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Updated: June 17, 2025
He rose, turned swiftly, saw a bottle swinging, threw up his hand... and fell backwards against the bed. The woman caught his bleeding head to her breast and hugged it. "My Jock, my poor boy!" she cried in delirium now. Cawley had thrown his arms about the struggling, drunken assailant Jock's poaching friend.
That afternoon the real business of ranching began. Lew Cawley was sent out with Tresler to instruct him in mending barbed-wire fences. A distant pasture had been broken into by the roving cattle outside. Lew remained with him long enough to show him how to strain the wires up and splice them, then he rode off to other work.
Cawley," he said, "I can't make up to you what Jock would have been; but I can do for you in one way as much as Jock. This house is yours from to-day." He drew a deed from the coverlet, and handed it to her. He had got it from Sir William that morning. The poor and the crude in mind can only understand an objective emotion, and the counters for these are this world's goods.
Grouped around it we find Savary, the military engineer; Newcomen, the Dartmouth blacksmith; Cawley, the glazier; Potter, the engine-boy; Smeaton, the civil engineer; and, towering above all, the laborious, patient, never-tiring James Watt, the mathematical-instrument maker.
B Company, as we have seen, did extraordinarily well under his command. The following N.C.O.'s were promoted to commissioned rank at Souastre for bravery and good conduct in the field: Sergts. Wickens, Ross, Turner, Rogers, Cawley and Crust. The two latter gained command of B and A Companies respectively during 1918. These appointments were most gratifying to officers and men of the Battalion.
Thomas Cawley, the next witness, says that he has known the prisoner for twenty years and upwards; that he was intimate in the family, and never saw any other than the behaviour of a dutiful daughter from her. Thomas Staverton, that he has known the prisoner five- or six-and-twenty years; that he has lived near the family, and always thought that her father and she were very happy in each other.
He rose, turned swiftly, saw a bottle swinging, threw up his hand . . . and fell backwards against the bed. The woman caught his bleeding head to her breast and hugged it. "My Jock, my poor boy!" she cried in delirium now. Cawley had thrown his arms about the struggling, drunken assailant Jock's poaching friend.
But, herself on her way out of the world, as she feared, wished the truth, whatever it might be. Gaston told Cawley that he would drive over at once, and then asked who it was had called out at him. A drunken, poaching fellow, he was told, who in all the years since Jock had gone, had never passed the inn without stopping to say: "Where's my old chum, Jock Lawson?"
With Savery and Cawley, he invented and in 1705 patented the atmospheric steam-engine by which he is known, and which, as told by Arago, gave place to the superior invention of Watt.
He sat down again, and in response to her questioning gaze, began the story of Jock's life as he knew it. Cawley stood leaning on the foot-board; the woman's face was cowled in the quilt with hungry eyes; and Gaston's voice went on in a low monotone, to the ticking of the great clock in the next room.
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