Violet Jacob > Flemington

ADRIFT
139
rein over a stump. He approached the cart, and
the yellow dog, who was for once lying down,
opened his wary golden eyes, watching each
movement that brought the intruder nearer to his
master without raising his head.
“You are not often on this side of Brechin,”
said Archie, as the beggar handed him the packet.
“Fegs, nal” returned Wattie, “but auld Davie
an’ his tolbooth’s on the ither side o’t an’ it’s no
safe yonder. It’s yersel’ I hae to thank for that,
Mr. Flemington. A didna ken whaur ye was,
sae a gae’d up to the muckle hoose to speer for
ye. The auld stock came doon himsel’. Dod!
the doag gar’d him loup an’ the pipes gar’d him
skelloch. But he tell’t me whaur ye was.”
“ Plague take you 1 did you go there asking
for me ?” cried Archie.
“ What was a to dae ? A tell’t Davie ye was
needin’ me to lairn ye a sang! ‘ The painter-lad
was seekin’ me,’ says I, ‘ an’ he tell’t me to come
in-by.’ ”
Flemington’s annoyance deepened. He did not
know what the zeal of this insufferable rascal had
led him to say or do in his name, and he had the
rueful sense that the tangle he had paid such a
heavy price to escape from was complicating
round him. The officious familiarity of the piper
exasperated him, and he resented Government’s
choice of such a tool. He put the letter in his
pocket, and began to back out of the thicket. He
would read his instructions by himself.
“ Hey ! ye’re no awa’, man?” cried Wattie.