock could bring them to their doors, yet withinan hour the town was in a ferment. 

When Tommy and Elspeth reached the Den the mist lay so thick that theyhad to feel their way through it to the _Ailie_, where they foundGavinia alone and scared. "Was you peeping in, trying to fleg me twathree minutes syne?" she asked, eagerly, and when they shook theirheads, she looked cold with fear. 

"As sure as death, " she said, "there was some living thing standingthere; I couldna see it for the rime, but I heard it breathing hard. "

Tommy felt Elspeth's hand begin to tremble, and he said "McLean!"hastily, though he knew that McLean had not yet left the Quharity Arms. Next moment Corp arrived with another story as unnerving. 

"Has Grizel no come yet?" he asked, in a troubled voice. "Tommy, hearkento this, a light has been burning in Double Dykes and the door swingingopen a' day! I saw it mysel', and so did Willum Dods. "

"Did you go close?"

"Na faags! Willum was hol'ing and I was lifting, so we hadna time in thedaylight, and wha would venture near the Painted Lady's house on sic anight?"

Even Tommy felt uneasy, but when Gavinia cried, "There's somethinguncanny in being out the night; tell us what was in Mr. McLean's bottle, Tommy, and syne we'll run hame, " he became Commander Sandys again, andreplied, blankly, "What bottle?"

"The ane I warned you he was to fling into the water; dinna dare tell meyou hinna got it. "

"I know not what thou art speaking about, " said Tommy; "but it's a queerthing, it's a queer thing, Gavinia"--here he fixed her with histerrifying eye--"I happen to have found a--another bottle, " and stillglaring at her he explained that he had found his bottle floating onthe horizon. It contained a letter to him, which he now read aloud. Itwas signed "The Villain Stroke, his mark, " and announced that thewriter, "tired of this relentless persecution, " had determined to reformrather than be killed. "Meet me at the Cuttle Well, on Saturday, whenthe eight-o'clock bell is ringing, " he wrote, "and I shall there makeyou an offer for my freedom. "

The crew received this communication with shouts, Gavinia's cry of "Fiveshillings, if no ten!" expressing the general sentiment, but it wouldnot have been like Tommy to think with them. "You poor things, " he said, "you just believe everything you're telled! How do I know that this isnot a trick of Stroke's to bring me here when he is some other gaitworking mischief?"

Corp was impressed, but Gavinia said, short-sightedly, "There's no signo't. "

"There's ower much sign o't, " retorted Tommy. "What's this story aboutDouble Dykes? And how do we ken that there hasna been foul work there, and this man at the bottom o't? I tell you, before the world's half anhour older, I'll find out, " and he looked significantly at Corp, whoanswered, quaking, "I winna gang by mysel', no, Tommy, I winna!"

So Tommy had to accompany him, saying, valiantly, "I'm no feared, andthis rime is fine for hodding in, " to which Corp replied, as firmly, "Neither am I, and we can aye keep touching cauld iron. " Before theywere half way down the Double Dykes they got a thrill, for theyrealized, simultaneously, that they were being followed. They stoppedand gripped each other hard, but now they could hear nothing. 

"The Painted Lady!" Corp whispered. 

"Stroke!" Tommy replied, as cautiously. He was excited rather thanafraid, and had the pluck to cry, "Wha's that? I see you!"--but noanswer came back through the mist, and now the boys had a double reasonfor pressing forward. 

"Can you see the house, Corp?"

"It should be here about, but it's smored in rime. "

"I'm touching the paling. I ken the road to the window now. "

"Hark! What's that?"

It sounded like devil's music in front of them, and they fell back untilCorp remembered, "It maun be the door swinging open, and squealing andmoaning on its hinges. Tommy, I take ill wi' that. What can it mean?"

"I'm here to find out. " They reached the window where Tommy had watchedonce before, and looking in together saw the room plainly by the lightof a lamp which stood on the spinet. There was no one inside, butotherwise Tommy noticed little change. The fire was out, havingevidently burned itself done, the bed-clothes were in some disorder. Toavoid the creaking door, the boys passed round the back of the house tothe window of the other room. This room was without a light, but itsdoor stood open and sufficient light came from the kitchen to show thatit also was untenanted. It seemed to have been used as a lumber-room. 

The boys turned to go, passing near the front of the empty house, wherethey shivered and stopped, mastered by a feeling they could not haveexplained. The helpless door, like the staring eyes of a dead person, seemed to be calling to them to shut it, and Tommy was about to stealforward for this purpose when Corp gripped him and whispered that thelight had gone out. It was true, though Tommy disbelieved until they hadreturned to the east window to make sure. 

"There maun be folk in the hoose, Tommy!"

"You saw it was toom. The lamp had gone out itself, or else--what'sthat?"

It was the unmistakable closing of a door, softly but firmly. "The windhas blown it to, " they tried to persuade themselves, though aware thatthere was not sufficient wind for this. After a long period of stillnessthey gathered courage to go to the door and shake it. It was not onlyshut, but locked. 

On their way back through the Double Dykes they were silent, listeningpainfully but hearing nothing. But when they reached the Coffin BrigTommy said, "Dinna say nothing about this to Elspeth, it would terrifyher;" he was always so thoughtful for Elspeth. 

"But what do you think o't a'?" Corp said, imploringly. 

"I winna tell you yet, " replied Tommy, cautiously. 

When they boarded the _Ailie_, where the two girls were very glad to seethem again, the eight-o'clock bell had begun to ring, and thus Tommy hada reasonable excuse for hurrying his crew to the Cuttle Well withoutsaying anything of his expedition to Double Dykes, save that he had notseen Grizel. At the Well they had not long to wait before Mr. McLeansuddenly appeared out of the mist, and to their astonishment Miss Ailiewas leaning on his arm. She was blushing and smiling too, in a waypretty to see, though it spoilt the effect of Stroke's statement. 

The first thing Stroke did was to give up his sword to Tommy and toapologize for its being an umbrella on account of the unsettled state ofthe weather, and then Corp led three cheers, the captain alone decliningto join in, for he had an uneasy feeling that he was being ridiculed. 

"But I thought there were five of you, " Mr. McLean said; "where is thefifth?"

"You ken best, " replied Tommy, sulkily, and sulky he remained throughoutthe scene, because he knew he was not the chief figure in it. Havingthis knowledge to depress him, it is to his credit that he bore himselfwith dignity throughout, keeping his crew so well in hand that theydared not give expression to their natural emotions. 

"As you are aware, Mr. Sandys, " McLean began solemnly, "I have comehere to sue for pardon. It is not yours to give, you reply, the Queenalone can pardon, and I grant it; but, sir, is it not well known to allof us that you can get anything out of her you like?"

Tommy's eyes roved suspiciously, but the suppliant proceeded in the sametone. "What are my offences? The first is that I have been bearing arms(unwittingly) against the Throne; the second, that I have broughttrouble to the lady by my side, who has the proud privilege of callingyou her friend. But, Sandys, such amends as can come from an erring manI now offer to make most contritely. Intercede with Her Majesty on mybehalf, and on my part I promise to war against her no more. I amwilling to settle down in the neighboring town as a law-abiding citizen, whom you can watch with eagle eye. Say, what more wouldst thou of theunhappy Stuart?"

But Tommy would say nothing, he only looked doubtfully at Miss Ailie, and that set McLean off again. "You ask what reparation I shall make tothis lady? Sandys, I tell thee that here also thou hast proved toostrong for me. In the hope that she would plead for me with you, I havebeen driven to offer her my hand in marriage, and she is willing to takeme if thou grantest thy consent. "

At this Gavinia jumped with joy, and then cried, "Up wi' her!" wordswhose bearing the school-mistress fortunately did not understand. Allsave Tommy looked at Miss Ailie, and she put her arm on Mr. McLean's, and, yes, it was obvious, Miss Ailie was a lover at the Cuttle Well atlast, like so many others. She had often said that the Den parade wasvulgar, but she never said it again. 

It was unexpected news to Tommy, but that was not what lowered his headin humiliation now. In the general rejoicing he had been nigh forgotten;even Elspeth was hanging on Miss Ailie's skirts, Gavinia had eyes fornone but lovers, Corp was rapturously examining five half-crowns thathad been dropped into his hands for distribution. Had Tommy given anorder now, who would have obeyed it? His power was gone, his crew wouldnot listen to another word against Mr. McLean. 

"Tommy thought Mr. McLean hated you!" said Elspeth to Miss Ailie. 

"It was queer you made sic a mistake!" said Corp to Tommy. 

"Oh, the tattie-doolie!" cried Gavinia. 

So they knew that Mr. McLean had only been speaking sarcastically; of asudden they saw through and despised their captain. Tears ofmortification rose in Tommy's eyes, and kind-hearted Miss Ailie sawthem, and she thought it was her lover's irony that made him smart. Shehad said little hitherto, but now she put her hand on his shoulder, andtold them all that she did indeed owe the supreme joy that had come toher to him. "No, Gavinia, " she said, blushing, "I will not give you theparticulars, but I assure you that had it not been for Tommy, Mr. McLeanwould never have asked me to marry him. "

Elspeth crossed proudly to the side of her noble brother (who couldscarcely trust his ears), and Gavinia cried, in wonder, "What did hedo?"

Now McLean had seen Tommy's tears also, and being a kindly man hedropped the satirist and chimed in warmly, "And if I had not asked MissAilie to marry me I should have lost the great happiness of my life, soyou may all imagine how beholden I feel to Tommy. "

Again Tommy was the centre-piece, and though these words were aspuzzling to him as to his crew, their sincerity was unmistakable, andonce more his head began to waggle complacently. 

"And to show how grateful we are, " said Miss Ailie, "we are to give hima--a sort of marriage present. We are to double the value of the bursaryhe wins at the university--" She could get no farther, for now Elspethwas hugging her, and Corp cheering frantically, and Mr. McLean thoughtit necessary to add the warning, "If he does carry a bursary, youunderstand, for should he fail I give him nothing. "

"Him fail!" exclaimed Corp, with whom Miss Ailie of course agreed. "Andhe can spend the money in whatever way he chooses, " she said, "what willyou do with it, Tommy?"

The lucky boy answered, instantly, "I'll take Elspeth to Aberdeen tobide with me, " and then Elspeth hugged him, and Miss Ailie said, in adelighted aside to Mr. McLean, "I told you so, " and he, too, was wellpleased. 

"It was the one thing needed to make him work, " the school-mistresswhispered. "Is not his love for his sister beautiful?"

McLean admitted that it was, but half-banteringly he said to Elspeth:"What could you do in lodgings, you excited mite?"

"I can sit and look at Tommy, " she answered, quickly. 

"But he will be away for hours at his classes. "

"I'll sit at the window waiting for him, " said she. 

"And I'll run back quick, " said Tommy. 

All this time another problem had been bewildering Gavinia, and now shebroke in, eagerly: "But what was it he did? I thought he was agin Mr. McLean. "

"And so did I, " said Corp. 

"I cheated you grandly, " replied Tommy with the audacity he found souseful. 

"And a' the time you was pretending to be agin him, " screamed Gavinia, "was you--was you bringing this about on the sly?"

Tommy looked up into Mr. McLean's face, but could get no guidance fromit, so he said nothing; he only held his head higher than ever. "Oh, theclever little curse!" cried Corp, and Elspeth's delight was as ecstatic, though differently worded. Yet Gavinia stuck to her problem, "How didyou do it, what was it you did?" and the cruel McLean said: "You maytell her, Tommy; you have my permission. "

It would have been an awkward position for most boys, and evenTommy--but next moment he said, quite coolly: "I think you and me andMiss Ailie should keep it to oursels, Gavinia's sic a gossip. "

"Oh, how thoughtful of him!" cried Miss Ailie, the deceived, and McLeansaid: "How very thoughtful!" but now he saw in a flash why Mr. Cathrostill had hopes that Tommy might carry a bursary. 

Thus was the repentant McLean pardoned, and nothing remained for him todo save to show the crew his Lair, which they had sworn to destroy. Hehad behaved so splendidly that they had forgotten almost that they werethe emissaries of justice, but not to destroy the Lair seemed a pity, itwould be such a striking way of bringing their adventures in the Den toa close. The degenerate Stuart read this feeling in their faces, and hewas ready, he said, to show them his Lair if they would first point itout to him; but here was a difficulty, for how could they do that? For amoment it seemed as if the negotiations must fall through; but Sandys, that captain of resource, invited McLean to step aside for a privateconference, and when they rejoined the others McLean said, gravely, thathe now remembered where the Lair was and would guide them to it. 

They had only to cross a plank, invisible in the mist until they wereclose to it, and climb a slippery bank strewn with fallen trees. McLean, with a mock serious air, led the way, Miss Ailie on his arm. Corp andGavinia followed, weighted and hampered by their new half-crowns, andTommy and Elspeth, in the rear, whispered joyously of the coming life. And so, very unprepared for it, they moved toward the tragedy of thenight. 

CHAPTER XXXI

A LETTER TO GOD

"Do you keep a light burning in the Lair?" McLean turned to ask, forgetting for the moment that it was not their domicile, but his. 

"No, there's no light, " replied Corp, equally forgetful, but even as hespoke he stopped so suddenly that Elspeth struck against him. For he hadseen a light. "This is queer!" he cried, and both he and Gavinia fellback in consternation. McLean pushed forward alone, and was back in atrice, with a new expression on his face. "Are you playing some trick onme?" he demanded suspiciously of Tommy. "There is some one there; Ialmost ran against a pair of blazing eyes. "

"But there's nobody; there can be nobody there, " answered Tommy, in abewilderment that was obviously unfeigned, "unless--unless--" He lookedat Corp, and the eyes of both finished the sentence. The desolate sceneat Double Dykes, which the meeting with McLean and Miss Ailie had drivenfrom their minds, again confronted them, and they seemed once more tohear the whimpering of the Painted Lady's door. 

"Unless what?" asked the man, impatiently, but still the two boys onlystared at each other. "The Den's no mous the night, " said Corp at last, in a low voice, and his unspoken fears spread to the womankind, so thatMiss Ailie shuddered and Elspeth gripped Tommy with both hands andGavinia whispered, "Let's away hame, we can come back in the daylight. "

But McLean chafed and pressed upward, and next moment a girl's voice washeard, crying: "It is no business of yours; I won't let you touch her. "

"Grizel!" exclaimed Tommy and his crew, simultaneously, and they had nomore fear until they were inside the Lair. What they saw had best bedescribed very briefly. A fire was burning in a corner of the Lair, andin front of it, partly covered with a sheet, lay the Painted Lady, dead. Grizel stood beside the body guarding it, her hands clenched, her eyesvery strange. "You sha'n't touch her!" she cried, passionately, andrepeated it many times, as if she had lost the power to leave off, butCorp crept past her and raised the coverlet. 

"She's straikit!" he shouted. "Did you do it yoursel', Grizel? Godbehears, she did it hersel'!"

A very long silence it seemed to be after that. 

Miss Ailie would have taken the motherless girl to her arms, but first, at Corp's discovery, she had drawn back in uncontrollable repulsion, andGrizel, about to go to her, saw it, and turned from her to Tommy. Hereyes rested on him beseechingly, with a look he saw only once again inthem until she was a woman, but his first thought was not for Grizel. Elspeth was clinging to him, terrified and sobbing, and he cried to her, "Shut your een, " and then led her tenderly away. He was always good toElspeth. 

 * * * * *

There was no lack of sympathy with Grizel when the news spread throughthe town, and unshod men with their gallowses hanging down, and womenbuttoning as they ran, hurried to the Den. But to all the questions putto her and to all the kindly offers made, as the body was carried toDouble Dykes, she only rocked her arms, crying, "I don't want anythingto eat. I shall stay all night beside her. I am not frightened at mymamma. I won't tell you why she was in the Den. I am not sure how longshe has been dead. Oh, what do these little things matter?"

The great thing was that her mamma should be buried in the cemetery, andnot in unconsecrated ground with a stake through her as the boys hadpredicted, and it was only after she was promised this that Grizel toldher little tale. She had feared for a long time that her mamma was dyingof consumption, but she told no one, because everybody was against herand her mamma. Her mamma never knew that she was dying, and sometimesshe used to get so much better that Grizel hoped she would live a longtime, but that hope never lasted long. The reason she sat so much withBallingall was just to find out what doctors did to dying people to makethem live a little longer, and she watched his straiking to be able todo it to her mamma when the time came. She was sure none of the womenwould consent to straik her mamma. On the previous night, she could notsay at what hour, she had been awakened by a cold wind, and so she knewthat the door was open. She put out her hand in the darkness and foundthat her mamma was not beside her. It had happened before, and she wasnot frightened. She had hidden the key of the door that night and naileddown the window, but her mamma had found the key. Grizel rose, lit thelamp, and, having dressed hurriedly, set off with wraps to the Den. Hermamma was generally as sensible as anybody in Thrums, but sometimes shehad shaking fits, and after them she thought it was the time of longago. Then she went to the Den to meet a man who had promised, she said, to be there, but he never came, and before daybreak Grizel could usuallyinduce her to return home. Latterly she had persuaded her mamma to waitfor him in the old Lair, because it was less cold there, and she had gother to do this last night. Her mamma did not seem very unwell, but shefell asleep, and she died sleeping, and then Grizel went back to DoubleDykes for linen and straiked her. 

