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The Lieutenant-General and Peter were engaged in an animated conversation on the deck, and the great man, usually as silent as the sphinx and not less inscrutable, was evidently contesting with some warmth and great interest, as though hard put to keep his end up, some point of debate propounded to him by Peter. "T , old chap," I said, "Peter'll be a great man some day."
Ah, don't be forgettin' the little jug though, the little weeny jug with a rose on it. Sure, what are ye crying for, woman! Isn't it great grandeur for the little jug to be goin' up to Monavoe? Bedad, ould Peter'll be apt to be puttin' it undher a glass case on the chimley-piece!"
Go and see him, then, for heaven's sake, and help us all out of this miserable predicament." Peter was still silent, staring down at the dark ribbon of shining water that lapped against two old brick walls, a shut lane full of stars. Peggy, her hand on his arm, said gently, "Oh, Peter'll do his best for us, of course he will, won't you, Peter." Peter sighed very faintly into the dark night.
"It's mair than me and Peter'll do, then," said Spens, who had been consulting with the other farmer. "We're gaun as straucht hame as the darkness 'll let us." With few more words the Session parted, Spens and Tosh setting off for their farms, and Hendry accompanying the precentor. No one will ever know where Dow went. I can fancy him, however, returning to the wood, and there drawing rein.
"I took them out of the harness-room; a pirate must have boots, you know, but I'm afraid Peter'll swear." "Not a doubt of it when he sees them," I said as we pushed off. "I wish," he began, looking round thoughtfully after a minute or so, "I wish we could get a plank or a yardarm from somewhere." "What for, my Imp?"
"Do you mean to tell me you've pawned my clothes?" he shouts. "Me and Peter did," ses Ginger, sitting up in bed and getting ready for a row. Isaac dropped on the bed agin all of a 'cap. "And wot am I to do?" he ses. "If you be'ave yourself," ses Ginger, "and give us our money, me and Peter'll go and get 'em out agin. When we've 'ad breakfast, that is. There's no hurry."
I've given you to the widow Babcock, and you are to ride in the procession with her. She has promised me not to laugh once on the way or even to allude to anything cheerful! Be persuaded! . . . Well, I'm sorry. I'll have to give your place to Peter, I suppose. And I'll tell the widow she can be natural and gay: Peter'll not mind! Good-bye! I can't shake hands with you."
No, I don't believe I do," she said, as if she was finding it out with a little surprise. Rhoda saw her one day in July. "We shall miss you," said Rhoda dully. "And me you," said Lucy, with a more acute sense of it. "Peter'll miss you dreadfully," said Rhoda. She was lying on the sofa, pale and tired in the heat.
I'm sure Peter'll get into trouble before long. He did the same sort of thing yesterday. Sergeant Hyndman was in charge of us and we were standing to attention. Peter started talking you could hear him as loud as anything. Hyndman got his rag out and yelled, 'Stop talkin' there, will yer? Peter dropped his voice and went on in a whisper.
"Vermin o' the land, an' mischeevious reptiles they are, an' the mair deid rats we see the morn's mornin' the better pleased Peter'll be," said the old man as they were planning the hunt. Alan kept a ferret, which he offered to bring, and he thought he could borrow his brother Herbert's fox-terrier, which was a famous ratter. "That's a' richt," agreed the old man.
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