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He felt, too, in some dim degree which yet had practical results, that the boy was taking divine vengeance upon him, heaping on his head the coals of that consuming fire which is love, which is our God. And when the first shame was over, the thought of Truffey came back with healing on his lonely heart.
I wonner that ye tak sic pains wi' me, sir, whan I was sic a nickum." The master could not reply. But he was more grateful for Truffey's generous forgiveness than he would have been for the richest living in Scotland. Such forgiveness is just giving us back ourselves clean and happy. And for what gift can we be more grateful? He vowed over again to do all he could for Truffey.
Thereafter he was silent. Johnstone and the farm-lad ran down the river-side. Truffey had started for the bridge again, having tied up his crutch with a string. Thomas remained kneeling, with his arms stretched out as stiff as the poles of a scaffold, and the joints of his clasped fingers buried in the roots of the grass.
And I presume that from slow changes produced in the climate by cultivation, there may be a less fall of water now than there used to be; for in some parts of that country the rivers have, within the memory of middle-aged men, considerably decreased in volume. That evening, in the schoolmaster's lodgings. Truffey sat at the tea-table triumphant.
At this moment, the first of the crowd from the Wan Water reached the bridge-foot. Amongst them came the schoolmaster. Truffey was making desperate efforts to reach the bank. His mended crutch had given way, and he was hopping wildly along. Murdoch Malison saw him, and rushed upon the falling bridge.
The maiden daughter of the late schoolmaster gave a shriek, and went into a small fit; after which an awful, quite sepulchral silence reigned for a few moments, broken only by those quivering sobs from Truffey, whom his grandfather was feebly and ineffectually shaking. At length the precentor, George Macwha, who had for some time been turning over the leaves of his psalm-book, came to the rescue.
As soon as that was over, he set off at a swinging pace for the old grandfather's cottage. What passed there was never known. The other Truffey came to school the next day as usual, and told the boys that his brother was in bed. In that bed he lay for many weeks, and many were the visits the master paid him. This did much with the townsfolk to wipe away his reproach.
This made him think of the mill, and he hurried off to see what the miller was doing. Truffey went stumping through the rain and the streams to the morning school. Gladly would he have waited on the bridge, which he had to cross on his way, to look at the water instead. But the master would be there, and Truffey would not be absent.
For Mr Malison had returned to his seat and had laid his head down on the desk, evidently to hide his emotion. "Haud yer tongue, Curly. Dinna leuk at him," returned Alec. "He's sorry for poor Truffey." Every one behaved to the master that day with marked respect. And from that day forward Truffey was in universal favour. Let me once more assert that Mr Malison was not a bad man.
Had the spectators remained upon it, the bridge might have stood. But one of the crowd was too much absorbed in watching the cottage to heed the sudden commotion around him. This was Truffey, who, leaning wearily on the parapet with his broken crutch looking over it also at his side, sent his soul through his eyes to the cottage window.
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