Some say in Thrums that a spade was found in the Lair, but that is onlythe growth of later years. Grizel had done all she could do, andthrough the long Saturday she sat by the side of the body, helpless andunable to cry. She knew that it could not remain there much longer, butevery time she rose to go and confess, fear of the indignities to whichthe body of her darling mamma might be subjected pulled her back. Theboys had spoken idly, but hunted Grizel, who knew so much less and somuch more than any of them, believed it all. 

It was she who had stood so near Gavinia in the ruined house. She hadonly gone there to listen to human voices. When she discovered from thetalk of her friends that she had left a light burning at Double Dykesand the door open, fear of the suspicions this might give rise to hadsent her to the house on the heels of the two boys, and it was she whohad stolen past them in the mist to put out the light and lock the door. Then she had returned to her mamma's side. 

The doctor was among the listeners, almost the only dry-eyed one, but hewas not dry-eyed because he felt the artless story least. Again andagain he rose from his chair restlessly, and Grizel thought he scowledat her when he was really scowling at himself; as soon as she hadfinished he cleared the room brusquely of all intruders, and then heturned on her passionately. 

"Think shame of yoursel', " he thundered, "for keeping me in the dark, "and of course she took his words literally, though their full meaningwas, "I shall scorn myself from this hour for not having won the poorchild's confidence. "

Oh, he was a hard man, Grizel thought, the hardest of them all. But shewas used to standing up to hard men, and she answered, defiantly: "I didmean to tell you, that day you sent me with the bottle to Ballingall, Iwas waiting at the surgery door to tell you, but you were cruel, yousaid I was a thief, and then how could I tell you?"

This, too, struck home, and the doctor winced, but what he said was, "You fooled me for a whole week, and the town knows it; do you think Ican forgive you for that?"

"I don't care whether you forgive me, " replied Grizel at once. 

"Nor do I care whether you care, " he rapped out, all the time wishing hecould strike himself; "but I'm the doctor of this place, and when yourmother was ill you should have come straight to me. What had I done thatyou should be afraid of me?"

"I am not afraid of you, " she replied, "I am not afraid of anyone, butmamma was afraid of you because she knew you had said cruel things abouther, and I thought--I won't tell you what I thought. " But with a littlepressing she changed her mind and told him. "I was not sure whether youwould come to see her, though I asked you, and if you came I knew youwould tell her she was dying, and that would have made her scream. Andthat is not all, I thought you might tell her that she would be buriedwith a stake through her--"

"Oh, these blackguard laddies!" cried McQueen, clenching his fists. 

"And so I dared not tell you, " Grizel concluded calmly; "I am notfrightened at you, but I was frightened you would hurt my dear darlingmamma, " and she went and stood defiantly between him and her mother. 

The doctor moved up and down the room, crying, "How did I not know ofthis, why was I not told?" and he knew that the fault had been his own, and so was furious when Grizel told him so. 

"Yes, it is, " she insisted, "you knew mamma was an unhappy lady, andthat the people shouted things against her and terrified her; and youmust have known, for everybody knew, that she was sometimes silly andwandered about all night, and you are a big strong man, and so youshould have been sorry for her; and if you had been sorry you would havecome to see her and been kind to her, and then you would have found itall out. "

"Have done, lassie!" he said, half angrily, half beseechingly, but shedid not understand that he was suffering, and she went on, relentlessly:"And you knew that bad men used to come to see her at night--they havenot come for a long time--but you never tried to stop their coming, andI could have stopped it if I had known they were bad; but I did not knowat first, and I was only a little girl, and you should have told me. "

"Have done!" It was all that he could say, for like many he had heard ofmen visiting the Painted Lady by stealth, and he had only wondered, withother gossips, who they were. 

He crossed again to the side of the dead woman, "And Ballingall's wasthe only corpse you ever saw straiked?" he said in wonder, she had doneher work so well. But he was not doubting her; he knew already that thisgirl was clothed in truthfulness. 

"Was it you that kept this house so clean?" he asked, almost irritably, for he himself was the one undusted, neglected-looking thing in it, andhe was suddenly conscious of his frayed wristband and of buttons hangingby a thread. 

"Yes. "

"What age are you?"

"I think I am thirteen. "

He looked long at her, vindictively she thought, but he was onlypicturing the probable future of a painted lady's child, and he saidmournfully to himself, "Ay, it does not even end here; and that's thecrowning pity of it. " But Grizel only heard him say, "Poor thing!" andshe bridled immediately. 

"I won't let you pity me, " she cried. 

"You dour brat!" he retorted. "But you need not think you are to haveeverything your own way still. I must get some Monypenny woman to takeyou till the funeral is over, and after that--"

"I won't go, " said Grizel, determinedly, "I shall stay with mamma tillshe is buried. "

He was not accustomed to contradiction, and he stamped his foot. "Youshall do as you are told, " he said. 

"I won't!" replied Grizel, and she also stamped her foot. 

"Very well, then, you thrawn tid, but at any rate I'll send in a womanto sleep with you. "

"I want no one. Do you think I am afraid?"

"I think you will be afraid when you wake up in the darkness, and findyourself alone with--with it. "

"I sha'n't, I shall remember at once that she is to be buried nicely inthe cemetery, and that will make me happy. "

"You unnatural--"

"Besides, I sha'n't sleep, I have something to do. "

His curiosity again got the better of the doctor. "What can you have todo at such a time?" he demanded, and her reply surprised him:

"I am to make a dress. "

"You!"

"I have made them before now, " she said indignantly. 

"But at such a time!"

"It is a black dress, " she cried, "I don't have one, I am to make itout of mamma's. "

He said nothing for some time, then "When did you think of this?"

"I thought of it weeks ago, I bought crape at the corner shop to beready, and--"

She thought he was looking at her in horror, and stopped abruptly. "Idon't care what you think, " she said. 

"What I do think, " he retorted, taking up his hat, "is, that you are amost exasperating lassie. If I bide here another minute I believe you'llget round me. "

"I don't want to get round you. "

"Then what makes you say such things? I question if I'll get an hour'ssleep to-night for thinking of you!"

"I don't want you to think of me!"

He groaned. "What could an untidy, hardened old single man like me dowith you in his house?" he said. "Oh, you little limmer, to put such athought into my head. "

"I never did!" she exclaimed, indignantly. 

"It began, I do believe it began, " he sighed, "the first time I saw youeasying Ballingall's pillows. "

"What began?"

"You brat, you wilful brat, don't pretend ignorance. You set a trap tocatch me, and--"

"Oh!" cried Grizel, and she opened the door quickly. "Go away, youhorrid man, " she said. 

He liked her the more for this regal action, and therefore it enragedhim. Sheer anxiety lest he should succumb to her on the spot was whatmade him bluster as he strode off, and "That brat of a Grizel, " or "ThePainted Lady's most unbearable lassie, " or "The dour little besom" washis way of referring to her in company for days, but if any one agreedwith him he roared "Don't be a fool, man, she's a wonder, she's adelight, " or "You have a dozen yourself, Janet, but I wouldna neiferGrizel for the lot of them. " And it was he, still denouncing her so longas he was contradicted, who persuaded the Auld Licht Minister toofficiate at the funeral. Then he said to himself, "And now I wash myhands of her, I have done all that can be expected of me. " He toldhimself this a great many times as if it were a medicine that must betaken frequently, and Grizel heard from Tommy, with whom she had somestrange conversations, that he was going about denouncing her "up hilland down dale. " But she did not care, she was so--so happy. For a holewas dug for the Painted Lady in the cemetery, just as if she had been agood woman, and Mr. Dishart conducted the service in Double Dykes beforethe removal of the body, nor did he say one word that could hurt Grizel, perhaps because his wife had drawn a promise from him. A large gatheringof men followed the coffin, three of them because, as yon may remember, Grizel had dared them to stay away, but all the others out of sympathywith a motherless child who, as the procession started, rocked her armsin delight because her mamma was being buried respectably. 

Being a woman, she could not attend the funeral, and so the chiefmourner was Tommy, as you could see by the position he took at thegrave, and by the white bands Grizel had sewn on his sleeves. He waslooking very important, as if he had something remarkable in prospect, but little attention was given him until the cords were dropped into thegrave, and a prayer offered up, when he pulled Mr. Dishart's coat andmuttered something about a paper. Those who had been making ready todepart swung round again, and the minister told him if he had anythingto say to speak out. 

"It's a paper, " Tommy said, nervous yet elated, and addressing all, "that Grizel put in the coffin. She told me to tell you about it whenthe cords fell on the lid. "

"What sort of a paper?" asked Mr. Dishart, frowning. 

"It's--it's a letter to God, " Tommy gasped. 

Nothing was to be heard except the shovelling of earth into the grave. "Hold your spade, John, " the minister said to the gravedigger, and theneven that sound stopped. "Go on, " Mr. Dishart signed to the boy. 

"Grizel doesna believe her mother has much chance of getting to heaven, "Tommy said, "and she wrote the letter to God, so that when he opens thecoffins on the last day he will find it and read about them. "

"About whom?" asked the stern minister. 

"About Grizel's father, for one. She doesna know his name, but thePainted Lady wore a locket wi' a picture of him on her breast, and it'sburied wi' her, and Grizel told God to look at it so as to know him. Shethinks her mother will be damned for having her, and that it winna befair unless God damns her father too. "

"Go on, " said Mr. Dishart. 

"There was three Thrums men--I think they were gentlemen--" Tommycontinued, almost blithely, "that used to visit the Painted Lady in thenight time afore she took ill. They wanted Grizel to promise no to tellabout their going to Double Dykes, and she promised because she was owerinnocent to know what they went for--but their names are in the letter. "

A movement in the crowd was checked by the minister's uplifted arm. "Goon, " he cried. 

"She wouldna tell me who they were, because it would have beenbreaking her promise, " said Tommy, "but"--he looked around himinquisitively--"but they're here at the funeral. "

The mourners were looking sideways at each other, some breathing hard, but none dared to speak before the minister. He stood for a long time indoubt, but at last he signed to John to proceed with the filling in ofthe grave. Contrary to custom all remained. Not until the grave wasagain level with the sward did Mr. Dishart speak, and then it was with agesture that appalled his hearers. "This grave, " he said, raising hisarm, "is locked till the day of judgment. "

Leaving him standing there, a threatening figure, they broke into groupsand dispersed, walking slowly at first, and then fast, to tell theirwives. 

CHAPTER XXXII

AN ELOPEMENT

The solitary child remained at Double Dykes, awaiting the arrival of herfather, for the Painted Lady's manner of leaving the world had made sucha stir that the neighbors said he must have heard of it, even though hewere in London, and if he had the heart of a stone he could not deserthis bairn. They argued thus among themselves, less as people who weresure of it than to escape the perplexing question, what to do withGrizel if the man never claimed her? and before her they spoke of hiscoming as a certainty, because it would be so obviously the best thingfor her. In the meantime they overwhelmed her with offers of everythingshe could need, which was kindly but not essential, for after thefuneral expenses had been paid (Grizel insisted on paying them herself)she had still several gold pieces, found in her mamma's beautifultortoise-shell purse, and there were nearly twenty pounds in the bank. 

But day after day passed, and the man had not come. Perhaps he resentedthe Painted Lady's ostentatious death; which, if he was nicely strung, must have jarred upon his nerves. He could hardly have acknowledgedGrizel now without publicity being given to his private concerns. Or hemay never have heard of the Painted Lady's death, or if he read of it, he may not have known which painted lady in particular she was. Or hemay have married, and told his wife all and she had forgiven him, whichsomehow, according to the plays and the novels, cuts the past adriftfrom a man and enables him to begin again at yesterday. Whatever thereason, Grizel's father was in no hurry to reveal himself, and thoughnot to her, among themselves the people talked of the probability of hisnot coming at all. She could not remain alone at Double Dykes, they alladmitted, but where, then, should she go? No fine lady in need of ahandmaid seemed to think a painted lady's child would suit; indeed, Grizel at first sight had not the manner that attracts philanthropists. Once only did the problem approach solution; a woman in the Den-head waswilling to take the child because (she expressed it) as she had sevenshe might as well have eight, but her man said no, he would not have hisbairns fil't. Others would have taken her cordially for a few weeks ormonths, had they not known that at the end of this time they would beblamed, even by themselves, if they let her go. All, in short, wereeager to show her kindness if one would give her a home, but where wasthat one to be found?

Much of this talk came to Grizel through Tommy, and she told him in thehouse of Double Dykes that people need not trouble themselves about her, for she had no wish to stay with them. It was only charity they broughther; no one wanted her for herself. "It is because I am a child ofshame, " she told him, dry-eyed. 

He fidgeted on his chair, and asked, "What's that?" not very honestly. 

"I don't know, " she said, "no one will tell me, but it is something youcan't love. "

"You have a terrible wish to be loved, " he said in wonder, and shenodded her head wistfully. "That is not what I wish for most of all, though, " she told him, and when he asked what she wished for most ofall, she said, "To love somebody; oh, it would be sweet!"

To Tommy, most sympathetic of mortals, she seemed a very pathetic littlefigure, and tears came to his eyes as he surveyed her; he could alwayscry very easily. 

"If it wasna for Elspeth, " he began, stammering, "I could love you, butyou winna let a body do onything on the sly. "

It was a vague offer, but she understood, and became the old Grizel atonce. "I don't want you to love me, " she said indignantly; "I don'tthink you know how to love. "

"Neither can you know, then, " retorted Tommy, huffily, "for there'snobody for you to love. "

"Yes, there is, " she said, "and I do love her and she loves me. "

"But wha is she?"

"That girl. " To his amazement she pointed to her own reflection in thefamous mirror the size of which had scandalized Thrums. Tommy thoughtthis affection for herself barely respectable, but he dared not say solest he should be put to the door. "I love her ever so much, " Grizelwent on, "and she is so fond of me, she hates to see me unhappy. Don'tlook so sad, dearest, darlingest, " she cried vehemently; "I love you, you know, oh, you sweet!" and with each epithet she kissed herreflection and looked defiantly at the boy. 

"But you canna put your arms round her and hug her, " he pointed outtriumphantly, and so he had the last word after all. UnfortunatelyGrizel kept this side of her, new even to Tommy, hidden from all others, and her unresponsiveness lost her many possible friends. Even MissAilie, who now had a dressmaker in the blue-and-white room, sitting on abedroom chair and sewing for her life (oh, the agony--or is it therapture?--of having to decide whether to marry in gray with beads orbrown plain to the throat), even sympathetic Miss Ailie, having met withseveral rebuffs, said that Grizel had a most unaffectionate nature, and, "Ay, she's hardy, " agreed the town, "but it's better, maybe, forhersel'. " There are none so unpopular as the silent ones. 

If only Miss Ailie, or others like her, could have slipped noiselesslyinto Double Dykes at night, they would have found Grizel's pillow wet. But she would have heard them long before they reached the door, andjumped to the floor in terror, thinking it was her father's step atlast. For, unknown to anyone, his coming, which the town so anxiouslydesired, was her one dread. She had told Tommy what she should say tohim if he came, and Tommy had been awed and delighted, they were suchscathing things; probably, had the necessity arisen, she would havefound courage to say them, but they were made up in the daytime, and atnight they brought less comfort. Then she listened fearfully and longedfor the morning, wild ideas coursing through her head of flying beforehe could seize her; but when morning came it brought other thoughts, asof the strange remarks she had heard about her mamma and herself duringthe past few days. To brood over these was the most unhealthy occupationshe could find, but it was her only birthright. Many of the remarks cameunguardedly from lips that had no desire to pain her, others fell in arage because she would not tell what were the names in her letter toGod. The words that troubled her most, perhaps, were the doctor's, "Sheis a brave lass, but it must be in her blood. " They were not intendedfor her ears, but she heard. "What did he mean?" she asked Miss Ailie, Mrs. Dishart, and others who came to see her, and they repliedawkwardly, that it had only been a doctor's remark, of no importance topeople who were well. "Then why are you crying?" she demanded, lookingthem full in the face with eyes there was no deceiving. 

"Oh, why is everyone afraid to tell me the truth!" she would cry, beating her palms in anguish. 

She walked into McQueen's surgery and said, "Could you not cut it out?"so abruptly that he wondered what she was speaking about. 

"The bad thing that is in my blood, " she explained. "Do cut it out, Isha'n't scream. I promise not to scream. "

He sighed and answered, "If it could be cut out, lassie, I would try todo it, though it was the most dangerous of operations. "

She looked in anguish at him. "There are cleverer doctors than you, aren't there?" she asked, and he was not offended. 

