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He had the gate in his hand, but I dinna think he kent 'at he was swingin't back an' forrit. At last he let it go. "'That's a', he said, 'I maun awa. Good-nicht, an' thank ye kindly. "I watched 'im till he gaed oot o' sicht. He gaed doon the brae." We learnt afterwards from the gravedigger that some one spent great part of that night in the graveyard, and we believe it to have been Jamie.
At last I was too tired to go on. And so I bade the lads good-nicht, and they gave me a great cheer, and faded away into the blackness. And I went inside, rubbing my eyes, and wondering if it was no all a dream! "It wasn't Sir Douglas Haig who arrived, was it, Harry?" Godfrey said, slyly. The next morning I was tired, as you may believe.
"Ye'll be wantin' wet," he said adroitly. "Ay, we could do wi' a drappin'. And he'll never mak' a sheep-dog." He shoved his cap down on his head. "Weel, good-nicht to ye!" and he stepped out into the rain. It was long after dark when the bargain was finally struck.
"For Goad's sake, kiss him, and say 'Good-Nicht, and hae done with it!" As already stated, Private Wamphray was returned to his platoon next morning. But to regard the Buzzer simply and solely as a troglodyte, of sedentary habits and caustic temperament, is not merely hopelessly wrong: it is grossly unjust. Sometimes he goes for a walk under some such circumstances as the following.
"'The engine gaed ower him, and he's lyin' dead at Market Street. "I didna faint, and I couldna greet. Something gied a crack inside my head, and my e'en swam for a minute; but the next I was putting on my bonnet and shawl and saying good-nicht to Mrs. Thomson. They tried to stop me. I heard Tam whisper to the auld man, 'She maunna see him. He is mangled oot o' the shape o' man.
M'Adam answered, eyeing the dark track on the floor. Then he put on his coat. "Na, na, he's no for me. Weel, I'll no detain ye. Good-nicht to ye, mister!" and he made for the door. "A gran' worker he'll be," called the drover after him. "Ay; muckle wark he'll mak' amang the sheep wi' sic a jaw and sic a temper. Weel, I maun be steppin'. Good-nicht to ye." "Ye'll niver have sich anither chanst."
"Good-night, Billy!" came from inside the coach as it rolled away; and "Good-night, Billy!" echoed the sweet voice of the child. "Good-nicht to both o' ye!" he shouted, standing to watch them until the carriage disappeared into the darkness.
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