The Starling Part 11

"Whisht, whisht!" said Jock. "I have mair respec' for ye than to let ye be _my_ freen'. But for a' that, mind, I'm no gaun to pay ye for my boots--and ye'll hae them ready 'gin Friday nicht, for Sat.u.r.day's fis.h.i.+n'--fareweel!"

"A' richt, Jock," said Adam.

No sooner had Hall left the house than the Sergeant said to himself, "G.o.d have mercy on me! I to be unhappy after that! I wi' Katie and Mary! I wi' mercies temporal and spiritual mair than can be numbered!

Waes me! what have I done! Starling, indeed! that's surely no' the question--but starvation, ignorance, cruelty, hate, despair, h.e.l.l, at our verra doors! G.o.d help puir Jock Hall, and may He forgive Adam Mercer!"

Jock got his boots on Friday night, well repaired. He said nothing but "Thank ye," and "Ye'll get naething frae me." But on Sat.u.r.day evening a fine basket of trout was brought by him to the Sergeant's door. Jock said, "There's beauties! Never saw better trout! splendid day!" But when the Sergeant thanked him, and offered him a sixpence, Jock looked with wonder, saying, "Dinna insult a bodie!"

CHAPTER XIV

JOCK HALL'S CONSPIRACY

On the Sunday, when the Sergeant went to church, as we have already described, Jock Hall was quartered for the day with Mrs. Craigie. To do Smellie justice, he did not probably know how very worthless this woman was, far less did the Kirk Session. She was cunning and plausible enough to deceive both. Her occasional attendance at church was sufficient to keep up appearances. The custom of boarding out pauper children with widows, except when these are not respectable, has on the whole worked well, and is infinitely superior to the workhouse system.

Mrs. Craigie belonged to the exceptional cases. She accommodated any lodger who might turn up.

Jock and Mrs. Craigie were at the window, a second story one, criticising the pa.s.sers-by to church, as one has seen the loungers at a club window do the ordinary pa.s.sers-by on week-days. The Sergeant and his wife, with Mary following them, suddenly attracted their attention.

"The auld hypocrite!" exclaimed Mrs. Craigie; "there he gangs, as prood as a peac.o.c.k, haudin' his head up when it should be bowed doon wi' shame to the dust! An' his wife, tae!--eh! what a ban net! sic a goon! Sirs me! Baith are the waur o' the wear. Ha! ha! ha! And Mary! as I declare, wi' new shoon, a new bannet, and new shawl! The impudent hizzy that she is! It's a' to spite me, for I see'd her keekin' up to the window. But stealt bairns can come to nae guid; confoond them a'!--though I shouldna say't on the Sabbath day."

Hall stood behind her, and watched the group over her shoulder. "Ye're richt, Luckie," he said, "he _is_ an auld hypocrite. But they are a'

that--like minister, like man. 'Confoond them,' _ye_ say; 'Amen', _I_ say; but what d'ye mean by stealt bairns?"

Ah, Jock, art thou not also a hypocrite!

Mrs. Craigie had left the window, and sat down beside the fire, the church-goers having pa.s.sed, and the church bell having ceased to ring.

Jock then lighted his pipe opposite Mrs. Craigie. "What d'ye mean," he asked again, "by stealt bairns?"

"I mean this," replied she, "that yon auld hypocrite, sodger, and poacher, Adam Mercer, stealt Mary Semple frae me!" and she looked at Hall with an expression which said, "What do ye think of that?" Then having been invited by Hall to tell him all about the theft, she did so, continuing her narrative up to the moment when she was ordered out of the house by Adam; saying now as on that occasion, "But I hae freen's, and I'll pit Smellie to smash him yet! I'll get my revenge oot o' him, the auld bitin' brock that he is. Smellie is my freen, and he has mair power, far, than Adam wi' the minister." So thought Mrs. Craigie.

"Is Smellie yer freen'?" asked Hall, without taking his pipe out of his mouth, "and does _he_ hate Adam? and does _he_ want Mary back tae you?"

"That does he," replied Mrs. Craigie; "and he wad gie onything to get Mary back tae me?"

"Then, my certes, Smellie _has_ pooer! nae doot o' _that_," remarked Hall, with a grim smile; "for he has helpit to pit me mony a time into the jail. Wad it obleege him muckle tae get Mary back frae the Sergeant?

Wad he befreen' me if I helped him?" asked Jock confidentially.

"It wad be a real treat till him!" exclaimed Mrs. Craigie; "and he wad befreen' ye a' yer life! An', Hall----"

"But," asked Jock, interrupting her, "what did ye say aboot poachin'?

Was Adam in that line?"

"Him!" exclaimed Mrs. Craigie; "I'se warrant he was--notorious!"

"Hoo d'ye ken?" inquired Jock.