"Ay, a hantle cleverer, " he told her, "but none so clever as that. Godhelp you, bairn, if you have to do it yourself some day. "

"Can I do it myself?" she cried, brightening. "I shall do it now. Is itdone with a knife?"

"With a sharper knife than a surgeon's, " he answered, and then, regretting he had said so much, he tried to cheer her. But that he couldnot do. "You are afraid to tell me the truth too, " she said, and whenshe went away he was very sorry for her, but not so sorry as she wasfor herself. "When I am grown up, " she announced dolefully, to Tommy, "Ishall be a bad woman, just like mamma. "

"Not if you try to be good, " he said. 

"Yes, I shall. There is something in my blood that will make me bad, andI so wanted to be good. Oh! oh! oh!"

She told him of the things she had heard people say, but though theyperplexed him almost as much as her, he was not so hopeless of learningtheir meaning, for here was just the kind of difficulty he liked toovercome. "I'll get it out o' Blinder, " he said, with confidence in hisingenuity, "and then I'll tell you what he says. " But however much hemight strive to do so, Tommy could never repeat anything without givingit frills and other adornment of his own making, and Grizel knew this. "I must hear what he says myself, " she insisted. 

"But he winna speak plain afore you. "

"Yes, he will, if he does not know I am there. "

The plot succeeded, though only partially, for so quick was the blindman's sense of hearing that in the middle of the conversation he said, sharply, "Somebody's ahint the dyke!" and he caught Grizel by theshoulder. "It's the Painted Lady's lassie, " he said when she screamed, and he stormed against Tommy for taking such advantage of his blindness. But to her he said, gently, "I daresay you egged him on to this, meaning well, but you maun forget most of what I've said, especiallyabout being in the blood. I spoke in haste, it doesna apply to the likeof you. "

"Yes, it does, " replied Grizel, and all that had been revealed to hershe carried hot to the surgery, Tommy stopping at the door in as greatperturbation as herself. "I know what being in the blood is now, " shesaid, tragically, to McQueen, "there is something about it in the Bible. I am the child of evil passions, and that means that I was born withwickedness in my blood. It is lying sleeping in me just now because I amonly thirteen, and if I can prevent its waking when I am grown up Ishall always be good, but a very little thing will waken it; it wants somuch to be wakened, and if it is once wakened it will run all throughme, and soon I shall be like mamma. "

It was all horribly clear to her, and she would not wait for words ofcomfort that could only obscure the truth. Accompanied by Tommy, whosaid nothing, but often glanced at her fascinated yet alarmed, as ifexpecting to see the ghastly change come over her at any moment--for hewas as convinced as she, and had the livelier imagination--she returnedto Monypenny to beg of Blinder to tell her one thing more. And he toldher, not speaking lightly, but because his words contained a solemnwarning to a girl who, he thought, might need it. 

"What sort of thing would be likeliest to waken the wickedness?" sheasked, holding her breath for the answer. 

"Keeping company wi' ill men, " said Blinder, gravely. 

"Like the man who made mamma wicked, like my father?"

"Ay, " Blinder replied, "fly from the like of him, my lass, though itshould be to the other end of the world. "

She stood quite still, with a most sorrowful face, and then ran away, ran so swiftly that when Tommy, who had lingered for a moment, came tothe door she was already out of sight. Scarcely less excited than she, he set off for Double Dykes, his imagination in such a blaze that helooked fearfully in the pools of the burn for a black frock. But Grizelhad not drowned herself; she was standing erect in her home, like one atbay, her arms rigid, her hands clenched, and when he pushed open thedoor she screamed. 

"Grizel, " said the distressed boy, "did you think I was him come foryou?"

"Yes!"

"Maybe he'll no come. The folk think he winna come. "

"But if he does, if he does!"

"Maybe you needna go wi' him unless you're willing?"

"I must, he can compel me, because he is my father. Oh! oh! oh!" Shelay down on the bed, and on her eyes there slowly formed the littlewells of water Tommy was to know so well in time. He stood by her sidein anguish; for though his own tears came at the first call, he couldnever face them in others. 

"Grizel, " he said impulsively, "there's just one thing for you to do. You have money, and you maun run away afore he comes!"

She jumped up at that. "I have thought of it, " she answered "I am alwaysthinking about it, but how can I, oh, now can I? It would not berespectable. "

"To run away?"

"To go by myself, " said the poor girl, "and I do want to be respectable, it would be sweet. "

In some ways Tommy was as innocent as she, and her reasoning seemed tohim to be sound. She was looking at him woefully, and entreaty was onher face; all at once he felt what a lonely little crittur she was, and, in a burst of manhood, --

"But, dinna prig wi' me to go with you, " he said, struggling. 

"I have not!" she answered, panting, and she had not in words, but themute appeal was still on her face. 

"Grizel, " he cried, "I'll come!"

Then she seized his hand and pressed it to her breast, saying, "Oh, Tommy, I am so fond of you!"

It was the first time she had admitted it, and his head wagged wellcontent, as if saying for him, "I knew you would understand me someday. " But next moment the haunting shadow that so often overtook him inthe act of soaring fell cold upon his mind, and "I maun take Elspeth!"he announced, as if Elspeth had him by the leg. 

"You sha'n't!" said Grizel's face. 

"She winna let go, " said Tommy's. 

Grizel quivered from top to toe. "I hate Elspeth!" she cried, withcurious passion, and the more moral Tommy was ashamed of her. 

"You dinna ken how fond o' her I am, " he said. 

"Yes, I do. "

"Then you shouldna want me to leave her and go wi' you. "

"That is why I want it, " Grizel blurted out, and now we are all ashamedof her. But fortunately Tommy did not see how much she had admitted inthat hasty cry, and as neither would give way to the other they partedstiffly, his last words being "Mind, it wouldna be respectable to go byyoursel', " and hers "I don't care, I'm going. " Nevertheless it was shewho slept easily that night, and he who tossed about almost untilcockcrow. She had only one ugly dream, of herself wandering from door todoor in a strange town, asking for lodgings, but the woman who answeredher weary knocks--there were many doors but it was invariably the samewoman--always asked, suspiciously, "Is Tommy with you?" and Grizel shookher head, and then the woman drove her away, perceiving that she wasnot respectable. This woke her, and she feared the dream would cometrue, but she clenched her fists in the darkness, saying, "I can't helpit, I am going, and I won't have Elspeth, " and after that she slept inpeace. In the meantime Tommy the imaginative--but that night he was notTommy, rather was he Grizel, for he saw her as we can only seeourselves. Now she--or he, if you will--had been caught by her fatherand brought back, and she turned into a painted thing like her mother. She brandished a brandy bottle and a stream of foul words ran lightlyfrom her mouth and suddenly stopped, because she was wailing "I wantedso to be good, it is sweet to be good!" Now a man with a beard waswhipping her, and Tommy felt each lash on his own body, so that he hadto strike out, and he started up in bed, and the horrible thing was thathe had never been asleep. Thus it went on until early morning, when hiseyes were red and his body was damp with sweat. 

But now again he was Tommy, and at first even to think of leavingElspeth was absurd. Yet it would be pleasant to leave Aaron, whodisliked him so much. To disappear without a word would be a finerevenge, for the people would say that Aaron must have ill-treated him, and while they searched the pools of the burn for his body, Aaron wouldbe looking on trembling, perhaps with a policeman's hand on hisshoulder. Tommy saw the commotion as vividly as if the searchers werealready out and he in a tree looking down at them; but in a second healso heard Elspeth skirling, and down he flung himself from the tree, crying, "I'm here, Elspeth, dinna greet; oh, what a brute I've been!"No, he could not leave Elspeth, how wicked of Grizel to expect it ofhim; she was a bad one, Grizel. 

But having now decided not to go, his sympathy with the girl who was tolose him returned in a rush, and before he went to school he besoughther to--it amounted to this, to be more like himself; that is, he beggedher to postpone her departure indefinitely, not to make up her minduntil to-morrow--or the day after--or the day after that. He producedreasons, as that she had only four pounds and some shillings now, whileby and by she might get the Painted Lady's money, at present in thebank; also she ought to wait for the money that would come to her fromthe roup of the furniture. But Grizel waived all argument aside; securein her four pounds and shillings she was determined to go to-night, forher father might be here to-morrow; she was going to London because itwas so big that no one could ever find her there, and she would never, never write to Tommy to tell him how she fared, lest the letter put herfather on her track. He implored her to write once, so that the moneyowing her might be forwarded, but even this bribe did not move her, andhe set off for school most gloomily. 

Cathro was specially aggravating that day, nagged him, said before thewhole school that he was a numskull, even fell upon him with the tawse, and for no earthly reason except that Tommy would not bother his headwith the _oratio obliqua_. If there is any kind of dominie moremaddening than another, it is the one who will not leave you alone (askany thoughtful boy). How wretched the lot of him whose life is castamong fools not capable of understanding him; what was that saying aboutentertaining angels unawares? London! Grizel had more than sufficientmoney to take two there, and once in London, a wonder such as himselfwas bound to do wondrous things. Now that he thought of it, to become aminister was abhorrent to him; to preach would be rather nice, oh, whatthings he should say (he began to make them up, and they were so grandthat he almost wept), but to be good after the sermon was over, alwaysto be good (even when Elspeth was out of the way), never to think queerunsayable things, never to say Stroke, never, in short, to "find away"--he was appalled. If it had not been for Elspeth--

So even Elspeth did not need him. When he went home from school, thinking only of her, he found that she had gone to the Auld Licht manseto play with little Margaret. Very well, if such was her wish, he wouldgo. Nobody wanted him except Grizel. Perhaps when news came from Londonof his greatness, they would think more of him. He would send a letterto Thrums, asking Mr. McLean to transfer his kindness to Elspeth. Thatwould show them what a noble fellow he was. Elspeth would really benefitby his disappearance; he was running away for Elspeth's sake. And whenhe was great, which would be in a few years, he would come back for her. 

But no, he--. The dash represents Tommy swithering once more, and he wasat one or other end of the swither all day. When he acted sharply it wasalways on impulse, and as soon as the die was cast he was a philosopherwith no regrets. But when he had time to reflect, he jumped miserablyback and forward. So when Grizel was ready to start, he did not know inthe least what he meant to do. 

She was to pass by the Cuttle Well, on her way to Tilliedrum, where shewould get the London train, he had been told coldly, and he could bethere at the time--if he liked. The time was seven o'clock in theevening on a week-day, when the lovers are not in the Den, and Tommyarrived first. When he stole through the small field that separatesMonypenny from the Den, his decision was--but on reaching the CuttleWell, its nearness to the uncanny Lair chilled his courage, and now hehad only come to bid her good-by. She was very late, and it suddenlystruck him that she had already set off. "After getting me to promise togo wi' her!" he said to himself at once. 

But Grizel came; she was only late because it had taken her such a longtime to say good-by to the girl in the glass. She was wearing her blackdress and lustre jacket, and carried in a bundle the few treasures shewas taking with her, and though she did not ask Tommy if he was coming, she cast a quick look round to see if he had a bundle anywhere, and hehad none. That told her his decision, and she would have liked to sitdown for a minute and cry, but of course she had too much pride, and shebade him farewell so promptly that he thought he had a grievance. "I'mcoming as far as the toll-house wi' you, " he said, sulkily, and so theystarted together. 

At the toll-house Grizel stopped. "It's a fine night, " said Tommy, almost apologetically, "I'll go as far as the quarry o' Benshee. "

When they came to the quarry he said, "We're no half-roads yet, I'll gowi' you as far as Padanarum. " Now she began to wonder and to glance athim sideways, which made him more uncomfortable than ever. To preventher asking him a question for which he had no answer, he said, "Whatmakes you look so little the day?"

"I am not looking little, " she replied, greatly annoyed, "I am lookingtaller than usual. I have let down my frock three inches so as to looktaller--and older. "

"You look younger than ever, " he said cruelly. 

"I don't! I look fifteen, and when you are fifteen you grow up veryquickly. Do say I look older!" she entreated anxiously. "It would makeme feel more respectable. "

But he shook his head with surprising obstinacy, and then she began toremark on his clothes, which had been exercising her curiosity eversince they left the Den. 

"How is it that you are looking so stout?" she asked. 

"I feel cold, but you are wiping the sweat off your face every minute. "

It was true, but he would have preferred not to answer. Grizel'squestions, however, were all so straight in the face, that there was nododging them. "I have on twa suits o' clothes, and a' my sarks, " he hadto admit, sticky and sullen. 

She stopped, but he trudged on doggedly. She ran after him and gave hisarm an impulsive squeeze with both hands, "Oh, you sweet!" she said. 

"No, I'm not, " he answered in alarm. 

"Yes you are! You are coming with me. "

"I'm not!"

"Then why did you put on so many clothes?"

Tommy swithered wretchedly on one foot. "I didna put them on to come wi'you, " he explained, "I just put them on in case I should come wi' you. "

"And are you not coming?"

"How can I ken?"

"But you must decide, " Grizel almost screamed. 

"I needna, " he stammered, "till we're at Tilliedrum. Let's speak aboutsome other thing. "

She rocked her arms, crying, "It is so easy to make up one's mind. "

"It's easy to you that has just one mind, " he retorted with spirit, "butif you had as many minds as I have--!"

On they went. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

THERE IS SOME ONE TO LOVE GRIZEL AT LAST

Corp was sitting on the Monypenny dyke, spitting on a candlestick andthen rubbing it briskly against his orange-colored trousers. The doctorpassing in his gig, both of them streaked, till they blended, with themud of Look-about-you road (through which you should drive winkingrapidly all the way), saw him and drew up. 

"Well, how is Grizel?" he asked. He had avoided Double Dykes since thefuneral, but vain had been his attempts to turn its little inmate out ofhis mind; there she was, against his will, and there, he now admitted tohimself angrily or with a rueful sigh, she seemed likely to remain untilsomeone gave her a home. It was an almost ludicrous distrust of himselfthat kept him away from her; he feared that if he went to Double Dykesher lonely face would complete his conquest. For oh, he was reluctant tobe got the better of, as he expressed it to himself. Maggy Ann, hismaid, was the ideal woman for a bachelor's house. When she saw himcoming she fled, guiltily concealing the hated duster; when he roaredat her for announcing that dinner was ready, she left him to eat it halfcold; when he spilled matches on the floor and then stepped upon themand set the rug on fire, she let him tell her that she should be morecareful; she did not carry off his favorite boots to the cobbler becausethey were down at heel; she did not fling up her arms in horror and crythat she had brushed that coat just five minutes ago; nor did she countthe treasured "dottels" on the mantelpiece to discover how many pipes hehad smoked since morning; nor point out that he had stepped over thedoor-mat; nor line her shelves with the new _Mentor_; nor give him uphis foot for sitting half the night with patients who could not pay--inshort, he knew the ways of the limmers, and Maggy Ann was a jewel. Butit had taken him a dozen years to bring her to this perfection, and wellhe knew that the curse of Eve, as he called the rage for the duster, slumbered in her rather than was extinguished. With the volcanic Grizelin the house, Maggy Ann would once more burst into flame, and thehorrified doctor looked to right of him, to left of him, before him andbehind him, and everywhere he seemed to see two new brooms bearing down. No, the brat, he would not have her; the besom, why did she bother him;the witches take her, for putting the idea into his head, nailing itinto his head indeed. But nevertheless he was forever urging otherpeople to adopt her, assuring them that they would find her a treasure, and even shaking his staff at them when they refused; and he was souneasy if he did not hear of her several times a day that he madeMonypenny the way to and from everywhere, so that he might drop intoartful talk with those who had seen her last. Corp, accordingly, was notsurprised at his "How is Grizel?" now, and he answered, between twospits, "She's fine; she gave me this. "

It was one of the Painted Lady's silver candlesticks, and the doctorasked sharply why Grizel had given it to him. 

"She said because she liked me, " Corp replied, wonderingly. "She broughtit to my auntie's door soon after I loused, and put it into my hand: ay, and she had a blue shawl, and she telled me to give it to Gavinia, because she liked her too. "

"What else did she say?"

