Alec Forbes of Howglen. George MacDonald
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an' it shanna happen again, gin I can help it."
"Tell's wha did it, than."
"I wonno say names."
"He's ane o' them."
"The foul thief tak him! I s' gie him a hidin'," said a burly sutor (shoemaker) coming up. "Thae loons are no to be borne wi' ony langer."
And he caught Alec by the arm.
"I didn't do it," persisted Alec.
"Wha killed Rob Bruce's dog?" asked the sutor, squeezing Alec's arm to point the question.
"I did," answered Alec; "and I will do yours the same guid turn, gin he worries bairns."
"And quite richt, too!" said the sutor's wife. "Lat him gang, Donal.
I'll be boun' he's no ane o' them."
"Tell's a' aboot it, than. Hoo cam ye up there?"
"I gaed up to tak the divot aff o' Lucky Lapp's lum. Spier at her. Ance up I thocht I micht gie the lave o' ye a gude turn, and this is a' I get for't."
"Weel, weel! Come in and warm ye, than," said the shoemaker, convinced at last.
So Alec went in and had a chat with them, and then went on to George
Macwha's.
The carpenter took to his scheme at once. Alec was a fair hand at all sorts of tool-work; and being on the friendliest terms with Macwha, it was soon arranged that the keel should be laid in the end of the workshop, and that, under George's directions, and what help Willie chose to render, Alec should build his boat himself. Just as they concluded these preliminaries, in came Willie, wiping some traces of blood from his nose. He made a pantomimic gesture of vengeance at Alec.
"What hae ye been efter noo, laddie?" asked his father.
"Alec's jist gien me a bluidy nose," said Willie.
"Hoo cam' that aboot? Ye weel deserved it, I hae nae doobt. Jist gie him anither whan he wants it, Alec."
"What do ye mean, Curly?" asked Alec in amazement.
"Yon divot 'at ye flang aff o' Luckie Lapp's riggin'," said Curly, "cam' richt o' the back o' my heid, as I lay o' the brae, and dang the blude oot at my niz. That's a'.—Ye'll preten' ye didna see me, nae doobt."
"I say, Curly," said Alec, putting his arm round his shoulders, and leading him aside, "we maun hae nae mair o' this kin' o' wark. It's a dam't shame! Do ye see nae differ atween chokin' an ill-faured tyke an' chokin' a puir widow's lum?"
"'Twas only for fun."
"It's ill fun that baith sides canna lauch at, Curly."
"Rob Bruce wasna lauchin' whan he brocht the bick to the schuil, nor yet whan he gaed hame again."
"That was nae fun, Curly. That was doonricht earnest."
"Weel, weel, Alec; say nae mair aboot it."
"No more I will. But gin I was you, Curly, I wad tak Lucky a seck o' spales the morn."
"I'll tak them the nicht, Alec.—Father, hae ye an auld seck ony gait?"
"There's ane up i' the laft. What want ye wi' a seck?"
But Curly was in the loft almost before the question had left his father's lips. He was down again in a moment, and on his knees filling the sack with shavings and all the chips he could find.
"Gie's a han' up wi't, Alec," he said.
And in a moment more Curly was off to Widow Lapp with his bag of firing.
"He's a fine chield that Willie o' yours, George," said Alec to the father. "He only wants to hae a thing weel pitten afore him, an' he jist acts upo' 't direckly.
"It's weel he maks a cronie o' you, Alec. There's a heap o' mischeef in him. Whaur's he aff wi thae spells?"
Alec told the story, much to the satisfaction of George, who could appreciate the repentance of his son; although he was "nane o' the unco guid" himself. From that day he thought more of his son, and of Alec as well.
"Noo, Curly," said Alec, as soon as he re-appeared with the empty sack, "yer father's gaein to lat me big a boat, an' ye maun help me."
"What's the use o' a boat i' this weather?" said Curly.
"Ye gomeril!" returned his father; ye never luik an inch afore the pint o' yer ain neb. Ye wadna think o' a boat afore the spring; an' haith! the summer wad be ower, an' the water frozen again, afore ye had it biggit. Luik at Alec there. He's worth ten o' you.
"I ken that ilka bit as weel's ye do, father. Jist set's aff wi' 't, father."
"I canna attend till't jist i' the noo; but I s' set ye aff wi' 't the morn's nicht."
So here was an end to the troubles of the townsfolks from the loons, and without any increase of the constabulary force; for Curly being withdrawn, there was no one else of sufficiently inventive energy to take the lead, and the loons ceased to be dangerous to the peace of the community. Curly soon had both his head and his hands quite occupied with boat-building.
CHAPTER XXI.
Every afternoon, now, the moment dinner was over, Alec set off for the workshop, and did not return till eight o'clock, or sometimes later. Mrs. Forbes did not at all relish this change in his habits; but she had the good sense not to interfere.
One day he persuaded her to go with him, and see how the boat was getting on. This enticed her into some sympathy with his new pursuit. For there was the boat—a skeleton it is true, and not nearly ready yet for the clothing of its planks, or its final skin of paint—yet an undeniable boat to the motherly eye of hope. And there were Alec and Willie working away before her eyes, doing their best to fulfil the promise of its looks. A little quiet chat she had with George Macwha, in which he poured forth the praises of her boy, did not a little, as well, to reconcile her to his desertion of her.
"Deed, mem," said George, whose acquaintance with Scripture was neither extensive nor precise, "to my mind he's jist a fulfilment o' the prophecee, 'An auld heid upo' young shouthers;' though I canna richtly min' whilk o' the lesser prophets it is that conteens 't."
But Mrs. Forbes never saw a little figure, lying in a corner, half-buried in wood-shavings, and utterly unconscious of her presence, being fast asleep.
This was, of course, Annie Anderson, who having heard of the new occupation of her hero, had, one afternoon, three weeks before Mrs. Forbes's visit, found herself at George's shop door, she hardly knew how. It seemed to her that she had followed her feet, and they had taken her there before she knew where they were going. Peeping in, she watched Alec and Willie for some time at their work, without venturing to show herself. But George, who came up behind her as she stood, and perceived her interest in the operations of the boys, took her by the hand, and led her in, saying kindly:
"Here's a new apprentice, Alec. She wants to learn boat-biggin."
"Ou! Annie, is that you, lassie? Come awa'," said Alec. "There's a fine heap o' spales ye can sit upo', and see what we're aboot."
And so saying he seated her on the shavings, and half-buried her with an armful more to keep her warm.
"Put to the door, Willie," he added. "She'll be cauld. She's no workin', ye see."
Whereupon Willie shut the door, and Annie found herself very comfortable indeed. There she sat, in perfect contentment, watching the progress of the boat—a progress not very perceptible to her inexperienced eyes, for the building of a boat is like the building of a city or the making of a book: it turns out a boat at last. But after she had sat for a good while in silence, she looked up at Alec, and said:
"Is there naething