John Dobert [pp. 560-566]

y7OHN DOBERT.
ed Samuel Angus, whom John recognized as the son of Laird Angus, owner of
the estate to which his mother's little
holding belonged, whose house lay half
a mile farther from Graypool on the
same road he must daily travel, John's
attention was specially and unavoidably
directed-as also, indeed, in time that of
Mr. Roman himself-a discovery which
was at once followed by a descent cane
in hand upon that pugnacious heir of a
noble house. So unmistakable, however, was this young gentleman's determination of vengeance, and so well acquainted with his character was Dominie Roman, that, in pure pity for his
Protelg, he dismissed him half an hour
before Angus would be at liberty to
take his homeward road.
Vain precaution! Master Sam had a
gray Shetland pony, while poor John had
to walk, and when within 200 yards of the
house of his mother-who, good soul,
did not expect him yet, and was busy
with Jane preparing dinner - he was
aware of a furious galloping behind him,
and lo! Sam Angus reined up beside
him, and flung himself on the road out
of the saddle-to which, indeed, for reasons connected with that morning's discipline, he was far from being in anything
like a fit condition to sit as closely as
usual; while the pony, all in a lather,
trotted on home. The interview that
followed was unhampered by any of the
formalities usual between persons whose
acquaintance is of short standing. Supplementing John's name by several appellations unknown to the ordinary books
of baptismal registry, from the indignant
height of his sixteen years Sam requested an explanation of that morning's unheard-of proceedings. Swiftly diverging
from the subject in hand, he went on in
a highly irrelevant manner to demand
information concerning various points
of the dumbfounded youth's appearance
and attire; winding up by a passionate
volley of disconnected invective, and an
energetic intimation of his wish that the
"mean, dirty, little, old-fashioned sneak"
before him should take off his coat, so
that he (Samuel) might proceed to "lamm
the life and soul out of him," with as little impediment as might be; emphasizing this last by a kick that sent John's
strap of books flying against the hedge,
and a blow between the eyes that sent
their owner after them. Worn out by
unusual exertion and excitement, and by
want of food since early morning, the
poor boy lay limp and senseless in a
dead faint among the thorns; and Sam
was thoroughly frightened and confounded. "Why, I didn't get giving him anything to what I had meant to, and there
he goes a-throwing up the sponge at the
first knock." But it was evidently a case
for exceptional action, so he gathered up
his victim as best he could, and carried
him with some difficulty on to the Doberts' cottage. Pulling the latch-string
with his teeth, he entered. And what a
sight he had to show the two hopeful,
loving faces inside! Fortunately John
just then began to gather his senses
again, and the wild cry of his mother
and sister made him open his eyes.
Sam laid him on a long settle beside
the fire, and stood back, offering an apologetic "We've been fighting," as all the
explanation he was just then able to
give. It was a pitiful, brutal business
he had been engaged in, and his warm
heart absolutely sickened with remorse
as he saw the old woman and the girl
washing the poor, bruised, wan face,
white as the hawthorn blossoms entangled in the long curly black hair. Tenderly they took off the new homespun
woolen coat, looking sadly at a great
rent it had; and the old mother took his
head on her lap. In a minute or two,
John sat up and asked for his books.
Sam eagerly ran out, and soon returned
with them and the little straw-hat that
lay beside them. Then shamefacedly
muttering a hope that "all was right
562
[DEC.