Corp tried to think. "I said, 'This cows, Grizel, but thank youkindly, '" he answered, much pleased with his effort of memory, but thedoctor interrupted him rudely. "Nobody wants to hear what you said, youdottrel; what more did she say?" And thus encouraged Corp rememberedthat she had said she hoped he would not forget her. "What for should Iforget her when I see her ilka day?" he asked, and was probably about todivulge that this was his reply to her, but without waiting for more, McQueen turned his beast's head and drove to the entrance to the DoubleDykes. Here he alighted and hastened up the path on foot, but before hereached the house he met Dite Deuchars taking his ease beneath a tree, and Dite could tell him that Grizel was not at home. "But there'ssomebody in Double Dykes, " he said, "though I kenna wha could be thereunless it's the ghost of the Painted Lady hersel'. About an hour syne Isaw Grizel come out o' the house, carrying a bundle, but she hadna gonemany yards when she turned round and waved her hand to the east window. I couldna see wha was at it, but there maun have been somebody, forfirst the crittur waved to the window and next she kissed her hand toit, and syne she went on a bit, and syne she ran back close to thewindow and nodded and flung more kisses, and back and forrit she went acurran times as if she could hardly tear hersel' awa'. 'Wha's thatyou're so chief wi'?' I speired when she came by me at last, but shejust said, 'I won't tell you, ' in her dour wy, and she hasna come backyet. "

Whom could she have been saying good-by to so demonstratively, andwhither had she gone? With a curiosity that for the moment took theplace of his uneasiness, McQueen proceeded to the house, the door ofwhich was shut but not locked. Two glances convinced him that there wasno one here, the kitchen was as he had seen it last, except that thelong mirror had been placed on a chair close to the east window. Thedoctor went to the outside of the window, and looked in, he could seenothing but his own reflection in the mirror, and was completelypuzzled. But it was no time, he felt, for standing there scratching hishead, when there was reason to fear that the girl had gone. Gone where?He saw his selfishness now, in a glaring light, and it fled out of himpursued by curses. 

He stopped at Aaron's door and called for Tommy, but Tommy had left thehouse an hour ago. "Gone with her, the sacket; he very likely put her upto this, " the doctor muttered, and the surmise seemed justified when heheard that Grizel and Tommy had been seen passing the Fens. That theywere running away had never struck those who saw them, and McQueen saidnothing of his suspicions, but off he went in his gig on their track andran them down within a mile of Tilliedrum. Grizel scurried on, thinkingit was undoubtedly her father, but in a few minutes the three wereconversing almost amicably, the doctor's first words had been so"sweet. "

Tommy explained that they were out for a walk, but Grizel could not lie, and in a few passionate sentences she told McQueen the truth. He hadguessed the greater part of it, and while she spoke he looked so sorryfor her, such a sweet change had come over his manner, that she held hishand. 

"But you must go no farther, " he told her, "I am to take you back withme, " and that alarmed her. "I won't go back, " she said, determinedly, "he might come. "

"There's little fear of his coming, " McQueen assured her, gently, "butif he does come I give you my solemn word that I won't let him take youaway unless you want to go. "

Even then she only wavered, but he got her altogether with this: "Andshould he come, just think what a piece of your mind you could give him, with me standing by holding your hand. "

"Oh, would you do that?" she asked, brightening. 

"I would do a good deal to get the chance, " he said. 

"I should just love it!" she cried. "I shall come now, " and she steppedlight-heartedly into the gig, where the doctor joined her. Tommy, whohad been in the background all this time, was about to jump up besidethem, but McQueen waved him back, saying maliciously, "There's just roomfor two, my man, so I won't interfere with your walk. "

Tommy, in danger of being left, very hot and stout and sulky, whimpered, "What have I done to anger you?"

"You were going with her, you blackguard, " replied McQueen, not yet infull possession of the facts, for whether Tommy was or was not goingwith her no one can ever know. 

"If I was, " cried the injured boy, "it wasna because I wanted to go, itwas because it wouldna have been respectable for her to go by hersel'. "

The doctor had already started his shalt, but at these astonishingwords he drew up sharply. "Say that again, " ha said, as if thinking thathis ears must have deceived him, and Tommy repeated his remark, wondering at its effect. 

"And you tell me that you were going with her, " the doctor repeated, "tomake her enterprise more respectable?" and he looked from one to theother. 

"Of course I was, " replied Tommy, resenting his surprise at a thing soobvious; and "That's why I wanted him to come, " chimed in Grizel. 

Still McQueen's glance wandered from the boy to the girl and from thegirl to the boy. "You are a pair!" he said at last, and he signed insilence to Tommy to mount the gig. But his manner had alarmed Grizel, ever watching herself lest she should stray into the ways of bad ones, and she asked anxiously, "There was nothing wrong in it, was there?"

"No, " the doctor answered gravely, laying his hand on hers, "no, it wasjust sweet. "

 * * * * *

What McQueen had to say to her was not for Tommy's ears, and theconversation was but a makeshift until they reached Thrums, where hesent the boy home, recommending him to hold his tongue about theescapade (and Tommy of course saw the advisability of keeping it fromElspeth); but he took Grizel into his parlor and set her down on thebuffet stool by the fire, where he surveyed her in silence at hisleisure. Then he tried her in his old armchair, then on his sofa; thenhe put the _Mentor_ into her hand and told her to hold it as if it werea duster, then he sent her into the passage, with instructions to openthe door presently and announce "Dinner is ready;" then he told her toput some coals on the fire; then he told her to sit at the window, firstwith an open book in her hand, secondly as if she was busy knitting; andall these things she did wondering exceedingly, for he gave noexplanation except the incomprehensible one, "I want to see what itwould be like. "

She had told him in the gig why she had changed the position of themirror at Double Dykes, it was to let "that darling" wave good-by to herfrom the window; and now having experimented with her in his parlor hedrew her toward his chair, so that she stood between his knees. And heasked her if she understood why he had gone to Double Dykes. 

"Was it to get me to tell you what were the names in the letter?" shesaid, wistfully. "That is what everyone asks me, but I won't tell, no, Iwon't;" and she closed her mouth hard. 

He, too, would have liked to hear the names, and he sighed, it must beadmitted, at sight of that determined mouth, but he could saytruthfully, "Your refusal to break your promise is one of the thingsthat I admire in you. "

Admire! Grizel could scarce believe that this gift was for her. "Youdon't mean that you really like me?" she faltered, but she felt sure allthe time that he did, and she cried, "Oh, but why, oh, how can you!"

"For one reason, " he said, "because you are so good. "

"Good! Oh! oh! oh!" She clapped her hands joyously. 

"And for another--because you are so brave. "

"But I am not really brave, " she said anxiously, yet resolved to hidenothing, "I only pretend to be brave, I am often frightened, but I justdon't let on. "

That, he told her, is the highest form of bravery, but Grizel was very, very tired of being brave, and she insisted impetuously, "I don't wantto be brave, I want to be afraid, like other girls. "

"Ay, it's your right, you little woman, " he answered, tenderly, and thenagain he became mysterious. He kicked off his shoes to show her that hewas wearing socks that did not match. "I just pull on the first thatcome to hand, " he said recklessly. 

"Oh!" cried Grizel. 

On his dusty book-shelves he wrote, with his finger, "Not dusted sincethe year One. "

"Oh! oh!" she cried. 

He put his fingers through his gray, untidy hair. "That's the only combI have that is at hand when I want it, " he went on, regardless of heragony. 

"All the stud-holes in my shirts, " he said, "are now so frayed andlarge that the studs fall out, and I find them in my socks at night. "

Oh! oh! he was killing her, he was, but what cared he? "Look at myclothes, " said the cruel man, "I read when I'm eating, and I spill somuch gravy that--that we boil my waistcoat once a month, and make soupof it!"

To Grizel this was the most tragic picture ever drawn by man, and he sawthat it was time to desist. "And it's all, " he said, looking at hersadly, "it's all because I am a lonely old bachelor with no womankind tolook after him, no little girl to brighten him when he comes homedog-tired, no one to care whether his socks are in holes and his combbehind the wash-stand, no soft hand to soothe his brow when it aches, noone to work for, no one to love, many a one to close the old bachelor'seyes when he dies, but none to drop a tear for him, no one to--"

"Oh! oh! oh! That is just like me. Oh! oh!" cried Grizel, and he pulledher closer to him, saying, "The more reason we should join thegither;Grizel, if you don't take pity on me, and come and bide with me and bemy little housekeeper, the Lord Almighty only knows what is to become ofthe old doctor. "

At this she broke away from him, and stood far back pressing her arms toher sides, and she cried, "It is not out of charity you ask me, is it?"and then she went a little nearer. "You would not say it if it wasn'ttrue, would you?"

"No, my dawtie, it's true, " he told her, and if he had been pityinghimself a little, there was an end of that now. 

She remembered something and cried joyously, "And you knew what was inmy blood before you asked me, so I don't need to tell you, do I? And youare not afraid that I shall corrupt you, are you? And you don't think ita pity I didn't die when I was a tiny baby, do you? Some people thinkso, I heard them say it. "

"What would have become of me?" was all he dared answer in words, but hedrew her to him again, and when she asked if it was true, as she hadheard some woman say, that in some matters men were all alike, and didwhat that one man had done to her mamma, he could reply solemnly, "No, it is not true; it's a lie that has done more harm than any war in anycentury. "

She sat on his knee, telling him many things that had come recently toher knowledge but were not so new to him. The fall of woman was thesubject, a strange topic for a girl of thirteen and a man of sixty. Theydon't become wicked in a moment, he learned; if they are good to beginwith, it takes quite a long time to make them bad. Her mamma was good tobegin with. "I know she was good, because when she thought she was thegirl she used to be, she looked sweet and said lovely things. " The waythe men do is this, they put evil thoughts into the woman's head, andsay them often to her, till she gets accustomed to them, and thinks theycannot be bad when the man she loves likes them, and it is calledcorrupting the mind. 

"And then a baby comes to them, " Grizel said softly, "and it is called achild of shame. I am a child of shame. "

He made no reply, so she looked up, and his face was very old and sad. "I am sorry too, " she whispered, but still he said nothing, and then sheput her fingers on his eyes to discover if they were wet, and they werewet. And so Grizel knew that there was someone who loved her at last. 

The mirror was the only article of value that Grizel took with her toher new home; everything else was rouped at the door of Double Dykes;Tommy, who should have been at his books, acting as auctioneer's clerkfor sixpence. There are houses in Thrums where you may still be told whogot the bed and who the rocking-chair, and how Nether Drumgley's wifedared him to come home without the spinet; but it is not by the salesthat the roup is best remembered. Curiosity took many persons intoDouble Dykes that day, and in the room that had never been furnishedthey saw a mournful stack of empty brandy bottles, piled there by theauctioneer who had found them in every corner, beneath the bed, inpresses, in boxes, whither they had been thrust by Grizel's mamma, asif to conceal their number from herself. The counting of these bottleswas a labor, but it is not even by them that the roup is remembered. Among them some sacrilegious hands found a bundle of papers with a sadblue ribbon round them. They were the Painted Lady's love-letters, theletters she had written to the man. Why or how they had come back to herno one knew. 

Most of them were given to Grizel, but a dozen or more passed withouther leave into the kists of various people, where often since then theyhave been consulted by swains in need of a pretty phrase; and Tommy'sschool-fellows, the very boys and girls who hooted the Painted Lady, were in time--so oddly do things turn out--to be among those whom herletters taught how to woo. Where the kists did not let in the damp orcareless fingers, the paper long remained clean, the ink but littlefaded. Some of the letters were creased, as if they had once been muchfolded, perhaps for slipping into secret hiding-places, but none of thembore any address or a date. "To my beloved, " was sometimes written onthe cover, and inside he was darling or beloved again. So no one couldhave arranged them in the order in which they were written, though therewas a three-cornered one which said it was the first. There was a violetin it, clinging to the paper as if they were fond of each other, andGrizel's mamma had written, "The violet is me, hiding in a cornerbecause I am so happy. " The letters were in many moods, playful, reflective, sad, despairing, arch, but all were written in an ecstasy ofthe purest love, and most of them were cheerful, so that you seemed tosee the sun dancing on the paper while she wrote, the same sun thatafterwards showed up her painted cheeks. Why they came back to her noone ever discovered, any more than how she who slipped the violet intothat three-cornered one and took it out to kiss again and wrote, "It ismy first love-letter, and I love it so much I am reluctant to let itgo, " became in a few years the derision of the Double Dykes. Some ofthese letters may be in old kists still, but whether that is so or not, they alone have passed the Painted Lady's memory from one generation toanother, and they have purified it, so that what she was died with hervile body, and what she might have been lived on, as if it were her trueself. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

WHO TOLD TOMMY TO SPEAK

"Miss Alison Cray presents her compliments to--and requests the favor oftheir company at her marriage with Mr. Ivie McLean, on January 8th, atsix o'clock. "

Tommy in his Sabbath clothes, with a rose from the Dovecot hot-house forbuttonhole (which he slipped into his pocket when he saw other boysapproaching), delivered them at the doors of the aristocracy, where, bythe way, he had been a few weeks earlier, with another circular. 

"Miss Alison Cray being about to give up school, has pleasure in statingthat she has disposed of the good-will of her establishment to MissJessy Langlands and Miss S. Oram, who will enter upon their scholasticduties on January 9th, at Hoods Cottage, where she most cordially, " andso on. 

Here if the writer dared (but you would be so angry) he would introduceat the length of a chapter two brand-new characters, the MissesLanglands and Oram, who suddenly present themselves to him in the mostsympathetic light. Miss Ailie has been safely stowed to port, but theirlittle boat is only setting sail, and they are such young ones, neitherout of her teens, that he would fain turn for a time from her to them. Twelve pounds they paid for the good-will, and, oh, the excitingdiscussions, oh, the scraping to get the money together! If little MissLanglands had not been so bold, big Miss Oram must have drawn back, butif Miss Oram had not had that idea about a paper partition, of whatavail the boldness of Miss Langlands? How these two trumps of girlssucceeded in hiring the Painted Lady's spinet from Nether Drumgley--inthe absence of his wife, who on her way home from buying a cochin-chinamet the spinet in a cart--how the mother of one of them, realizing in aklink that she was common no more, henceforth wore black caps instead ofmutches (but the father dandered on in the old plebeian way), what theenterprise meant to a young man in distant Newcastle, whose favoritename was Jessy, how the news travelled to still more distant Canada, where a family of emigrants which had left its Sarah behind in Thrums, could talk of nothing else for weeks--it is hard to have to pass onwithout dwelling on these things, and indeed--but pass on we must. 

The chief figure at the wedding of Miss Ailie was undoubtedly Mr. T. Sandys. When one remembers his prominence, it is difficult to think thatthe wedding could have taken place without him. It was he (in hisSabbath clothes again, and now flaunting his buttonhole brazenly) whoin insulting language ordered the rabble to stand back there. It was hewho dashed out to the 'Sosh to get a hundred ha'pennies for the fiftypennies Mr. McLean had brought to toss into the air. It was he who wentround in the carriage to pick up the guests and whisked them in and out, and slammed the door, and saw to it that the minister was not keptwaiting, and warned Miss Ailie that if she did not come now they shouldbegin without her. It was he who stood near her with a handkerchiefready in his hand lest she took to crying on her new brown silk (MissAilie was married in brown silk after all). As a crown to his audacity, it was he who told Mr. Dishart, in the middle of a noble passage, tomind the lamp. 

These duties were Dr. McQueen's, the best man, but either demoralized bythe bridegroom, who went all to pieces at the critical moment and wasmuch more nervous than the bride, or in terror lest Grizel, who had senthim to the wedding speckless and most beautifully starched, shouldsuddenly appear at the door and cry, "Oh, oh, take your fingers off yourshirt!" he was through other till the knot was tied, and then it was toolate, for Tommy had made his mark. It was Tommy who led the way to theschool-room, where the feast was ready, it was Tommy who put the guestsin their places (even the banker cringed to him), it was. Tommy whowinked to Mr. Dishart as a sign to say grace. As you will readilybelieve, Miss Ailie could not endure the thought of excluding herpupils from the festivities, and they began to arrive as soon as thetables had been cleared of all save oranges and tarts and raisins. Tommy, waving Gavinia aside, showed them in, and one of them, curious totell, was Corp, in borrowed blacks, and Tommy shook hands with him andcalled him Mr. Shiach, both new experiences to Corp, who knocked over atable in his anxiety to behave himself, and roared at intervals "Do yousee the little deevil!" and bit his warts and then politely swallowedthe blood. 

As if oranges and tarts and raisins were not enough, came the Punch andJudy show, Tommy's culminating triumph. All the way to Redlintie had Mr. McLean sent for the Punch and Judy show, and nevertheless there was aprobability of no performance, for Miss Ailie considered the showimmoral. Most anxious was she to give pleasure to her pupils, and thisshe knew was the best way, but how could she countenance anentertainment which was an encouragement to every form of vice andcrime? To send these children to the Misses Langlands and Oram, freshfrom an introduction to the comic view of murder! It could not be done, now could it? Mr. McLean could make no suggestion. Mr. Dishart thoughtit would be advisable to substitute another entertainment; was there nota game called "The Minister's Cat"? Mrs. Dishart thought they shouldhave the show and risk the consequences. So also thought Dr. McQueen. The banker was consulted, but saw no way out of the difficulty, nor didthe lawyer, nor did the Misses Finlayson. Then Tommy appeared on thescene, and presently retired to find a way. 

