Violet Jacob > Flemington

82
FLEMINGTON
there was something larger than himself, and
larger than anything he could understand, about
the soldier. And feeling, as he was apt to do,
every little change in the mental climate surround¬
ing him he had guessed that Logie liked him.
The thought added to the exultation produced in
him by the glory of the pure morning; and he
suddenly fell from his height as he remembered
afresh that he was here to cheat him.
It was with a shock that he heard Skirling
Wattie’s pipes as he reached the Montrose road,
and saw the beggar’s outlandish cart approaching*
evidently on its return journey to Montrose. His
heart beat against the report that lay in his pocket
awaiting the opportunity that Fate was bringing
nearer every moment. There was nobody to be
seen as the beggar drew up beside him. The
insolent joviality that pervaded the man, his
almost indecent oddness — things which had
pleased Archie yesterday struck cold on him now.
He had no wish to stay talking to him, and he
gave him the paper without a word more than the
injunction to have it despatched.
He left him, hurrying across the Montrose road
and making for the place where the ground began
to fall away to the Basin. He sat down on the
scrubby waste land by a broom-bush, whose dry,
burst pods hung like tattered black flags in the
brush of green ; their acrid smell was coming out
as the sun mounted higher. Below him the
marshy ground ran out to meet the water; and
eastward the uncovered mud and wet sand, bared