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But as soon as the chariot reached a part of the hill where the slope was less, it turned a little to one side, and Scroggie fell off, drawing half of the load after him. My men rushed in with shouts of defiant onset, but were arrested by the non-resistance of the foe. I sprung to seize Scroggie. He tried to get up, but fell back with a groan. The moment I saw his face, my mood changed.
Help, however, although unrecognized as such, was making its way through the ranks of the enemy. They parted asunder, and Scroggie, still lame, strode heavily up to the gate. Recalling nothing but his old enmity, I turned once more and implored Davie. "Do run, Davie, dear! it's all up," I said; but my entreaties were lost upon Davie.
The lame leg went searching gently about, but could find no rest for the sole of its foot, for there was no projecting cross bar upon this side; the repose upon the top was anything but perfect, and the leg suspended behind was useless. The long and the short, both in legs and results, was, that there Scroggie stuck; and so long as he stuck, I was safe.
I shrank back from Scroggie, wishing Turkey, who was still at the other end of the bridge, would make haste. "Wasn't it fun, Ranald?" said Scroggie. "You don't think I was so lame that I couldn't get over that gate? I stuck on purpose." Turkey joined us with an inquiring look, for he knew how Scroggie had been in the habit of treating me. "It's all right, Turkey," I said.
Falconer's door and that of the school, I do not know. There was a report amongst his school-fellows that he had been found by Scroggie, the fish-cadger, lying at full length upon the back of his old horse, which, either from compassion or indifference, had not cared to rise up under the burden.
She spoke of the wild white moor, cut with deep hags, the arms of the "scroggie" thorns blown away from the sea and clawing at the ground like spectral hands, black beneath, but every gnarled knuckle and digit outlined in purest white above.
When the doctor came, we got a mattress from a neighbouring house, laid it on the wagon, lifted Scroggie on the top, and dragged him up the hill and home to his mother. I have said a little, but only a little, concerning our master, Mr. Wilson.
Turning again in despair, I saw the lame leg being hoisted over the gate. A shudder ran through me: I could not kick that leg; but I sprang up and hit Scroggie hard in the face. I might as well have hit a block of granite. He swore at me, caught hold of my hand, and turning to the assailants said: "Now, you be off! This is my little business. I'll do for him!"
"Scroggie stuck on the gate on purpose." "A good thing for you, Ranald!" said Turkey. "Didn't you see Peter Mason amongst them?" "No. He left the school last year." "He was there, though, and I don't suppose he meant to be agreeable." "I tell you what," said Scroggie: "if you like, I'll leave my school and come to yours. My mother lets me do as I like."
I set Davie down, and, holding his hand, breathed again. There was a scurry and a rush, a splash or two in the water, and then back came Oscar with his innocent tongue hanging out like a blood-red banner of victory. He was followed by Scroggie, who was exploding with laughter. Oscar came up wagging his tail, and looking as pleased as if he had restored obedience to a flock of unruly sheep.
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