He found it. The performance took place, and none of the fun wasomitted, yet neither Miss Ailie--tuts, tuts Mrs. McLean--nor Mr. Dishartcould disapprove. Punch did chuck his baby out at the window (roars oflaughter) in his jovial time-honored way, _but_ immediately thereafterup popped the showman to say, "Ah, my dear boys and girls, let this be alesson to you never to destroy your offsprings. Oh, shame on Punch, forto do the wicked deed; he will be catched in the end and serve himright. " Then when Mr. Punch had wolloped his wife with the stick, amidthunders of applause, up again bobbed the showman, "Ah, my dear boys andgirls, what a lesson is this we sees, what goings on is this? He havebashed the head of her as should ha' been the apple of his eye, and hedoes not care a--he does not care; but mark my words, his home it willnow be desolate, no more shall she meet him at his door with kindlysmile, he have done for her quite, and now he is a hunted man. Oh, bewarned by his sad igsample, and do not bash the head of your lovingwife. " And there was a great deal more of the same, and simple Mrs. McLean almost wept tears of joy because her favorite's good heart hadsuggested these improvements. 

Grizel was not at the wedding; she was invited, but could not gobecause she was in mourning. But only her parramatty frock was inmourning, for already she had been the doctor's housekeeper for two fullmonths, and her father had not appeared to plague her (he never didappear, it may be told at once), and so how could her face be woefulwhen her heart leapt with gladness? Never had prisoner pined for thefields more than this reticent girl to be frank, and she poured out herinmost self to the doctor, so that daily he discovered somethingbeautiful (and exasperating) about womanhood. And it was his love forher that had changed her. "You do love me, don't you?" she would say, and his answer might be "I have told you that fifty times already;" towhich she would reply, gleefully, "That is not often, I say it all dayto myself. "

Exasperating? Yes, that was the word. Long before summer came, thedoctor knew that he had given himself into the hands of a tyrant. It wasidle his saying that this irregularity and that carelessness were habitsthat had become part of him; she only rocked her arms impatiently, andif he would not stand still to be put to rights, then she would followhim along the street, brushing him as he walked, a sight that waswitnessed several times while he was in the mutinous stage. 

"Talk about masterfulness, " he would say, when she whipped off his coator made a dart at the mud on his trousers; "you are the most masterfullittle besom I ever clapped eyes on. "

But as he said it he perhaps crossed his legs, and she immediatelycried, "You have missed two holes in lacing your boots!"

Of a morning he would ask her sarcastically to examine him from top totoe and see if he would do, and examine him she did, turning him round, pointing out that he had been sitting "again" on his tails, that oh, oh, he must have cut that buttonhole with his knife. He became most artfulin hiding deficiencies from her, but her suspicions once roused wouldnot sleep, and all subterfuge was vain. "Why have you buttoned your coatup tight to the throat to-day?" she would demand sternly. 

"It is such a cold morning, " he said. 

"That is not the reason, " she replied at once (she could see throughbroadcloth at a glance), "I believe you have on the old necktie again, and you promised to buy a new one. "

"I always forget about it when I'm out, " he said humbly, and nextevening he found on his table a new tie, made by Grizel herself out ofher mamma's rokelay. 

It was related by one who had dropped in at the doctor's houseunexpectedly, that he found Grizel making a new shirt, and forcing thedoctor to try on the sleeves while they were still in the pin stage. 

She soon knew his every want, and just as he was beginning to want it, there it was at his elbow. He realized what a study she had made of himwhen he heard her talking of his favorite dishes and his favorite seat, and his way of biting his underlip when in thought, and how hard he wason his left cuff. It had been one of his boasts that he had no favoritedishes, etc. , but he saw now that he had been a slave to them for yearswithout knowing it. 

She discussed him with other mothers as if he were her little boy, andhe denounced her for it. But all the time she was spoiling him. Formerlyhe had got on very well when nothing was in its place. Now he roaredhelplessly if he mislaid his razor. 

He was determined to make a lady of her, which necessitated her beingsent to school; she preferred hemming, baking and rubbing things tillthey shone, and not both could have had their way (which sounds fatalfor the man), had they not arranged a compromise, Grizel, for instance, to study geography for an hour in the evening with Miss Langlands (go toschool in the daytime she would not) so long as the doctor shaved everymorning, but if no shave no geography; the doctor to wipe his pen on theblot-sheet instead of on the lining of his coat if she took threelessons a week from Miss Oram on the spinet. How happy and proud shewas! Her glee was a constant source of wonder to McQueen. Perhaps sheput on airs a little, her walk, said the critical, had become a strut;but how could she help that when the new joyousness of living wasdancing and singing within her?

Had all her fears for the future rolled away like clouds that leave nomark behind? The doctor thought so at times, she so seldom spoke of themto him; he did not see that when they came she hid them from him becauseshe had discovered that they saddened him. And she had so little time tobrood, being convinced of the sinfulness of sitting still, that if theclouds came suddenly, they never stayed long save once, and then it was, mayhap, as well. The thunderclap was caused by Tommy, who brought it onunintentionally and was almost as much scared by his handiwork as Grizelherself. She and he had been very friendly of late, partly because theyshared with McQueen the secret of the frustrated elopement, partlybecause they both thought that in that curious incident Tommy hadbehaved in a most disinterested and splendid way. Grizel had not beensure of it at first, but it had grown on Tommy, he had so thoroughlyconvinced himself of his intention to get into the train with her atTilliedrum that her doubts were dispelled--easily dispelled, you say, but the truth must be told, Grizel was very anxious to be rid of them. And Tommy's were honest convictions, born full grown of a desire forhappiness to all. Had Elspeth discovered how nearly he had deserted her, the same sentiment would have made him swear to her with tears thatnever should he have gone farther than Tilliedrum, and while he waspersuading her he would have persuaded himself. Then again, when he metGrizel--well, to get him in doubt it would have been necessary to catchhim on the way between these two girls. 

So Tommy and Grizel were friends, and finding that it hurt the doctor tospeak on a certain subject to him, Grizel gave her confidences to Tommy. She had a fear, which he shared on its being explained to him, that shemight meet a man of the stamp of her father, and grow fond of him beforeshe knew the kind he was, and as even Tommy could not suggest aninfallible test which would lay them bare at the first glance, heconsented to consult Blinder once more. He found the blind man by hisfire-side, very difficult to coax into words on the important topic, butTommy's "You've said ower much no to tell a bit more, " seemed to impresshim, and he answered the question, --

"You said a woman should fly frae the like o' Grizel's father though itshould be to the other end of the world, but how is she to ken that he'sthat kind?"

"She'll ken, " Blinder answered after thinking it over, "if she likes himand fears him at one breath, and has a sort of secret dread that he'sgetting a power ower her that she canna resist. "

These words were a flash of light on a neglected corner to Tommy. "Now Isee, now I ken, " he exclaimed, amazed; "now I ken what my mother meant!Blinder, is that no the kind of man that's called masterful?"

"It's what poor women find them and call them to their cost, " saidBlinder. 

Tommy's excitement was prodigious. "Now I ken, now I see!" he cried, slapping his leg and stamping up and down the room. 

"Sit down!" roared his host. 

"I canna, " retorted the boy. "Oh, to think o't, to think I came to speirthat question at you, to think her and me has wondered what kind he was, and I kent a' the time!" Without staying to tell Blinder what he wasblethering about, he hurried off to Grizel, who was waiting for him inthe Den, and to her he poured out his astonishing news. 

"I ken all about them, I've kent since afore I came to Thrums, butthough I generally say the prayer, I've forgot to think o' what itmeans. " In a stampede of words he told her all he could remember of hismother's story as related to him on a grim night in London so long ago, and she listened eagerly. And when that was over, he repeated first hisprayer and then Elspeth's, "O God, whatever is to be my fate, may Inever be one of them that bow the knee to masterful man, and if I wasborn like that and canna help it, O take me up to heaven afore I'mfil't. " Grizel repeated it after him until she had it by heart, and evenas she said it a strange thing happened, for she began to draw backfrom Tommy, with a look of terror on her face. 

"What makes you look at me like that?" he cried. 

"I believe--I think--you are masterful, " she gasped. 

"Me!" he retorted indignantly. 

"Now, " she went on, waving him back, "now I know why I would not give into you when you wanted me to be Stroke's wife. I was afraid you weremasterful!"

"Was that it?" cried Tommy. 

"Now, " she proceeded, too excited to heed his interruptions, "now I knowwhy I would not kiss your hand, now I know why I would not say I likedyou. I was afraid of you, I--"

"Were you?" His eyes began to sparkle, and something very like rapturewas pushing the indignation from his face. "Oh, Grizel, have I a powerower you?"

"No, you have not, " she cried passionately. "I was just frightened thatyou might have. Oh, oh, I know you now!"

"To think o't, to think o't!" he crowed, wagging his head, and then sheclenched her fist, crying, "Oh, you wicked, you should cry with shame!"

But he had his answer ready, "It canna be my wite, for I never kent o'ttill you telled me. Grizel, it has just come about without either of uskenning!"

She shuddered at this, and then seized him by the shoulders. "It hasnot come about at all, " she said, "I was only frightened that it mightcome, and now it can't come, for I won't let it. "

"But can you help yoursel'?"

"Yes, I can. I shall never be friends with you again. "

She had such a capacity for keeping her word that this alarmed him, andhe did his best to extinguish his lights. "I'm no masterful, Grizel, " hesaid, "and I dinna want to be, it was just for a minute that I liked thethought. " She shook her head, but his next words had more effect. "If Ihad been that kind, would I have teached you Elspeth's prayer?"

"N-no, I don't think so, " she said slowly, and perhaps he would havesucceeded in soothing her, had not a sudden thought brought back theterror to her face. 

"What is 't now?" he asked. 

"Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, "and I nearly went away with you!" and withoutanother word she fled from the Den. She never told the doctor of thisincident, and in time it became a mere shadow in the background, so thatshe was again his happy housekeeper, but that was because she had foundstrength to break with Tommy. She was only an eager little girl, pathetically ignorant about what she wanted most to understand, but shesaw how an instinct had been fighting for her, and now it should nothave to fight alone. How careful she became! All Tommy's wiles werevain, she would scarcely answer if he spoke to her; if he had everpossessed a power over her it was gone, Elspeth's prayer had saved her. 

Jean Myles had told Tommy to teach that prayer to Elspeth; but who hadtold him to repeat it to Grizel?

CHAPTER XXXV

THE BRANDING OF TOMMY

Grizel's secession had at least one good effect: it gave Tommy more timein which to make a scholar of himself. Would you like a picture of Tommytrying to make a scholar of himself?

They all helped him in their different ways: Grizel, by declining hiscompany; Corp, by being far away at Look-about-you, adding to the inchesof a farm-house; Aaron Latta, by saying nothing but looking "college orthe herding;" Mr. McLean, who had settled down with Ailie at theDovecot, by inquiries about his progress; Elspeth by--but did Elspeth'stalks with him about how they should live in Aberdeen and afterwards(when they were in the big house) do more than send his mind a-galloping(she holding on behind) along roads that lead not to Aberdeen? Whatdrove Tommy oftenest to the weary drudgery was, perhaps, the alarm thatcame over him when he seemed of a sudden to hear the names of thebursars proclaimed and no Thomas Sandys among them. Then did he shudder, for well he knew that Aaron would keep his threat, and he hastilycovered the round table with books and sat for hours sorrowfullypecking at them, every little while to discover that his mind had soaredto other things, when he hauled it back, as one draws in a reluctantkite. On these occasions Aaron seldom troubled him, except by glancesthat, nevertheless, brought the kite back more quickly than if they hadbeen words of warning. If Elspeth was present, the warper might sitmoodily by the fire, but when the man and the boy were left together, one or other of them soon retired, as if this was the only way ofpreserving the peace. Though determined to keep his word to Jean Mylesliberally, Aaron had never liked Tommy, and Tommy's avoidance of him iseasily accounted for; he knew that Aaron did not admire him, and unlessyou admired Tommy he was always a boor in your presence, shy andself-distrustful. Especially was this so if you were a lady (howamazingly he got on in after years with some of you, what agony othersendured till he went away!), and it is the chief reason why there aresuch contradictory accounts of him to-day. 

Sometimes Mr. Cathro had hopes of him other than those that could onlybe revealed in a shameful whisper with the door shut. "Not so bad, " hemight say to Mr. McLean; "if he keeps it up we may squeeze him throughyet, without trusting to--to what I was fool enough to mention to you. The mathematics are his weak point, there's nothing practical about him(except when it's needed to carry out his devil's designs) and he caresnot a doit about the line A B, nor what it's doing in the circle K, butthere's whiles he surprises me when we're at Homer. He has the spirito't, man, even when he bogles at the sense. "

But the next time Ivie called for a report--!

In his great days, so glittering, so brief (the days of the penny Life)Tommy, looking back to this year, was sure that he had never reallytried to work. But he had. He did his very best, doggedly, wearilysitting at the round table till Elspeth feared that he was killinghimself and gave him a melancholy comfort by saying so. An hourafterwards he might discover that he had been far away from his books, looking on at his affecting death and counting the mourners at thefuneral. 

Had he thought that Grizel's discovery was making her unhappy he wouldhave melted at once, but never did she look so proud as when shescornfully passed him by, and he wagged his head complacently over hercoming chagrin when she heard that he had carried the highest bursary. Then she would know what she had flung away. This should have helped himto another struggle with his lexicon, but it only provided a breeze forthe kite, which flew so strong that he had to let go the string. 

Aaron and the Dominie met one day in the square, and to Aaron's surpriseMr. Cathro's despondency about Tommy was more pronounced than before. "I wonder at that, " the warper said, "for I assure you he has beenharder 'at it than ever thae last nights. What's more, he used to lookdoleful as he sat at his table, but I notice now that he's as sweer toleave off as he's keen to begin, and the face of him is a' eagernesstoo, and he reads ower to himself what he has wrote and wags his head atit as if he thought it grand. "

"Say you so?" asked Cathro, suspiciously; "does he leave what he writeslying about, Aaron?"

"No, but he takes it to you, does he no'?"

"Not him, " said the Dominie, emphatically. "I may be mistaken, Aaron, but I'm doubting the young whelp is at his tricks again. "

The Dominie was right, and before many days passed he discovered whatwas Tommy's new and delicious occupation. 

For years Mr. Cathro had been in the habit of writing letters for suchof the populace as could not guide a pen, and though he often told themnot to come deaving him he liked the job, unexpected presents of a henor a ham occasionally arriving as his reward, while the personal mattersthus confided to him, as if he were a safe for the banking of privatehistories, gave him and his wife gossip for winter nights. Of late thenumber of his clients had decreased without his noticing it, soconfident was he that they could not get on without him, but hereceived a shock at last from Andrew Dickie, who came one Saturday nightwith paper, envelope, a Queen's head, and a request for a letter forBell Birse, now of Tilliedrum. 

"You want me to speir in your name whether she'll have you, do you?"asked Cathro, with a flourish of his pen. 

"It's no just so simple as that, " said Andrew, and then he seemed to berather at a loss to say what it was. "I dinna ken, " he continuedpresently with a grave face, "whether you've noticed that I'm a geyqueer deevil? Losh, I think I'm the queerest deevil I ken. "

"We are all that, " the Dominie assured him. "But what do you want me towrite?"

"Well, it's like this, " said Andrew, "I'm willing to marry her if she'sagreeable, but I want to make sure that she'll take me afore I speirher. I'm a proud man, Dominie. "

"You're a sly one!"

"Am I no!" said Andrew, well pleased. "Well, could you put the letter inthat wy?"

"I wouldna, " replied Mr. Cathro, "though I could, and I couldna though Iwould. It would defy the face of clay to do it, you canny lover. "

Now, the Dominie had frequently declined to write as he was bidden, andhad suggested alterations which were invariably accepted, but to hisastonishment Andrew would not give in. "I'll be stepping, then, " hesaid coolly, "for if you hinna the knack o't I ken somebody that has. "

"Who?" demanded the irate Dominie. 

"I promised no to tell you, " replied Andrew, and away he went. Mr. Cathro expected him to return presently in humbler mood, but wasdisappointed, and a week or two afterwards he heard Andrew and Mary JaneProctor cried in the parish church. "Did Bell Birse refuse him?" heasked the kirk officer, and was informed that Bell had never got achance. "His letter was so cunning, " said John, "that without speiringher, it drew ane frae her in which she let out that she was centred onDavit Allardyce. "

"But who wrote Andrew's letter?" asked Mr. Cathro, sharply. 

"I thought it had been yoursel', " said John, and the Dominie chafed, andlost much of the afternoon service by going over in his mind the namesof possible rivals. He never thought of Tommy. 