"Smellie telt me! but mind ye, he said I was to keep it quait till he gied me the wink, ye ken;" and Mrs. Craigie gave a knowing wink. She did not know that Smellie had already _peached_. "For hoo Smellie kent was this, that he had some sort o' business in the place whaur Mercer leeved--that's north in Bennock parish, afore he was a sodger; and Smellie picked up a' the story o' his poachin', for Smellie is awfu'

shairp; but he wad never tell't till he could pit it like a gag into the prood mouth o' Adam; and Smellie says he'll pit it in noo, and let Adam crunch his teeth on't," said Mrs. Craigie, gnas.h.i.+ng the few she had herself.

Hall manifested a singular inquisitiveness to know as much as possible about those poaching days, and their locality, until at last being satisfied, and having learned that the old keeper of Lord Bennock was still alive, though, as Mrs. Craigie said, "clean superannuat", and that he was, moreover, Adam's cousin, Jock said, "What an awfu' blackguard Adam maun be! If I had kent what I ken noo, I never wad hae gi'en him my boots to men'."

"Yer boots to men'!" exclaimed Mrs. Craigie, with astonishment; "what for did ye do that?"

"He had nae wark."

"Ser' him richt!" said Mrs. Craigie.

"And I patroneesed him," continued Jock.

"Ha! ha! It was far ower guid o' ye, Jock, tae patroneese him," said Mrs. Craigie. "Ye'll no pay him, I houp? But he's sic a greedy fallow, that he micht expec' even a puir sowl like you tae pay."

"Me pay him!" said Jock, with a laugh, "maybe--when I hae paid the debt o' natur'; no till then."

"But, Jock," asked Mrs. Craigie, almost in a whisper, "did _ye_ see Mary, the wee s.l.u.t?"

"I did that," replied Jock, "an' it wad hae broken yer feelin' heart, Luckie, had _ye_ seen her!--no lying as a puir orphan paid for by the Session ocht to lie, on a shake-doon, wi' a blanket ower her,--my certes, guid eneuch for the like o' her, and for the bawbees paid for her----"

"Guid?--ower guid!" interpolated Mrs. Craigie.

"But," continued Hall, with a leer, "she was mair like a leddy, wi' a bed till hersel', an' curtains on't; and sitting in a chair, wi'

stockin's and shoon, afore the fire--learning her lesson, too, and coddled and coddled by Adam and his wife. What say ye to that, Luckie?

what say ye to that?"

"Dinna mak' me daft!" exclaimed Mrs. Craigie; "it's eneuch to mak' a bodie swear e'en on the Sabbath day!"

"Swear awa'!" said Hall; "the day maks nae difference to _me_. Sae ca'

awa', woman, if it wull dae ye ony guid, or gie ye ony comfort."

Mrs. Craigie, instead of accepting the advice of her "ne'er-do-weel"

lodger, fell into a meditative mood. What could she be thinking about?

Her Sabbath thoughts came to this, in their practical results--a proposal to Jock Hall to seize Mary as she was returning from church, and to bring her again under the protection of her dear old motherly friend. She could not, indeed, as yet take her from under the Sergeant's roof by force, but could the Sergeant retake her if by any means she were brought back under _her_ roof?

Jock, after some consideration, entertained the proposal, discussed it, and then came to terms. "What wull ye gie me?" he at last asked.

"A gla.s.s o' whuskey and a saxpence!" said Mrs. Craigie.

"Ba! ba!" said Jock; "I'm nae bairn, but gleg and cannie, like a moudiewart! Saxpence! Ye ken as weel as I do, that if the s.h.i.+rra--for, losh me! I ken baith him an' the law ower weel!--if he heard ye were plottin' an' plannin' to grip a bairn that way on the Sabbath, and paying me for helpin' ye--my word! you and me wad be pit in jail; and though this micht be a comfort tae _me_--lodgings and vittals for naething, ye ken, and a visit to an auld hame--it wadna dae for a Christian woman like you, Luckie! Eh, la.s.s? it wad never dae! What wad the minister and Smellie say? no' to speak o' the Sergeant?--hoo _he_ wad craw! Sae unless ye keep it as quait as death, an' gie me half-a-crown, I'll no pit my han' on the bairn."

"The bargain's made!" said Mrs. Craigie. "But ye maun wait till I get a s.h.i.+lling mair frae Mrs. D'rymple, as I've nae change."

"Tell her to come ben," said Jock. "Can ye trust her wi' the secret?

Ye should get her tae help ye, and tae swear, if it comes tae a trial, that the bairn cam' tae ye o' her ain free consent, mind. I'm ready, for half-a-crown mair, to gie my aith to the same effec'."

"Ye're no far wrang; that's the plan!" said Mrs. Craigie. "I can trust Peggy like steel. An' I'm sure Mary _does_ want to come tae me. That's the truth and nae lee. Sae you and Peggy D'rymple may sweer a' that wi'

a guid conscience."