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Page 17
"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want."
So far it was plain and comforting. "He maketh me to lie down in
green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters."
Nae, the pastures were brown, or purple and yellow with heather
and gorse. Rocks cropped out everywhere, and the peaty tarps were
mostly bleak and frozen. The broad Firth was ever ebbing and
flowing with the restless sea, and the burns bickering down the
glens. The minister of the little hill kirk had said once that in
England the pastures were green and the lakes still and bright;
but that was a fey, foreign country to which Auld Jock had no
desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, if he would feel at home in
God's heaven, and if there would be room in that lush silence for
a noisy little dog, as there was on the rough Pentland braes. And
there his thoughts came back to this cold prison cell in which he
could not defend the right of his one faithful little friend to
live. He stooped and lifted Bobby into the bed. Humble, and eager
to be forgiven for an offense he could not understand, the loving
little creature leaped to Auld Jock's arms and lavished frantic
endearments upon him.
Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that
was broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his
neighbors. It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled
murmur at the casements, and every other lodger was out, that
Auld Jock slept soundly. He awoke late to find Bobby waiting
patiently on the floor and the bare cell flooded with white
glory. That could mean but one thing. He stumbled dizzily to his
feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of high housetops,
the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, he looked
away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to
heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine.
"The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!" he
cried, with the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift
Bobby to the wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and
roaring around in his head. Staggering back he crumpled up in a
pitiful heap on the floor.
Bobby licked his master's face and hands, and then sat quietly
down beside him. So many strange, uncanny things had happened
within the last twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly
outgrowing his irresponsible puppyhood. After a long time Auld
Jock opened his eyes and sat up. Bobby put his paws on his
master's knees in anxious sympathy. Before the man had got his
wits about him the time-gun boomed from the Castle.
Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and
then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld
Jock got up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid.
In feeling for his woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr.
Trail had dropped into his pocket for Bobby.
The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay. Mr.
Traill had believed him to be so ill that he "wouldna be oot the
morn." It was a staggering thought.
The bells of St. Giles broke into "Over the Hills and Far Away."
The melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the
garret was on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street.
It brought to him again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it
reminded Bobby that it was dinner-time. He told Auld Jock so by
running to the door and back and begging him, by every pretty
wile at his command, to go. The old man got to his feet and then
fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering again. Bobby ate
the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock's feet, that
dangled helplessly from the bed. The bells died away from the
man's ears before they had ceased playing. Both the church and
the University bells struck the hour of two then three then four.
Daylight had begun to fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and
did a strange thing: taking from his pocket a leather bag-purse
that was closed by a draw-string, he counted the few crowns and
shillings in it and the many smaller silver and copper coins.
"There's eneugh," he said. There was enough, by careful spending,
to pay for food and lodging for a few weeks, to save himself from
the charity of the infirmary. By this act he admitted the
humiliating and fearful fact that he was very ill. The precious
little hoard must be hidden from the chance prowler. He looked
for a loose brick in the fireplace, but before he found one, he
forgot all about it, and absent-mindedly heaped the coins in a
little pile on the open Bible at the back of the bed.
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