Then a week or two later fell a heavier blow. At least twice a year theDominie had written for Meggy Duff to her daughter in Ireland a longletter founded on this suggestion, "Dear Kaytherine, if you dinna sendten shillings immediately, your puir auld mother will have neither housenor hame. I'm crying to you for't, Kaytherine; hearken and you'll hearmy cry across the cauldriff sea. " He met Meggy in the Banker's Close oneday, and asked her pleasantly if the time was not drawing nigh foranother appeal. 

"I have wrote, " replied the old woman, giving her pocket a boastfulsmack, which she thus explained, "And it was the whole ten shillingsthis time, and you never got more for me than five. "

"Who wrote the letter for you?" he asked, lowering. 

She, too, it seemed, had promised not to tell. 

"Did you promise to tell nobody, Meggy, or just no to tell me, " hepressed her, of a sudden suspecting Tommy. 

"Just no to tell you, " she answered, and at that. 

"Da-a-a, " began the Dominie, and then saved his reputation by adding"gont. " The derivation of the word dagont has puzzled many, but here weseem to have it. 

It is interesting to know what Tommy wrote. The general opinion was thathis letter must have been a triumph of eloquent appeal, and indeed hehad first sketched out several masterpieces, all of some length and indifferent styles, but on the whole not unlike the concoctions of Meggy'sformer secretary; that is, he had dwelt on the duties of daughters, onthe hardness of the times, on the certainty that if Katherine helpedthis time assistance would never be needed again. This sort of thing hadalways satisfied the Dominie, but Tommy, despite his several attempts, had a vague consciousness that there was something second-rate aboutthem, and he tapped on his brain till it responded. The letter hedespatched to Ireland, but had the wisdom not to read aloud even toMeggy, contained nothing save her own words, "Dear Kaytherine, if youdinna send ten shillings immediately, your puir auld mother will haveneither house nor hame. I'm crying to you for't, Kaytherine; hearken andyou'll hear my cry across the cauldriff sea. " It was a call from theheart which transported Katherine to Thrums in a second of time, sheseemed to see her mother again, grown frail since last they met--and soall was well for Meggy. Tommy did not put all this to himself but hefelt it, and after that he _could not_ have written the letterdifferently. Happy Tommy! To be an artist is a great thing, but to be anartist and not know it is the most glorious plight in the world. 

Other fickle clients put their correspondence into the boy's hands, andCathro found it out but said nothing. Dignity kept him in check; he didnot even let the tawse speak for him. So well did he dissemble thatTommy could not decide how much he knew, and dreaded his getting hold ofsome of the letters, yet pined to watch his face while he read them. This could not last forever. Mr. Cathro was like a haughty kettle whichhas choked its spout that none may know it has come a-boil, and we allknow what in that event must happen sooner or later to the lid. 

The three boys who had college in the tail of their eye had certainprivileges not for the herd. It was taken for granted that whenknowledge came their way they needed no overseer to make them standtheir ground, and accordingly for great part of the day they had a backbench to themselves, with half a dozen hedges of boys and girls betweenthem and the Dominie. From his chair Mr. Cathro could not see them, buta foot-board was nailed to it, and when he stood on this, as he had anaggravating trick of doing, softly and swiftly, they were suddenly inview. A large fire had been burning all day and the atmosphere wassoporific. Mr. Cathro was so sleepy himself that the sight of a noddinghead enraged him like a caricature, and he was on the foot-boardfrequently for the reason that makes bearded men suck peppermints inchurch. Against his better judgment he took several peeps at Tommy, whomhe had lately suspected of writing his letters in school or at least ofgloating over them on that back bench. To-day he was sure of it. Howeverabsorbing Euclid may be, even the forty-seventh of the first book doesnot make you chuckle and wag your head; you can bring a substantive inVirgil back to the verb that has lost it without looking as if you wouldlike to exhibit them together in the square. But Tommy was thus elateduntil he gave way to grief of the most affecting kind. Now he lookedgloomily before him as if all was over, now he buried his face in hishands, next his eyes were closed as if in prayer. All this the Dominiestood from him, but when at last he began to blubber--

At the blackboard was an arithmetic class, slates in hand, each memberadding up aloud in turn a row of figures. By and by it was known thatCathro had ceased to listen. "Go on, " his voice rather than himselfsaid, and he accepted Mary Dundas's trembling assertion that four andseven make ten. Such was the faith in Cathro that even boys who couldadd promptly turned their eleven into ten, and he did not catch them atit. So obviously was his mind as well as his gaze on, something beyond, that Sandy Riach, a wit who had been waiting his chance for years, snapped at it now, and roared "Ten and eleven, nineteen" ("Go on, " saidCathro), "and four, twenty, " gasped Sandy, "and eight, sixteen, " headded, gaining courage. "Very good, " nmrmured the Dominie, whereuponSandy clenched his reputation forever by saying, in one gloriousmouthful, "and six, eleven, and two, five, and one, nocht. "

There was no laughing at it then (though Sandy held a levee in theevening), they were all so stricken with amazement. By one movement theyswung round to see what had fascinated Cathro, and the other classesdoing likewise, Tommy became suddenly the centre of observation. Bigtears were slinking down his face, and falling on some sheets of paper, which emotion prevented his concealing. Anon the unusual stillness inthe school made him look up, but he was dazed, like one uncertain of hiswhereabouts, and he blinked rapidly to clear his eyes, as a bird shakeswater from its wings. 

Mr. Cathro first uttered what was afterward described as a kind ofthrottled skirl, and then he roared "Come here!" whereupon Tommy steppedforward heavily, and tried, as commanded, to come to his senses, but itwas not easy to make so long a journey in a moment, and several times, as he seemed about to conquer his fears, a wave of feeling set themflowing again. 

"Take your time, " said Mr. Cathro, grimly, "I can wait, " and this hadsuch a helpful effect that Tommy was able presently to speak up for hismisdeeds. They consisted of some letters written at home but brought tothe school for private reading, and the Dominie got a nasty jar when hesaw that they were all signed "Betsy Grieve. " Miss Betsy Grieve, servantto Mr. Duthie, was about to marry, and these letters wereacknowledgments of wedding presents. Now, Mr. Cathro had written similarletters for Betsy only a few days before. 

"Did she ask you to write these for her?" he demanded, fuming, and Tommyreplied demurely that she had. He could not help adding, though he feltthe unwisdom of it, "She got some other body to do them first, but hisletters didna satisfy her. "

"Oh!" said Mr. Cathro, and it was such a vicious oh that Tommy squeakedtremblingly, "I dinna know who he was. "

Keeping his mouth shut by gripping his underlip with his teeth, theDominie read the letters, and Tommy gazed eagerly at him, all fearforgotten, soul conquering body. The others stood or sat waiting, perplexed as to the cause, confident of the issue. The letters were muchfiner productions than Cathro's, he had to admit it to himself as heread. Yet the rivals had started fair, for Betsy was a recent immigrantfrom Dunkeld way, and the letters were to people known neither to Tommynor to the Dominie. Also, she had given the same details for theguidance of each. A lady had sent a teapot, which affected to be new, but was not; Betsy recognized it by a scratch on the lid, and wanted toscratch back, but politely. So Tommy wrote, "When you come to see me weshall have a cup of tea out of your beautiful present, and it will belike a meeting of three old friends. " That was perhaps too polite, Betsyfeared, but Tommy said authoritatively, "No, the politer the nippier. "

There was a set of six cups and saucers from Peter something, who hadloved Betsy in vain. She had shown the Dominie and Tommy the ear-ringsgiven her long ago by Peter (they were bought with 'Sosh checks) and thepoem he had written about them, and she was most anxious to gratify himin her reply. All Cathro could do, however, was to wish Peter well insome ornate sentences, while Tommy's was a letter that only a tenderwoman's heart could have indited, with such beautiful touches about thedays which are no more alas forever, that Betsy listened to it withheaving breast and felt so sorry for her old swain that, forgetting shehad never loved him, she all but gave Andrew the go-by and returned toPeter. As for Peter, who had been getting over his trouble, he saw nowfor the first time what he had lost, and he carried Betsy's dear letterin his oxter pocket and was inconsolable. 

But the masterpiece went to Mrs. Dinnie, baker, in return for a flagonbun. Long ago her daughter, Janet, and Betsy had agreed to marry on thesame day, and many a quip had Mrs. Dinnie cast at their romanticcompact. But Janet died, and so it was a sad letter that Tommy had towrite to her mother. "I'm doubting you're no auld enough for this ane, "soft-hearted Betsy said, but she did not know her man. "Tell me some onething the mother used often to say when she was taking her fun off thepair of you, " he said, and "Where is she buried?" was a suggestivequestion, with the happy tag, "Is there a tree hanging over the grave?"Thus assisted, he composed a letter that had a tear in every sentence. Betsy rubbed her eyes red over it, and not all its sentiments wereallowed to die, for Mrs. Dinnie, touched to the heart, printed the bestof them in black licorice on short bread for funeral feasts, at whichthey gave rise to solemn reflections as they went down. 

Nevertheless, this letter affected none so much as the writer of it. Hisfirst rough sketch became so damp as he wrote that he had to abandon hispen and take to pencil; while he was revising he had often to desist todry his eyes on the coverlet of Aaron's bed, which made Elspeth weepalso, though she had no notion what he was at. But when the work wasfinished he took her into the secret and read his letter to her, and healmost choked as he did so. Yet he smiled rapturously through his woe, and she knew no better than to be proud of him, and he woke next morningwith a cold, brought on you can see how, but his triumph was worth itsprice. 

Having read the letter in an uncanny silence, Mr. Cathro unbottled Tommyfor the details, and out they came with a rush, blowing away the corkdiscretion. Yet was the Dominie slow to strike; he seemed to find moresatisfaction in surveying his young friend with a wondering gaze thathad a dash of admiration in it, which Tommy was the first to note. 

"I don't mind admitting before the whole school, " said Mr. Cathro, slowly, "that if these letters had been addressed to me they would havetaken me in. "

Tommy tried to look modest, but his chest would have its way. 

"You little sacket, " cried the Dominie, "how did you manage it?"

"I think I thought I was Betsy at the time, " Tommy answered, with properawe. 

"She told me nothing about the weeping-willow at the grave, " said theDominie, perhaps in self-defence. 

"You hadna speired if there was one, " retorted Tommy, jealously. 

"What made you think of it?"

"I saw it might come in neat. " (He had said in the letter that theweeping-willow reminded him of the days when Janet's bonny hair hungdown kissing her waist just as the willow kissed the grave. )

"Willows don't hang so low as you seem to think, " said the Dominie. 

"Yes, they do, " replied Tommy, "I walked three miles to see one to makesure. I was near putting in another beautiful bit aboutweeping-willows. "

"Well, why didn't you?"

Tommy looked up with an impudent snigger. "You could never guess, " hesaid. 

"Answer me at once, " thundered his preceptor. "Was it because--"

"No, " interrupted Tommy, so conscious of Mr. Cathro's inferiority thatto let him go on seemed waste of time. "It was because, though it is abeautiful thing in itself, I felt a servant lassie wouldna have thoughto't. I was sweer, " he admitted, with a sigh; then firmly, "but I cut itout. "

Again Cathro admired, reluctantly. The hack does feel the differencebetween himself and the artist. Cathro might possibly have had the idea, he could not have cut it out. 

_But_ the hack is sometimes, or usually, or nearly always the artist'smaster, and can make him suffer for his dem'd superiority. 

"What made you snivel when you read the pathetic bits?" asked Cathro, with itching fingers. 

"I was so sorry for Peter and Mrs. Dinnie, " Tommy answered, a littlepuzzled himself now. "I saw them so clear. "

"And yet until Betsy came to you, you had never heard tell of them?"

"No. "

"And on reflection you don't care a doit about them?"

"N-no. "

"And you care as little for Betsy?"

"No now, but at the time I a kind of thought I was to be married toAndrew. "

"And even while you blubbered you were saying to yourself, 'What aclever billie I am!'"

Mr. Cathro had certainly intended to end the scene with the strap, butas he stretched out his hand for it he had another idea. "Do you knowwhy Nether Drumgley's sheep are branded with the letters N. D. ?" he askedhis pupils, and a dozen replied, "So as all may ken wha they belong to. "

"Precisely, " said Mr. Cathro, "and similarly they used to brand a letteron a felon, so that all might know whom _he_ belonged to. " He crossed tothe fireplace, and, picking up a charred stick, wrote with it on theforehead of startled Tommy the letters "S. T. "

"Now, " said the Dominie complacently, "we know to whom Tommy belongs. "

All were so taken aback that for some seconds nothing could be heardsave Tommy indignantly wiping his brow; then "Wha is he?" cried one, themouthpiece of half a hundred. 

"He is one of the two proprietors we have just been speaking of, "replied Cathro, dryly, and turning again to Tommy, he said, "Wipe away, Sentimental Tommy, try hot water, try cold water, try a knife, but youwill never get those letters off you; you are branded for ever andever. "

CHAPTER XXXVI

OF FOUR MINISTERS WHO AFTERWARDS BOASTED THAT THEY HAD KNOWN TOMMYSANDYS

Bursary examination time had come, and to the siege of Aberdeen marcheda hungry half-dozen--three of them from Thrums, two from the Glenuharityschool. The sixth was Tod Lindertis, a ploughman from the Dubb ofProsen, his place of study the bothy after lousing time (Do you hear theklink of quoits?) or a one-roomed house near it, his tutor a doggedlittle woman, who knew not the accusative from the dative, but nevertired of holding the book while Tod recited. Him someone greets with thegood-natured jeer, "It's your fourth try, is it no, Tod?" and he answerscheerily, "It is, my lathie, and I'll keep kick, kick, kicking away tothe _n_th time. "

"Which means till the door flies open, " says the dogged little woman, who is the gallant Tod's no less gallant wife, and already the mother oftwo. I hope Tod will succeed this time. 

The competitors, who were to travel part of the way on their shanks, metsoon after daybreak in Cathro's yard, where a little crowd awaited them, parents trying to look humble, Mr. Duthie and Ramsay Cameron thinkingof the morning when they set off on the same errand--but the resultswere different, and Mr. Duthie is now a minister, and Ramsay is in themiddle of another wob. Both dominies were present, hating each other, for that day only, up to the mouth, where their icy politeness was athing to shudder at, and each was drilling his detachment to the lastmoment, but by different methods; for while Mr. Cathro entreated JoeMeldrum for God's sake to mind that about the genitive, and WillieSimpson to keep his mouth shut and drink even water sparingly, Mr. Ogilvy cracked jokes with Gav Dishart and explained them to LauchlanMcLauchlan. "Think of anything now but what is before you, " was Mr. Ogilvy's advice. "Think of nothing else, " roared Mr. Cathro. But thoughMr. Ogilvy seemed outwardly calm it was base pretence; his dickiegradually wriggled through the opening of his waistcoat, as if bearing aprotest from his inward parts, and he let it hang crumpled andconspicuous, while Grizel, on the outskirts of the crowd, yearned to putit right. 

Grizel was not there, she told several people, including herself, to saygood-by to Tommy, and oh, how she scorned Elspeth, for looking as iflife would not be endurable without him. Knowing what Elspeth was, Tommyhad decided that she should not accompany him to the yard (of course shewas to follow him to Aberdeen if he distinguished himself--Mr. McLeanhad promised to bring her), but she told him of her dream that he headedthe bursary list, and as this dream coincided with some dreams of hisown, though not with all, it seemed to give her such fortitude that helet her come. An expressionless face was Tommy's, so that not even theexperienced dominie of Glenquharity, covertly scanning his rival's lot, could tell whether he was gloomy or uplifted; he did not seem to be inneed of a long sleep like Willie Simpson, nor were his eyes glazed likeGav Dishart's, who carried all the problems of Euclid before him on aninvisible blackboard and dared not even wink lest he displaced them, nordid he, like Tod Lindertis, answer questions about his money pocket orwhere he had stowed his bread and cheese with

"After envy, spare, obey, The dative put, remember, pray. "

Mr. Ogilvy noticed that Cathro tapped his forehead doubtfully every timehis eyes fell on Tommy, but otherwise shunned him, and he asked "Whatare his chances?"

"That's the laddie, " replied Mr. Cathro, "who, when you took herladyship to see Corp Shiach years ago impersona--"

"I know, " Mr. Ogilvy interrupted him hastily, "but how will he stand, think you?"

Mr. Cathro coughed. "We'll see, " he said guardedly. 

Nevertheless Tommy was not to get round the corner without betraying alittle of himself, for Elspeth having borne up magnificently when heshook hands, screamed at the tragedy of his back and fell into the armsof Tod's wife, whereupon Tommy first tried to brazen it out and thenkissed her in the presence of a score of witnesses, including Grizel, who stamped her foot, though what right had she to be so angry? "I'msure, " Elspeth sobbed, "that the professor would let me sit beside you;I would just hunker on the floor and hold your foot and no say a word. "Tommy gave Tod's wife an imploring look, and she managed to comfortElspeth with predictions of his coming triumph and the reunion tofollow. Grateful Elspeth in return asked Tommy to help Tod when theprofessors were not looking, and he promised, after which she had nomore fear for Tod. 

