Part 10 (1/2)
Jock was suddenly quiet, as if arrested by some strong power. Then in a more natural tone of voice he said, ”It's no' worth the while o' an auld sodger to kick a man like me. But let sleepin' dougs lie! Dougs hae teeth, and their bite is bad when mad--when mad!” Then, after a pause, he went on, in a laughing mood, ”But I _hae_ business, important business wi' ye, Sergeant; an' afore we proceed to consider it, ye'll tak' a snuff! It pits brains into a bodie's head;” and Jock produced a small tin snuff-box, and opening the lid he looked into it with an expression of anxiety. ”There's twa, I'm sure,--twa snuffs; an' I consider a man is no' poor wha has ae snuff for himsel' and anither for a neebor. Sae tak' a snuff!” and he handed the box to the Sergeant, as he himself leant back in his chair, crossed one leg over another, and pointing to his boots said, ”That's some business, since ye insist on it! I want to gie ye a job, Mr. Mercer, for I hear ye're idle.” Then turning up the soles of his wretched boots, which looked like a kind of leather vegetable about to rot into earth mould, he said, ”They'll be ill to patch, or to fit new soles on, but I ken ye're a gude tradesman.
Try.”
Adam only smiled.
”Ye'll be like the lave,” Jock continued, ”ower prood to work for a man like me. I wadna wunner if ye're no sure o' payment. Sae maybe it's as weel to tell ye, that as far as I ken, ye'll never get a bawbee frae me!
For Jock Hall is a braw customer to them that'll ser' him--though, faix, there's no mony o' that kind noo!--but he's a bad payer. In fac, he has clean forgot hoo to pay an account.”
Sorrow softens the hearts of good men; and if it is in any degree occasioned by unjust treatment, it prompts charitable sympathies towards others who are condemned as wicked by society without a fair hearing ever having been afforded them. When the streams of their affection have been frozen by the cold reception given where a warm welcome was antic.i.p.ated, it is a relief to let them flow into other and dried-up cisterns where, in despair, from a long drought, such blessings were never expected, and are joyfully appreciated.
So Adam felt kindly towards Jock, though he only said, ”I'll men' your boots for that fine pinch o' snuff, and they'll cost ye nae mair, except guidwill, and that's cheap.”
Jock Hall looked rather perplexed, and cleared out his box with his long finger, pressing his last snuff vehemently into his nostril. Then resuming, as if with difficulty, his careless manner, he said, ”Hae the boots ready by Friday nicht, as I maun fish the East Muir water on Sat.u.r.day.”
”Ye may depend on them, Jock! And noo, as yer business is done, ye may gang.” The Sergeant did not wish him to resume his wild talk, as he had threatened to do.
Jock crossed his arms, and gazed on the Sergeant as if he would look him through. Then grasping his own throat, and looking wildly, he said: ”It's come! it's come! The evil speerit is chokin' me! He is here like a cannon ball! I maun speak, or my head will rive! I maun curse Porteous, and the kirk, and religion, and elders, and Sabbath days, and a' thing guid!” and his eyes flashed fire.
The Sergeant could not make him out, as they say. He was disposed to think him insane, though he had never heard Jock's name a.s.sociated with anything save recklessness of character. He therefore did nothing but return the gaze of the excited man. Katie, unwilling to sit in the same room with him, had retired to her bedroom. Mary sat at the fireside with her book in evident alarm.
”I hate them!” repeated Jock, almost grinding his teeth.
”What do ye mean, Jock?” asked Adam, quietly but firmly. ”Do you want to quarrel wi' me?”
”I mean,” said Jock, bending towards the Sergeant, ”that noo the fingers o' religion are grippin' _yer_ windpipe and chokin' ye, as the evil speerit is grippin' and chokin' me--that noo ye hae ministers an' elders o' religion kicking ye in the glaur, lauchin at ye, bizzin at ye as a blackguard--that noo when e'en Luckie Craigie an' Smellie ca' ye bad, as a' folks hae ca'ed me a' my days--I thocht,” he continued, with a sarcastic grin, ”that ye wad like ane waur than yersel' to speak wi' ye, and, if ye liked, to curse wi' ye! Aha, lad! I'm ready! Say the word, and Jock Hall's yer man. I ha'e poower noo in me for ony deevilry.
Begin!”
The Sergeant experienced what is called in Scotland a _grew_--the sort of s.h.i.+ver one feels in a nightmare--as if a real demoniac was in his presence. Fascinated as by a serpent, he said, ”Say awa', Jock, for I dinna understan' ye.”
On this Jock became apparently more composed. But when with a suppressed vehemence he was again beginning to speak, it struck the Sergeant to interrupt the current of his pa.s.sionate thoughts, on the plea that he wished to hear Mary her lesson. His object was, not only to calm Jock, but also to get the child out of the room.
”Mary,” he said, after having a.s.sured her there was no cause of fear, and placing her between his knees, ”wha should we trust?”
”G.o.d!” replied Mary.
”Why?” asked the Sergeant.
”Because his name is Love, and He is our Faither.”
”Richt, Mary; and we ought a' to love our Faither, for He loves us, and to love our neebour as ourselves. Gang awa' ben to your mither noo. Ye hae done weel.”
When the door of the bedroom was shut, Jock Hall said, ”That's Luckie Craigie's la.s.sie? Fine woman, Luckie! Kindly bodie! A gude hoose is hers to sen' a puir orphan to. Ha! ha! ha! Keep us a'!--it's a warld this, far ower guid for me! But Luckie is like the lave, and Smellie, to do him justice, as he has mony a time done tae me, is no waur than Luckie:
'When hungry gledds are screichin', An' huntin' for their meat, If they grip a bonnie birdie, What needs the birdie greet?'
An' ye're to pay yersel' for the la.s.sie, Smellie says; an' ye're to teach her! A fine lesson yon! Ha! ha! ha! Jock Hall lauchs at baith o'
ye!”
The Sergeant was getting angry. Hall seemed now to be rather a free-and-easy blackguard, although there was a weird gleam in his eye which Adam did not understand; and in spite of his self-respect, he felt a desire to hear more from Jock. So he only remarked, looking steadily at him, ”Jock! tak' care what ye say--tak' care!”
”Oo ay,” said Hall. ”I'm lang eneuch in the warld to ken _that_ advice!
But what care I for the advice o' you or ony man? It was for me, nae doot, ye intended that lesson? I'm as gleg as a fish rising to a flee!
The la.s.sock said we should love our faither! Hoo daur you or ony man say that tae me?” Then, leaning forward with staring eyes and clenched fist, he said, ”I hated my faither! I hated my mither! They hated me.