Part 7 (1/2)

Bildy's hero-wors.h.i.+p of my brother increased as time went by. He regularly came to Ma.s.s, and obedient to Robina's instructions sat still and looked ”straicht at Father Fleming.” On one particular Sunday, when we had a priest staying with us (an old friend of Val's), the latter invited him to preach. This did not suit Bildy at all. After Ma.s.s he walked home alone, not waiting for Robina, who was chatting with her neighbors outside the church, and showed by his manner that something was amiss. Widow Lamont put down her book, in which she had been piously reading her ”Prayers for Ma.s.s,” and accosted him with the usual formula:

”Weel, Bildy, what kind o' preachin' had ye the day?”

But the answer was not that which they took a simple pleasure in drawing from him usually. Bildy began to bite his hand--a trick he had when annoyed.

”That's nae preachin',” he cried indignantly. ”Yon monnie canna'

preach! Wha's the reason Father Fleming canna' preach the day? Eh!”

(with withering contempt.) ”Sic a monnie preach!”

The diminutive, in Bildy's phraseology, implied depreciation; that was why he stigmatized a regular six-footer as a ”monnie.”

When Doddy came to Ardmuirland, Bildy discovered his real vocation!

Doddy--or, in English, Georgie--was the orphan child of Robina's sister. His father had married a second wife and had gone out to Canada, and Widow Lamont had insisted upon having the little chap with her; for his father and step-mother were both Protestants, and Doddy stood little chance of being reared in the faith of his baptism. So the man agreed, and undertook to pay a trifle weekly for the child's keep, until he could earn something for himself.

Doddy was almost a baby--not more than four, and quite small of his age; but he soon discovered that he had a slave at his beck and call in the spellbound Bildy. The man seemed to wors.h.i.+p the little fellow.

Whenever Bildy was free from his ordinary occupations he was playing with Doddy, as though they were both children--with this difference: Doddy was always the tyrant, and Bildy the submissive subject.

It was a proof of the man's absolute harmlessness that he never so much as touched any one who angered him. Sometimes other children, attracted by Doddy, would come to join in the games, and often drove poor Bildy away. He would slink off, the picture of misery, and make his way home, biting his hand--his only sign of displeasure.

When Doddy was five, and had to attend school, Bildy would watch with the utmost patience the road by which the child had to return, until he caught sight of the tiny figure in the distance; then he would run to meet Doddy with every demonstration of joy, pick him up, set him on his shoulder, and amble off up the hill to the cottage.

Bildy had been about six years in Ardmuirland, and had become a favorite with every one. The poor fellow was so unfeignedly pleased to receive any little notice from any one that all accosted him kindly, and no one in the district would have dreamed of causing him unhappiness. Doddy had grown into a sharp little lad of seven, and was no longer so dependent upon Bildy for companions.h.i.+p. Yet Bildy did not relinquish altogether his post of guardian, but kept a wary eye upon the movements of his little master, ready at all times to do his bidding.

Winter set in that year unusually early. At the beginning of December earth and water were bound in the chains of a very hard frost. Nothing could more delight the heart of a schoolboy, and those of Ardmuirland were in their element. There was a small, shallow pond close by the schoolhouse, and there they were able to slide and sport about to their hearts' content. But children are changeful. When the frost had lasted more than two whole weeks, the little pond was not exciting enough. There was a mountain lake about a mile farther on, a much larger piece of water. Thither the more adventurous spirits determined to go one holiday afternoon. Doddy, who was precocious for his years, made up his mind to go too, proud in being the companion of much bigger boys. Unluckily, none of the parents of the boys had any idea of the proposed adventure; had they known, the project would have been sternly prohibited. It is possible that the young adventurers knew this and kept the matter quiet.

But Doddy's faithful guardian had watched the boy steal off, to be met by five or six others, and followed them at a distance. He did not venture to join the party openly, fearing to be driven off ignominiously, as he often had been before on other occasions. By the time he reached them they had been some half-hour at the lake, and had most of them ventured cautiously to try the bearing power of the ice.

The long frost had made this quite safe in most parts; but, unluckily, the lads were not aware that there were other portions where rising springs prevented the water from freezing much, if at all. As long as they kept near to the place upon which they had first set foot all was well; but security made them venturesome. They started a game of s.h.i.+nty, and threw themselves into the sport with fervor.

Bildy, partly hidden behind the bushes which skirted the water, watched the game with interest, his eyes on his beloved Doddy. Suddenly, while he looked on, Doddy disappeared, and a shout of terror arose from the other boys, who were too full of fear to do much toward helping the unfortunate child, though one or two slid down prostrate and tried to crawl to the hole into which Doddy had fallen, in order to help him out with their sticks.

It remained for Bildy to come to their a.s.sistance. With a frightened cry the man rushed over the ice to the spot, and regardless of the cautions which the others shrilled at him, plunged into the water.

Doddy had fallen in where there was only very thin ice around the edge of an open sheet of water. Luckily, it was shallow for a man, though it covered the child. Bildy managed to seize the boy and rose up gasping from the pool, holding Doddy aloft. He seated the frightened child on his shoulder, and was able to keep half his own body out of the water. Thus they remained till help came in the shape of one or two farm-servants, who had been summoned by the screams of the boys.

It was not a difficult matter to get the two out of the water safely; indeed, any one more sensible than poor Bildy could have lifted the child onto thicker ice, after wading some paces in the water. Both were s.h.i.+vering with cold and drenched with water, which froze on their clothes during their hurried progress home to bed.

The after-effects were not serious, as far as Doddy was concerned. He got a severe cold, but nothing worse--not taking into account the castigation administered with a good-will by his ”auntie.” With poor Bildy it was different. He had been in the ice-cold water far longer than the boy, and a serious attack of pneumonia was the result. The poor fellow had probably little stamina. He did not rally, even when the climax seemed to have been successfully pa.s.sed, but grew weaker every day.

”Robina Lamont wants me to go to that poor fellow,” Val said one day.

”She wants me to do what I can for him, as the doctor gives no hope of recovery. I can baptize him conditionally, of course, and I am starting now. Would you like to come, Ted?”

I was most anxious to accompany him, and we set out at once for the Lamonts' cottage.

Bildy looked frightfully wasted; his face was the color of parchment, and his brown eyes looked enormously large and startlingly bright. But what touched me more than his emaciated appearance was the wonderful expression of emotion which shone from those large eyes as we appeared at the bedside; they looked at Val with the yearning affection that one sees sometimes in a faithful dog. The poor fellow put out his white, wasted hand to Val with evident delight.

”Bildy's been wearyin' for ye, Father,” said Robina. ”He's often cried out for Father Fleming.”