And now, ye drums that we all carry in our breasts, beat your best overthe bravest sight ever seen in a small Scotch town of an autumn morning, the departure of its fighting lads for the lists at Aberdeen. Let thetune be the sweet familiar one you found somewhere in the Bible longago, "The mothers we leave behind us"--leave behind us on their knees. May it dirl through your bones, brave boys, to the end, as you hope notto be damned. And now, quick march. 

A week has elapsed, and now--there is no call for music now, for theseare but the vanquished crawling back, Joe Meldrum and--and another. No, it is not Tod, he stays on in Aberdeen, for he is a twelve-pound tenner. The two were within a mile of Thrums at three o'clock, but after thatthey lagged, waiting for the gloaming, when they stole to their homes, ducking as they passed windows without the blinds down. Elspeth ran toTommy when he appeared in the doorway, and then she got quickly betweenhim and Aaron. The warper was sitting by the fire at his evening meal, and he gave the wanderer a long steady look, then without a wordreturned to his porridge and porter. It was a less hearty welcome homeeven than Joe's; his mother was among those who had wept to lose herson, but when he came back to her she gave him a whack on the head withthe thieval. 

Aaron asked not a question about those days in Aberdeen, but he heard alittle about them from Elspeth. Tommy had not excused himself toElspeth, he had let her do as she liked with his head (this was a greattreat to her), and while it lay pressed against hers, she made remarksabout Aberdeen professors which it would have done them good to hear. These she repeated to Aaron, who was about to answer roughly, and thensuddenly put her on his knee instead. 

"They didna ask the right questions, " she told him, and when the warperasked if Tommy had said so, she declared that he had refused to say aword against them, which seemed to her to cover him with glory. "But hedoubted they would make that mistake afore he started, she saidbrightly, so you see he saw through them afore ever he set eyes onthem. "

Corp would have replied admiringly to this "Oh, the little deevil!"(when he heard of Tommy's failure he wanted to fight Gav Dishart andWillie Simpson), but Aaron was another kind of confidant, and even whenshe explained on Tommy's authority that there are two kinds ofcleverness, the kind you learn from books and a kind that is insideyourself, which latter was Tommy's kind, he only replied, "He can take it wi' him to the herding, then, and see if it'll keep thecattle frae stravaiging. "

"It's no that kind of cleverness either, " said Elspeth, quaking, andquaked also Tommy, who had gone to the garret, to listen through thefloor. 

"No? I would like to ken what use his cleverness can be put to, then, "said Aaron, and Elspeth answered nothing, and Tommy only sighed, forthat indeed was the problem. But though to these three and to Cathro, and to Mr. And Mrs. McLean and to others more mildly interested, itseemed a problem beyond solution, there was one in Thrums who rocked herarms at their denseness, a girl growing so long in the legs that twicewithin the last year she had found it necessary to let down herparramatty frock. As soon as she heard that Tommy had come homevanquished, she put on the quaint blue bonnet with the white strings, in which she fondly believed she looked ever so old (her period ofmourning was at an end, but she still wore her black dress) andforgetting all except that he was unhappy, she ran to a certain littlehouse to comfort him. But she did not go in, for through the window shesaw Elspeth petting him, and that somehow annoyed her. In the evening, however, she called on Mr. Cathro. 

Perhaps you want to know why she, who at last saw Sentimental Tommy inhis true light and spurned him accordingly, now exerted herself in hisbehalf instead of going on with the papering of the surgery. Well, thatwas the reason. She had put the question to herself before--not, indeed, before going to Monypenny but before calling on the Dominie--and decidedthat she wanted to send Tommy to college, because she disliked him somuch that she could not endure the prospect of his remaining in Thrums. Now, are you satisfied?

She could scarcely take time to say good-evening to Mr. Cathro beforetelling him the object of her visit. "The letters Tommy has been writingfor people are very clever, are they not?" she began. 

"You've heard of them, have you?"

"Everybody has heard of them, " she said injudiciously, and he groanedand asked if she had come to tell him this. But he admitted theircleverness, whereupon she asked, "Well, if he is clever at writingletters, would he not be clever at writing an essay?"

"I wager my head against a snuff mull that he would be, but what are youdriving at?"

"I was wondering whether he could not win the prize I heard Dr. McQueenspeaking about, the--is it not called the Hugh Blackadder?"

"My head against a buckie that he could! Sit down, Grizel, I see whatyou mean now. Ay, but the pity is he's not eligible for the HughBlackadder. Oh, that he was, oh, that he was! It would make Ogilvy ofGlenquharity sing small at last! His loons have carried the Blackadderfor the last seven years without a break. The Hugh BlackadderMortification, the bequest is called, and, 'deed, it has been a soremortification to me!"

Calming down, he told her the story of the bequest. Hugh Blackadder wasa Thrums man who made a fortune in America, and bequeathed the interestof three hundred pounds of it to be competed for yearly by the youth ofhis native place. He had grown fond of Thrums and all its ways overthere, and left directions that the prize should be given for the bestessay in the Scots tongue, the ministers of the town and glens to be thejudges, the competitors to be boys who were going to college, but hadnot without it the wherewithal to support themselves. The ministers tookthis to mean that those who carried small bursaries were eligible, andindeed it had usually gone to a bursar. 

"Sentimental Tommy would not have been able to compete if he had got abursary, " Mr. Cathro explained, "because however small it was Mr. McLeanmeant to double it; and he can't compete without it, for McLean refusesto help him now (he was here an hour since, saying the laddie wasobviously hopeless), so I never thought of entering Tommy for theBlackadder. No, it will go to Ogilvy's Lauchlan McLauchlan, who is atwelve-pounder, and, as there can be no competitors, he'll get itwithout the trouble of coming back to write the essay. "

"But suppose Mr. McLean were willing to do what he promised if Tommy wonthe Blackadder?"

"It's useless to appeal to McLean. He's hard set against the laddie nowand washes his hands of him, saying that Aaron Latta is right after all. He may soften, and get Tommy into a trade to save him from the herding, but send him to college he won't, and indeed he's right, the laddie'sa fool. "

"Not at writing let--"

"And what is the effect of his letter-writing, but to make meridiculous? Me! I wonder you can expect me to move a finger for him, hehas been my torment ever since his inscrutable face appeared at mydoor. "

"Never mind him, " said Grizel, cunningly. "But think what a triumph itwould be to you if your boy beat Mr. Ogilvy's. "

The Dominie rose in his excitement and slammed the table, "My certie, lassie, but it would!" he cried, "Ogilvy looks on the Blackadder as hisperquisite, and he's surer of it than ever this year. And there's nodoubt but Tommy would carry it. My head to a buckie preen he would carryit, and then, oh, for a sight of Ogilvy's face, oh, for--" He broke offabruptly. "But what's the good of thinking of it?" he said, dolefully, "Mr. McLean's a firm man when he makes up his mind. "

Nevertheless, though McLean, who had a Scotchman's faith in the verdictof professors, and had been bitterly disappointed by Tommy's failure, refused to be converted by the Dominie's entreaties, he yielded to themwhen they were voiced by Ailie (brought into the plot _vice_ Grizelretired), and Elspeth got round Aaron, and so it came about that withhis usual luck, Tommy was given another chance, present at thecompetition, which took place in the Thrums school, the Rev. Mr. Duthie, the Rev. Mr. Dishart, the Rev. Mr. Gloag of Noran Side, the Rev. Mr. Lorrimer of Glenquharity (these on hair-bottomed chairs), and Mr. Cathroand Mr. Ogilvy (cane); present also to a less extent (that is to say, their faces at the windows), Corp and others, who applauded the localchampion when he entered and derided McLauchlan. The subject of theessay was changed yearly, this time "A Day in Church" was announced, and immediately Lauchlan McLauchlan, who had not missed a service sincehis scarlet fever year (and too few then), smote his red head in agony, while Tommy, who had missed as many as possible, looked calmlyconfident. For two hours the competitors were put into a small roomcommunicating with the larger one, and Tommy began at once with aconfident smirk that presently gave way to a most holy expression; whileLauchlan gaped at him and at last got started also, but had to pauseoccasionally to rub his face on his sleeve, for like Corp he was one ofthe kind who cannot think without perspiring. In the large room theministers gossiped about eternal punishment, and of the two dominies onesat at his ease, like a passenger who knows that the coach will reachthe goal without any exertion on his part, while the other paced thefloor, with many a despondent glance through the open door whence thescraping proceeded; and the one was pleasantly cool; and the other in aplot of heat; and the one made genial remarks about every-day matters, and the answers of the other stood on their heads. It was a familiarcomedy to Mr. Ogilvy, hardly a variation on what had happened five timesin six for many years: the same scene, the same scraping in the littleroom, the same background of ministers (black-aviced Mr. Lorrimer hadbegun to bark again), the same dominies; everything was as it had sooften been, except that he and Cathro had changed places; it was Cathrowho sat smiling now and Mr. Ogilvy who dolefully paced the floor. 

To be able to write! Throughout Mr. Ogilvy's life, save when he wasabout one and twenty, this had seemed the great thing, and he everapproached the thought reverently, as if it were a maid of more thanmortal purity. And it is, and because he knew this she let him see herface, which shall ever be hidden from those who look not for the soul, and to help him nearer to her came assistance in strange guise, the lossof loved ones, dolour unutterable; but still she was beyond his reach. Night by night, when the only light in the glen was the school-houselamp, of use at least as a landmark to solitary travellers--who miss itnowadays, for it burns no more--she hovered over him, nor did she deridehis hopeless efforts, but rather, as she saw him go from black to grayand from gray to white in her service, were her luminous eyes sorrowfulbecause she was not for him, and she bent impulsively toward him, sothat once or twice in a long life he touched her fingers, and a heavenlyspark was lit, for he had risen higher than himself, and that isliterature. 

He knew that oblivion was at hand, ready to sweep away his pages almostas soon as they were filled (Do we not all hear her besom when we pauseto dip?), but he had done his best and he had a sense of humor, andperhaps some day would come a pupil of whom he could make what he hadfailed to make of himself. That prodigy never did come, though it wasnot for want of nursing, and there came at least, in succession mostmaddening to Mr. Cathro, a row of youths who could be trained to carrythe Hugh Blackadder. Mr. Ogilvy's many triumphs in this competition hadnot dulled his appetite for more, and depressed he was at the prospectof a reverse. That it was coming now he could not doubt. McLauchlan, whowas to be Rev. , had a flow of words (which would prevent his perspiringmuch in the pulpit), but he could no more describe a familiar scene withthe pen than a milkmaid can draw a cow. The Thrums representatives weresometimes as little gifted, it is true, and never were they so wellexercised, but this Tommy had the knack of it, as Mr. Ogilvy could notdoubt, for the story of his letter-writing had been through the glens. 

"Keep up your spirits, " Mr. Lorrimer had said to Mm as they walkedtogether to the fray, "Cathro's loon may compose the better of the two, but, as I understand, the first years of his life were spent in London, and so he may bogle at the Scotch. "

But the Dominie replied, "Don't buoy me up on a soap bubble. If there'sas much in him as I fear, that should be a help to him instead of ahindrance, for it will have set him a-thinking about the words he uses. "

And the satisfaction on Tommy's face when the subject of the essay wasgiven out, with the business-like way in which he set to work, hadadded to the Dominie's misgivings; if anything was required todishearten him utterly it was provided by Cathro's confident smile. Thetwo Thrums ministers were naturally desirous that Tommy should win, butthe younger of them was very fond of Mr. Ogilvy, and noticing hisunhappy peeps through the door dividing the rooms, proposed that itshould be closed. He shut it himself, and as he did so he observed thatTommy was biting his pen and frowning, while McLauchlan, having ceasedto think, was getting on nicely. But it did not strike Mr. Dishart thatthis was worth commenting on. 

"Are you not satisfied with the honors you have already got, you greedyman?" he said, laying his hand affectionately on Mr. Ogilvy, who onlysighed for reply. 

"It is well that the prize should go to different localities, for inthat way its sphere of usefulness is extended, " remarked pompous Mr. Gloag, who could be impartial, as there was no candidate from NoranSide. He was a minister much in request for church soirees, where heamused the congregations so greatly with personal anecdote about himselfthat they never thought much of him afterwards. There is one suchminister in every presbytery. 

"And to have carried the Hugh Blackadder seven times running is surelyenough for any one locality, even though it be Glenquharity, " said Mr. Lorrimer, preparing for defeat. 

"There's consolation for you, sir, " said Mr. Cathro, sarcastically, tohis rival, who tried to take snuff in sheer bravado, but let it slipthrough his fingers, and after that, until the two hours were up, thetalk was chiefly of how Tommy would get on at Aberdeen. But it wasconfined to the four ministers and one dominie. Mr. Ogilvy still hoveredabout the door of communication, and his face fell more and more, makingMr. Dishart quite unhappy. 

"I'm an old fool, " the Dominie admitted, "but I can't help being castdown. The fact is that--I have only heard the scrape of one pen fornearly an hour. "

"Poor Lauchlan!" exclaimed Mr. Cathro, rubbing his hands gleefully, andindeed it was such a shameless exhibition that the Auld Licht ministersaid reproachfully, "You forget yourself, Mr. Cathro, let us not beunseemly exalted in the hour of our triumph. "

Then Mr. Cathro sat upon his hands as the best way of keeping themapart, but the moment Mr. Dishart's back presented itself, he winked atMr. Ogilvy. He winked a good deal more presently. For after all--how totell it! Tommy was ignominiously beaten, making such a beggarly showthat the judges thought it unnecessary to take the essays home with themfor leisurely consideration before pronouncing Mr. Lauchlan McLauchlanwinner. There was quite a commotion in the school-room. At the end ofthe allotted time the two competitors had been told to hand in theiressays, and how Mr. McLauchlan was sniggering is not worth recording, sodumfounded, confused, and raging was Tommy. He clung to his papers, crying fiercely that the two hours could not be up yet, and Lauchlanhaving tried to keep the laugh in too long it exploded in his mouth, whereupon, said he, with a guffaw, "He hasna written a word for near anhour!"

"What! It was you I heard!" cried Mr. Ogilvy gleaming, while the unhappyCathro tore the essay from Tommy's hands. Essay! It was no more an essaythan a twig is a tree, for the gowk had stuck in the middle of hissecond page. Yes, stuck is the right expression, as his chagrinedteacher had to admit when the boy was cross-examined. He had not been"up to some of his tricks, " he had stuck, and his explanations, as youwill admit, merely emphasized his incapacity. 

He had brought himself to public scorn for lack of a word. What word?they asked testily, but even now he could not tell. He had wanted aScotch word that would signify how many people were in church, and itwas on the tip of his tongue but would come no farther. Puckle wasnearly the word, but it did not mean so many people as he meant. Thehour had gone by just like winking; he had forgotten all about timewhile searching his mind for the word. 

When Mr. Ogilvy heard this he seemed to be much impressed, repeatedly henodded his head as some beat time to music, and he muttered to himself, "The right word--yes, that's everything, " and "'the time went by likewinking'--exactly, precisely, " and he would have liked to examineTommy's bumps, but did not, nor said a word aloud, for was he not therein McLauchlan's interest?

The other five were furious; even Mr. Lorrimer, though his man had won, could not smile in face of such imbecility. "You little tattie doolie, "Cathro roared, "were there not a dozen words to wile from if you had anill-will to puckle? What ailed you at manzy, or--"

"I thought of manzy, " replied Tommy, woefully, for he was ashamed ofhimself, "but--but a manse's a swarm. It would mean that the folk in thekirk were buzzing thegither like bees, instead of sitting still. "

"Even if it does mean that, " said Mr. Duthie, with impatience, "what wasthe need of being so particular? Surely the art of essay-writingconsists in using the first word that comes and hurrying on. "

"That's how I did, " said the proud McLauchlan, who is now leader of aparty in the church, and a figure in Edinburgh during the month of May. 

"I see, " interposed Mr. Gloag, "that McLauchlan speaks of there being amask of people in the church. Mask is a fine Scotch word. "

"Admirable, " assented Mr. Dishart. "I thought of mask, " whimpered Tommy, "but that would mean the kirk was crammed, and I just meant it to bemiddling full. "

"Flow would have done, " suggested Mr. Lorrimer. 

"Flow's but a handful, " said Tommy. 

"Curran, then, you jackanapes!"

"Curran's no enough. "

Mr. Lorrimer flung up his hands in despair. 

"I wanted something between curran and mask, " said Tommy, dogged, yetalmost at the crying. 

Mr. Ogilvy, who had been hiding his admiration with difficulty, spread anet for him. "You said you wanted a word that meant middling full. Well, why did you not say middling full--or fell mask?"

"Yes, why not?" demanded the ministers, unconsciously caught in the net. 

"I wanted one word, " replied Tommy, unconsciously avoiding it. 

