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"I deserve a reproof, Andrew, for I have earned it," answered Jamie; and there was an air of candid regret in his manner which struck Christina, but which was not obvious to Andrew as he added, "I'll not lie to you, anent the matter." "You needn't. Nothing in life is worth a lie." "That may be, or not be. But it was just this way.
Jamie, a little cross and very sleepy, was taken home to his bed at The Cedars in a half-awake condition; and afterwards Elsie and Arnold strolled along Miss Ryan's garden in the gloaming, the happiest pair of lovers that ever saw the moon rise over Rushbrook in silent peace. "Something told me that the day would have a good ending," said Mrs. Lennard, as she wished Elsie good-night.
There was still a light in her window; but David St. Clair did not come. Her window stood open, and Jamie listened hard to hear if she were crying. Shortly after midnight the birds in the square began to twitter, as if it were nearly dawn. Then they went to sleep again, but Jamie went on smoking. It was daylight when St. Clair appeared, in a carriage.
Jamie took the tin can and went out along the Gray-stone road for about a mile and entered a pasture where three cows were grazing. He was weak and nervous. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands trembled. He had never milked a cow. He had no idea of the difficulty involved in catching a cow and milking her in a pasture.
Peeping round the corner of the oaken partition that separated the manhole from the apartment, he beheld a sight which filled his heart with gladness, for there, seated on a camp-stool, with his back leaning against the dresser, his face lighted up by the blaze of a splendid fire, which burned in a most comfortable-looking kitchen range, and his hands drawing forth most pathetic music from a violin, sat his old friend Joe Dumsby, while opposite to him on a similar camp-stool, with his arm resting on a small table, and a familiar black pipe in his mouth, sat that worthy son of Vulcan, Jamie Dove.
Well, if, at the end of the ten days, when you unlace me, I smile up at you in the same way, will you give a sack of Bull Durham and a package of brown papers to Morrell and Oppenheimer?" "Ain't they the crazy ginks, these college guys," Captain Jamie snorted. Warden Atherton was a choleric man, and he took my request for insulting braggadocio.
The group got their heads together and looked with serious faces at the cup. "There's a ship comin' across th' sea an' I see a letther!" "It's for me, I'll bate," Jamie said. "No, dear, it's fur me." "Take it," Jamie said, "it's maybe a dispossess from oul Savage th' landlord!" She took Jamie's cup. "There's a wee bit of a garden wi' a fence aroun' it."
The old woman looked fondly at her boy. "Ask her, then, Jamie; ask her, and give her the chance. She's a daft creature, but bonny; and you love her, I see." Jamie pinched up his rosy features and squirmed upon his chair. "Can I do anything for ye, mither? Then I think I'll go out and take a bit o' pipe in the streets with John Hughson."
He had done wrong in the first place to take the watch from Lucy without his father's permission. He must be taught to respect other people's property and other people's rights. He must learn to think, and learn to be careful. Here was a chance for a lesson. "Jamie," said she at last, "I am glad you wish to atone for the wrong you have done; it shows a proper spirit.
Squirming around upon his chest, Jamie arose to a kneeling position, and then stood erect. So far as his legs were concerned he was free. Jamie's first impulse was to run wildly away, but he restrained himself. Standing over the men he looked down upon them. Neither had moved, and to all appearances they were sleeping as soundly as ever.
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