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Page 24
Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard
was yet a place of solitude and peace. The building had the
dignity that only old age can give. It had lost its tower by an
explosion of gunpowder stored there in war time, and its walls
and many of the ancient tombs bore the marks of fire and shot.
Within the last decade some of the Gothic openings had been
filled with beautiful memorial windows. Despite the horrors and
absurdities and mutilation of much of the funeral sculpturing,
the kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as became its fame as
Scotland's Westminster. And, there was one heavenward outlook and
heavenly view. Over the tallest decaying tenement one could look
up to the Castle of dreams on the crag, and drop the glance all
the way down the pinnacled crest of High Street, to the dark and
deserted Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the turreted heights
wore a luminous crown, and the steep ridge up to it twinkled with
myriad lights. After a time the caretaker offered a
well-considered opinion.
"The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye
barkin'. It'd be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the
kirkyaird, an' no' mak' a blatterin'."
As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in
upsetting this theory. "The Highland breed are no' like ordinar'
terriers. Noisy enough to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye
a reason and he'll lie a' the day under a whin bush on the brae,
as canny as a fox. You gave Bobby a reason for hiding here by
turning him out. And Auld Jock was a vera releegious man. It
would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to hold his tongue in
a kirkyard."
"Man, he did that vera thing." James Brown brought his fist down
on his knee; for suddenly he identified Bobby as the snappy
little ruffian that had chased the cat and bitten his shins, and
Auld Jock as the scandalized shepherd who had rebuked the dog so
bitterly. He related the incident with gusto.
"The auld man cried oot on the misbehavin' tyke to haud 'is gab.
Syne, ye ne'er saw the bit dog's like for a bairn that'd haen a
lickin'. He'd 'a' gaen into a pit, gin there'd been ane, an' pu'd
it in ahind 'im. I turned 'em baith oot, an' told 'em no' to come
back. Eh, man, it's fearsome hoo ilka body comes to a kirkyaird,
toes afore 'im, in a long box."
Mr. Brown was sobered by this grim thought and then, in his turn,
he confessed a slip to this tolerant man of the world. "The wee
deil o' a sperity dog nipped me so I let oot an aith."
"Ay, that's Bobby. He would no' be afraid of onything with hide
or hair on it. Man, the Skye terriers go into dens of foxes and
wildcats, and worry bulls till they tak' to their heels. And
Bobby's sagacious by the ordinar'." He thought intently for a
moment, and then spoke naturally, and much as Auld Jock himself
might have spoken to the dog.
"Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!"
Instantly the little dog stood before him like some conjured
ghost. He had slipped from under the slab on which they were
sitting. It lay so near the ground, and in such a mat of dead
grass, that it had not occurred to them to look for him there. He
came up to Mr. Traill confidently, submitted to having his head
patted, and looked pleadingly at the caretaker. Then, thinking he
had permission to do so, he lay down on the mound. James Brown
dropped his pipe.
"It's maist michty!" he said.
Mr. Traill got to his feet briskly. "I'll just tak' the dog with
me, Mr. Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him
and send him hame. As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog
to be living neglected. Come awa', Bobby."
Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill
stooped and lifted him.
From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay
still a moment on the man's arm. Then, with a lithe twist of his
muscular body and a spring, he was on the ground, trembling,
reproachful for the breach of faith, but braced for resistance.
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