"You jewel!" muttered Mr. Ogilvy under his breath, but Mr. Cathro wouldhave banged the boy's head had not the ministers interfered. 

"It is so easy, too, to find the right word, " said Mr. Gloag. 

"It's no; it's as difficult as to hit a squirrel, " cried Tommy, andagain Mr. Ogilvy nodded approval. 

But the ministers were only pained. 

"The lad is merely a numskull, " said Mr. Dishart, kindly. 

"And no teacher could have turned him into anything else, " said Mr. Duthie. 

"And so, Cathro, you need not feel sore over your defeat, " added Mr. Gloag; but nevertheless Cathro took Tommy by the neck and ran him out ofthe parish school of Thrums. When he returned to the others he found theministers congratulating McLauchlan, whose nose was in the air, andcomplimenting Mr. Ogilvy, who listened to their formal phrases solemnlyand accepted their hand-shakes with a dry chuckle. 

"Ay, grin away, sir, " the mortified dominie of Thrums said to himsourly, "the joke is on your side. "

"You are right, sir, " replied Mr. Ogilvy, mysteriously, "the joke is onmy side, and the best of it is that not one of you knows what the jokeis!"

And then an odd thing happened. As they were preparing to leave theschool, the door opened a little and there appeared in the aperture theface of Tommy, tear-stained but excited. "I ken the word now, " he cried, "it came to me a' at once; it is hantle!"

The door closed with a victorious bang, just in time to prevent Cathro--

"Oh, the sumph!" exclaimed Mr. Lauchlan McLauchlan, "as if it matteredwhat the word is now!"

And said Mr. Dishart, "Cathro, you had better tell Aaron Latta that thesooner he sends this nincompoop to the herding the better. "

But Mr. Ogilvy giving his Lauchlan a push that nearly sent himsprawling, said in an ecstasy to himself, "He _had_ to think of it tillhe got it--and he got it. The laddie is a genius!" They were about totear up Tommy's essay, but he snatched it from them and put it in hisoxter pocket. "I am a collector of curiosities, " he explained, "and thispaper may be worth money yet. "

"Well, " said Cathro, savagely, "I have one satisfaction, I ran him outof my school. "

"Who knows, " replied Mr. Ogilvy, "but what you may be proud to dust achair for him when he comes back?"

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE END OF A BOYHOOD

Convinced of his own worthlessness, Tommy was sufficiently humble now, but Aaron Latta, nevertheless, marched to the square on the followingmarket day and came back with the boy's sentence, Elspeth being happilyabsent. 

"I say nothing about the disgrace you have brought on this house, " thewarper began without emotion, "for it has been a shamed house sinceafore you were born, and it's a small offence to skail on a clartyfloor. But now I've done more for you than I promised Jean Myles to do, and you had your pick atween college and the herding, and the herdingyou've chosen twice. I call you no names, you ken best what you'refitted for, but I've seen the farmer of the Dubb of Prosen the day, andhe was short-handed through the loss of Tod Lindertis, so you're fee'dto him. Dinna think you get Tod's place, it'll be years afore you riseto that, but it's right and proper that as he steps up, you should stepdown. "

"The Dubb of Prosen!" cried Tommy in dismay. "It's fifteen miles fraehere. "

"It's a' that. "

"But--but--but Elspeth and me never thought of my being so far away thatshe couldna see me. We thought of a farmer near Thrums. "

"The farther you're frae her the better, " said Aaron, uneasily, yethonestly believing what he said. 

"It'll kill her, " Tommy cried fiercely. With only his own suffering toconsider he would probably have nursed it into a play through which hestalked as the noble child of misfortune, but in his anxiety for Elspethhe could still forget himself. "Fine you ken she canna do without me, "he screamed. 

"She maun be weaned, " replied the warper, with a show of temper; he wasconvinced that the sooner Elspeth learned to do without Tommy the betterit would be for herself in the end, but in his way of regarding the boythere was also a touch of jealousy, pathetic rather than forbidding. Tohim he left the task of breaking the news to Elspeth; and Tommy, terrified lest she should swoon under it, was almost offended when sheremained calm. But, alas, the reason was that she thought she was goingwith him. 

"Will we have to walk all the way to the Dubb of Prosen?" she asked, quite brightly, and at that Tommy twisted about in misery. "You areno--you canna--" he began, and then dodged the telling. "We--we may geta lift in a cart, " he said weakly. 

"And I'll sit aside you in the fields, and make chains o' the gowans, will I no? Speak, Tommy!"

"Ay--ay, will you, " he groaned. 

"And we'll have a wee, wee room to oursels, and--"

He broke down, "Oh, Elspeth, " he cried, "it was ill-done of me no tostick to my books, and get a bursary, and it was waur o' me to botherabout that word. I'm a scoundrel, I am, I'm a black, I'm a--"

But she put her hand on his mouth, saying, "I'm fonder o' you than ever, Tommy, and I'll like the Dubb o' Prosen fine, and what does it matterwhere we are when we're thegither?" which was poor comfort for him, butstill he could not tell her the truth, and so in the end Aaron had totell her. It struck her down, and the doctor had to be called in duringthe night to stop her hysterics. When at last she fell asleep Tommy'sarm was beneath her, and by and by it was in agony, but he set his teethand kept it there rather than risk waking her. 

When Tommy was out of the way, Aaron did his clumsy best to soothe her, sometimes half shamefacedly pressing her cheek to his, and she did notrepel him, but there was no response. "Dinna take on in that way, dawtie, " he would say, "I'll be good to you. "

"But you're no Tommy, " Elspeth answered. 

"I'm not, I'm but a stunted tree, blasted in my youth, but for a' that Iwould like to have somebody to care for me, and there's none to do't, Elspeth, if you winna. I'll gang walks wi' you, I'll take you to thefishing, I'll come to the garret at night to hap you up, I'll--I'llteach you the games I used to play mysel'. I'm no sure but what youmight make something o' me yet, bairn, if you tried hard. "

"But you're no Tommy, " Elspeth wailed again, and when he advised her toput Tommy out of her mind for a little and speak of other things, sheonly answered innocently, "What else is there to speak about?"

Mr. McLean had sent Tommy a pound, and so was done with him, but Ailiestill thought him a dear, though no longer a wonder, and Elspeth took astrange confession to her, how one night she was so angry with God thatshe had gone to bed without saying her prayers. She had just meant tokeep Him in suspense for a little, and then say them, but she fellasleep. And that was not the worst, for when she woke in the morning, and saw that she was still living, she was glad she had not said them. But next night she said them twice. 

And this, too, is another flash into her dark character. Tommy, whonever missed saying his prayers and could say them with surprisingquickness, told her, "God is fonder of lonely lassies than of any otherkind, and every time you greet it makes Him greet, and when you'recheerful it makes Him cheerful too. " This was meant to dry her eyes, butit had not that effect, for, said Elspeth, vindictively, "Well, then, I'll just make Him as miserable as I can. "

When Tommy was merely concerned with his own affairs he did not thinkmuch about God, but he knew that no other could console Elspeth, and hislove for her usually told him the right things to say, and while he saidthem, he was quite carried away by his sentiments and even wept overthem, but within the hour he might be leering. They were beautiful, andwere repeated of course to Mrs. McLean, who told her husband of them, declaring that this boy's love for his sister made her a better woman. 

"But nevertheless, " said Ivie, "Mr. Cathro assures me--"

"He is prejudiced, " retorted Mrs. McLean warmly, prejudice being afailing which all women marvel at. "Just listen to what the boy said toElspeth to-day. He said to her, 'When I am away, try for a whole day tobe better than you ever were before, and think of nothing else, and thenwhen prayer-time comes you will see that you have been happy withoutknowing it. ' Fancy his finding out that. "

"I wonder if he ever tried it himself?" said Mr. McLean. 

"Ivie, think shame of yourself!"

"Well, even Cathro admits that he has a kind of cleverness, but--"

"Cleverness!" exclaimed Ailie, indignantly, "that is not cleverness, itis holiness;" and leaving the cynic she sought Elspeth, and did her goodby pointing out that a girl who had such a brother should try to savehim pain. "He is very miserable, dear, " she said, "because you are sounhappy. If you looked brighter, think how that would help him, and itwould show that you are worthy of him. " So Elspeth went home trying hardto look brighter, but made a sad mess of it. 

"Think of getting letters frae me every time the post comes in!" saidTommy, and then indeed her face shone. 

And then Elspeth could write to him--yes, as often as ever she liked!This pleased her even more. It was such an exquisite thought that shecould not wait, but wrote the first one before he started, and heanswered it across the table. And Mrs. McLean made a letter bag, withtwo strings to it, and showed her how to carry it about with her in asafer place than a pocket. 

Then a cheering thing occurred. Came Corp, with the astounding newsthat, in the Glenquharity dominie's opinion, Tommy should have got theHugh Blackadder. 

"He says he is glad he wasna judge, because he would have had to giveyou the prize, and he laughs like to split at the ministers for givingit to Lauchlan McLauchlan. "

Now, great was the repute of Mr. Ogilvy, and Tommy gaped incredulous. "He had no word of that at the time, " he said. 

"No likely! He says if the ministers was so doited as to think his loondid best, it wasna for him to conter them. "

"Man, Corp, you ca'me me aff my feet! How do you ken this?"

Corp had promised not to tell, and he thought he did not tell, but Tommywas too clever for him. Grizel, it appeared, had heard Mr. Ogilvy sayingthis strange thing to the doctor, and she burned to pass it on to Tommy, but she could not carry it to him herself, because--Why was it? Oh, yes, because she hated him. So she made a messenger of Corp, and warned himagainst telling who had sent him with the news. 

Half enlightened, Tommy began to strut again. "You see there's somethingin me for all they say, " he told Elspeth. "Listen to this. At thebursary examinations there was some English we had to turn into Latin, and it said, 'No man ever attained supreme eminence who worked for merelucre; such efforts must ever be bounded by base mediocrity. None shallclimb high but he who climbs for love, for in truth where the heart is, there alone shall the treasure be found. ' Elspeth, it came ower me in aclink how true that was, and I sat saying it to myself, though I saw GavDishart and Willie Simpson and the rest beginning to put it into Latinat once, as little ta'en up wi' the words as if they had been about auldHannibal. I aye kent, Elspeth, that I could never do much at thelearning, but I didna see the reason till I read that. Syne I kent thatplaying so real-like in the Den, and telling about my fits when it wasname that had them but Corp, and mourning for Lewis Doig's father, andwriting letters for folk so grandly, and a' my other queer ploys thatended in Cathro's calling me Sentimental Tommy, was what my heart wasin, and I saw in a jiffy that if thae things were work, I should soonrise to supreme eminence. "

"But they're no, " said Elspeth, sadly. 

"No, " he admitted, his face falling, "but, Elspeth, if I was to hearsome day of work I could put my heart into as if it were a game! Iwouldna be laug in finding the treasure syne. Oh, the blatter I wouldmake!"

"I doubt there's no sic work, " she answered, but he told her not to beso sure. "I thought there wasna mysel', " he said, "till now, but sure asdeath my heart was as ta'en up wi' hunting for the right word as if ithad been a game, and that was how the time slipped by so quick. Yet itwas paying work, for the way I did it made Mr. Ogilvy see I should havegot the prize, and a' body kens there's more cleverness in him than ina cart-load o' ministers. "

"But, but there are no more Hugh Blackadders to try for, Tommy?"

"That's nothing, there maun be other work o' the same kind. Elspeth, cheer up, I tell you, I'll find a wy!"

"But you didna ken yoursel' that you should have got the HughBlackadder?"

He would not let this depress him. "I ken now, " he said. Nevertheless, why he should have got it was a mystery which he longed to fathom. Mr. Ogilvy had returned to Glenquharity, so that an explanation could not bedrawn from him even if he were willing to supply it, which wasimprobable; but Tommy caught Grizel in the Banker's Close and compelledher to speak. 

"I won't tell you a word of what Mr. Ogilvy said, " she insisted, in herobstinate way, and, oh, how she despised Corp for breaking his promise. 

"Corp didna ken he telled me, " said Tommy, less to clear Corp than toexalt himself, "I wriggled it out o' him;" but even this did not bringGrizel to a proper frame of mind, so he said, to annoy her, "At any rate you're fond o' me. "

"I am not, " she replied, stamping; "I think you are horrid. "

"What else made you send Corp to me?"

"I did that because I heard you were calling yourself a blockhead. "

"Oho, " said he, "so you have been speiring about me though you winnaspeak to me!"

Grizel looked alarmed, and thinking to weaken his case, said, hastily, "I very nearly kept it from you, I said often to myself 'I won't tellhim. '"

"So you have been thinking a lot about me!" was his prompt comment. 

"If I have, " she retorted, "I did not think nice things. And what ismore, I was angry with myself for telling Corp to tell you. "

Surely this was crushing, but apparently Tommy did not think so, for hesaid, "You did it against your will! That means I hare a power over youthat you canna resist. Oho, oho!"

Had she become more friendly so should he, had she shed one tear hewould have melted immediately; but she only looked him up and downdisdainfully, and it hardened him. He said with a leer, "I ken whatmakes you hold your hands so tight, it's to keep your arms fraewagging;" and then her cry, "How do you know?" convicted her. He had notsucceeded in his mission, but on his way home he muttered, triumphantly, "I did her, I did her!" and once he stopped to ask himself the question, "Was it because my heart was in it?" It was their last meeting till theywere man and woman. 

 * * * * *

A blazing sun had come out on top of heavy showers, and the land reekedand smelled as of the wash-tub. The smaller girls of Monypenny weresitting in passages playing at fivey, just as Sappho for instance usedto play it; but they heard the Dubb of Prosen cart draw up at AaronLatta's door, and they followed it to see the last of Tommy Sandys. Corpwas already there, calling in at the door every time he heard a sob;"Dinna, Elspeth, dinna, he'll find a wy, " but Grizel had refused tocome, though Tommy knew that she had been asking when he started andwhich road the cart would take. Well, he was not giving her a thought atany rate; his box was in the cart now, and his face was streaked withtears that were all for Elspeth. She should not have come to the door, but she came, and--it was such a pitiable sight that Aaron Latta couldnot look on. He went hurriedly to his workshop, but not to warp, andeven the carter was touched and he said to Tommy, "I tell you what, man, I have to go round by Causeway End smiddy, and you and the crittur havetime, if you like, to take the short cut and meet me at the far cornero' Caddam wood. "

So Tommy and Elspeth, holding each other's hands, took the short cut andthey came to the far end of Caddam, and Elspeth thought they had bettersay it here before the cart came; but Tommy said he would walk back withher through the wood as far as the Toom Well, and they could say itthere. They tried to say it at the Well, but--Elspeth was still with himwhen he returned to the far corner of Caddam, where the cart was nowawaiting him. The carter was sitting on the shaft, and he told them hewas in no hurry, and what is more, he had the delicacy to turn his backon them and struck his horse with the reins for looking round at thesorrowful pair. They should have said it now, but first Tommy walkedback a little bit of the way with Elspeth, and then she came back withhim, and that was to be the last time, but he could not leave her, andso, there they were in the wood, looking woefully at each other, and itwas not said yet. 

They had said it now, and all was over; they were several paces apart. Elspeth smiled, she had promised to smile because Tommy said it wouldkill him if she was greeting at the very end. But what a smile it was!Tommy whistled, he had promised to whistle to show that he was happy aslong as Elspeth could smile. She stood still, but he went on, turninground every few yards to--to whistle. "Never forget, day nor night, whatI said to you, " he called to her. "You're the only one I love, and Icare not a hair for Grizel. "

But when he disappeared, shouting to her, "I'll find a wy, I'll find awy, " she screamed and ran after him. He was already in the cart, and ithad started. He stood up in it and waved his hand to her, and she stoodon the dyke and waved to him, and thus they stood waving till a hollowin the road swallowed cart and man and boy. Then Elspeth put her handsto her eyes and went sobbing homeward. 

When she was gone, a girl who had heard all that passed between themrose from among the broom of Caddam and took Elspeth's place on thedyke, where she stood motionless waiting for the cart to reappear as itclimbed the other side of the hollow. She wore a black frock and a bluebonnet with white strings, but the cart was far away, and Tommy thoughtshe was Elspeth, and springing to his feet again in the cart he wavedand waved. At first she did not respond, for had she not heard him say, "You're the only one I love, and I care not a hair for Grizel?" And sheknew he was mistaking her for Elspeth. But by and by it struck her thathe would be more unhappy if he thought Elspeth was too overcome by griefto wave to him. Her arms rocked passionately; no, no, she would not liftthem to wave to him, he could be as unhappy as he chose. Then in aspirit of self-abnegation that surely raised her high among thedaughters of men, though she was but a painted lady's child, she wavedto him to save him pain, and he, still erect in the cart, waved backuntil nothing could be seen by either of them save wood and fields and along, deserted road.