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robert falconer-第105章

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not accepted it。  She was but a sickly plant grown in a hot…house。

On his death…bed he found a woman a hiding…place from the wind; a

covert from the tempest; the shadow of a great rock in a weary land!

A strong she…angel with mighty wings; Mary St。 John came behind him

as he fainted out of life; tempered the burning heat of the Sun of

Death; and laid him to sleep in the cool twilight of her glorious

shadow。  In the stead of trouble about a wilful; thoughtless girl;

he found repose and protection and motherhood in a great…hearted

woman。



For Ericson's sake; Robert made some effort to preserve the

acquaintance of Mr。 Lindsay and his daughter。  But he could hardly

keep up a conversation with Mr。 Lindsay; and Mysie showed herself

utterly indifferent to him even in the way of common friendship。  He

told her of Ericson's illness: she said she was sorry to hear it;

and looked miles away。  He could never get within a certain

atmosphere ofwhat shall I call it? avertedness that surrounded

her。  She had always lived in a dream of unrealities; and the dream

had almost devoured her life。



One evening Shargar was later than usual in coming home from the

walk; or ramble rather; without which he never could settle down to

his work。  He knocked at Robert's door。



'Whaur do ye think I've been; Robert?'



'Hoo suld I ken; Shargar?' answered Robert; puzzling over a problem。



'I've been haein' a glaiss wi' Jock Mitchell。'



'Wha's Jock Mitchell?'



'My brither Sandy's groom; as I tellt ye afore。'



'Ye dinna think I can min' a' your havers; Shargar。  Whaur was the

comin' gentleman whan ye gaed to drink wi' a chield like that; wha;

gin my memory serves me; ye tauld me yersel' was i' the mids o' a'

his maister's deevilry?'



'Yer memory serves ye weel eneuch to be doon upo' me;' said Shargar。

'But there's a bit wordy 'at they read at the cathedral kirk the

last Sunday 'at's stucken to me as gin there was something by

ordinar' in 't。'



'What's that?' asked Robert; pretending to go on with his

calculations all the time。



'Ow; nae muckle; only this: 〃Judge not; that ye be not judged。〃I

took a lesson frae Jeck the giant…killer; wi' the Welsh giantwas

't Blunderbore they ca'd him?an' poored the maist o' my glaiss

doon my breist。  It wasna like ink; it wadna du my sark ony ill。'



'But what garred ye gang wi' 'im at a'?  He wasna fit company for a

gentleman。'



'A gentleman 's some saft gin he be ony the waur o' the company he

gangs in till。  There may be rizzons; ye ken。  Ye needna du as they

du。  Jock Mitchell was airin' Reid Rorie an' Black Geordie。  An'

says Ifor I wantit to ken whether I was sic a breme…buss

(broom…bush) as I used to besays I; 〃Hoo are ye; Jock Mitchell?〃

An' says Jock; 〃Brawly。  Wha the deevil are ye?〃  An' says I; 〃Nae

mair o' a deevil nor yersel'; Jock Mitchell; or Alexander; Baron

Rothie; eitherthough maybe that's no little o' ane。〃 〃Preserve

me!〃 cried Jock; 〃it's Shargar。〃〃Nae mair o' that; Jock;〃 says I。

〃Gin I bena a gentleman; or a' be dune;〃an' there I stack; for I

saw I was a muckle fule to lat oot onything o' the kin' to Jock。 And

sae he seemed to think; too; for he brak oot wi' a great guffaw; an'

to win ower 't; I jined; an' leuch as gin naething was farrer aff

frae my thochts than ever bein' a gentleman。 〃Whaur do ye pit up;

Jock?〃  I said。 〃Oot by here;〃 he answert; 〃at Luckie

Maitlan's。〃〃That's a queer place for a baron to put up; Jock;〃

says I。 〃There's rizzons;〃 says he; an' lays his forefinger upo' the

side o' 's nose; o' whilk there was hardly eneuch to haud it ohn

gane intil the opposit ee。 〃We're no far frae there;〃 says Ian'

deed I can hardly tell ye; Robert; what garred me say sae; but I

jist wantit to ken what that gentleman…brither o' mine was efter;

〃tak the horse hame;〃 says I〃I'll jist loup upo' Black

Geordiean' we'll hae a glaiss thegither。  I'll stan' treat。〃  Sae

he gae me the bridle; an' I lap on。  The deevil tried to get a

moufu' o' my hip; but; faith!  I was ower swack for 'im; an' awa we

rade。'



'I didna ken 'at ye cud ride; Shargar。'



'Hoots!  I cudna help it。  I was aye takin' the horse to the watter

at The Boar's Heid; or The Royal Oak; or Lucky Happit's; or The

Aucht an' Furty。  That's hoo I cam to ken Jock sae weel。  We war

guid eneuch frien's whan I didna care for leein' or sweirin'; an'

sic like。'



'And what on earth did ye want wi' 'im noo?'



'I tell ye I wantit to ken what that ne'er…do…weel brither o' mine

was efter。  I had seen the horses stan'in' aboot twa or three times

i' the gloamin'; an' Sandy maun be aboot ill gin he be aboot

onything。'



'What can 't maitter to you; Shargar; what a man like him 's aboot?'



'Weel; ye see; Robert; my mither aye broucht me up to ken a' 'at

fowk was aboot; for she said ye cud never tell whan it micht turn

oot to the weelfaur o' yer advantagegran' words!I wonner whaur

she forgathert wi' them。  But she was a terrible wuman; my mither;

an' kent a heap o' thingsmair nor 'twas gude to ken; maybe。  She

gaed aboot the country sae muckle; an' they say the gipsies she gaed

amang 's a dreadfu' auld fowk; an' hae the wisdom o' the Egyptians

'at Moses wad hae naething to do wi'。'



'Whaur is she noo?'



'I dinna ken。  She may turn up ony day。'



'There's ae thing; though; Shargar: gin ye want to be a gentleman;

ye maunna gang keekin' that gate intil ither fowk's affairs。'



'Weel; I maun gie 't up。  I winna say a word o' what Jock Mitchell

tellt me aboot Lord Sandy。'



'Ow; say awa'。'



'Na; na; ye wadna like to hear aboot ither fowk's affairs。  My

mither tellt me he did verra ill efter Watterloo till a fremt

(stranger) lass at Brussels。  But that's neither here nor there。  I

maun set aboot my version; or I winna get it dune the nicht。'



'What is Lord Sandy after?  What did the rascal tell you?  Why do

you make such a mystery of it?' said Robert; authoritatively; and in

his best English。



''Deed I cudna mak naething o' 'm。  He winkit an' he mintit (hinted)

an' he gae me to unnerstan' 'at the deevil was efter some lass or

ither; but whamy lad was as dumb 's the graveyard about that。  Gin

I cud only win at that; maybe I cud play him a plisky。  But he

coupit ower three glasses o' whusky; an' the mair he drank the less

he wad say。  An' sae I left him。'



'Well; take care what you're about; Shargar。  I don't think Dr。

Anderson would like you to be in such company;' said Robert; and

Shargar departed to his own room and his version。



Towards the end of the session Miss St。 John's reports of Ericson

were worse。  Yet he was very hopeful himself; and thought he was

getting better fast。  Every relapse he regarded as temporary; and

when he got a little better; thought he had recovered his original

position。  It was some relief to Miss St。 John to communicate her

anxiety to Robert。



After the distribution of the prizes; of which he gained three;

Robert wen
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