Alec Forbes of Howglen. George MacDonald

Alec Forbes of Howglen - George MacDonald


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interrupted by the interference of the master, but a pantomimic gesture conveyed to the General sufficient assurance of the retentiveness of Cadger's memory in regard to Juno and her favours. Such messages and replies, notwithstanding more than one licking, kept passing the whole of the morning.

      Now Juno was an animal of the dog kind, belonging to Robert Brace. She had the nose and the legs of a bull-dog, but was not by any means thorough-bred, and her behaviour was worse than her breed. She was a great favourite with her master, who ostensibly kept her chained in his back-yard for the protection of his house and property. But she was not by any means popular with the rising generation. For she was given to biting, with or without provocation, and every now and then she got loose—upon sundry of which occasions she had bitten boys. Complaint had been made to her owner, but without avail; for he only professed great concern, and promised she should not get loose again, which promise had been repeatedly broken. Various vows of vengeance had been made, and forgotten. But now Alec Forbes had taken up the cause of humanity and justice: for the brute had bitten Annie, and she could have given no provocation.

      It was soon understood throughout the school that war was to be made upon Juno, and that every able-bodied boy must be ready when called out by the General. The minute they were dismissed, which, at this season of the year, took place at three o'clock, no interval being given for dinner, because there was hardly any afternoon, the boys gathered in a knot at the door.

      "What are ye gaein' to do, General?" asked one.

      "Kill her," answered Alec.

      "What way?"

      "Stane her to death, loons, like the man 'at brak the Sabbath."

      "Broken banes for broken skins—eh? Ay!"

      "The damned ill-faured brute, to bite Annie Anderson!"

      "But there's nae stanes to be gotten i' the snaw, General," said

      Cadger.

      "Ye gomeril! Ye'll get mair stanes nor ye'll carry, I doobt, up o' the side o' the toll-road yonner. Naething like road-metal!"

      A confused chorus of suggestions and exclamations now arose, in the midst of which Willie Macwha, whose cognomen was Curly-pow, came up. He was not often the last in a conspiracy. His arrival had for the moment a sedative effect.

      "Here's Curly! Here's Curly!"

      "Weel, is't a' sattled?" asked he.

      "She's condemned, but no execute yet," said Grumpie.

      "Hoo are we to win at her?" asked Cadger.

      "That's jist the pint," said Divot.

      "We canna weel kill her in her ain yard," suggested Houghie.

      "Na. We maun bide our time, an' tak her when she's oot aboot," said the

      General.

      "But wha's to ken that? an' hoo are we to gather?" asked Cadger, who seemed both of a practical and a despondent turn of mind.

      "Noo, jist haud yer tongues, an' hearken to me," said Alec.

      The excited assembly was instantly silent.

      "The first thing," began Alec, "is to store plenty o' ammunition."

      "Ay, ay, General."

      "Haud yer tongues.—Whaur had we best stow the stanes, Curly?"

      "In oor yard. They'll never be noticed there."

      "That'll do. Some time the nicht, ye'll a' carry what stanes ye can get—an' min' they're o' a serviceable natur'—to Curly's yard. He'll be o' the ootluik for ye. An,' I say, Curly, doesna your riggin-stane owerluik the maist o' the toon?"

      "Ay, General."

      "Ye can see our hoose frae't—canna ye?"

      "Ay."

      "Weel, ye jist buy a twa three blue lichts. Hae ye ony bawbees?"

      "Deil ane, General."

      "Hae than, there's fower an' a bawbee for expenses o' the war."

      "Thank ye, General."

      "Ye hae an auld gun, haena' ye?"

      "Ay have I; but she's nearhan' the rivin'."

      "Load her to the mou', and lat her rive. We'll may be hear't. But haud weel oot ower frae her. Ye can lay a train, ye ken."

      "I s' tak care o' that, General."

      "Scrumpie, ye bide no that far frae the draigon's den. Ye jist keep yer ee—nae the crookit ane—upo' her ootgoins an' incomins; or raither, ye luik efter her comin oot, an' we'll a' luik efter her gaein in again. Jist mak a regiment o' yer ain to watch her, and bring ye word o' her proceedins. Ye can easy luik roun the neuk o' the back-yett, an' nobody be a hair the wiser. As sune as ever ye spy her lowse i' the yard be aff wi' ye to Willie Macwha. Syne, Curly, ye fire yer gun, and burn the blue lichts o' the tap o' the hoose; and gin I see or hear the signal, I'll be ower in seven minutes an' a half. Ilka ane o' ye 'at hears, maun luik efter the neist; and sae we'll a' gether at Curly's. Fess yer bags for the stanes, them 'at has bags."

      "But gin ye dinna see or hear, for it's a lang road, General?" interposed Cadger.

      "Gin I'm no at your yard, Curly, in saiven minutes an' a half, sen' Linkum efter me. He's the only ane o' ye 'at can rin. It's a' that he can do, but he does't weel.—Whan Juno's ance oot, she's no in a hurry in again."

      The boys separated and went home in a state of excitement, which probably, however, interfered very little with their appetites, seeing it was moderated in the mean time by the need and anticipation of their dinners.

      The sun set now between two and three o'clock, and there were long forenights to favour the plot. Perhaps their hatred of the dog would not have driven them to such extreme measures, even although she had bitten Annie Anderson, had her master been a favourite, or even generally respected. But Alec knew well enough that the townsfolk were not likely to sympathize with Bruce on the ill-treatment of his cur.

      When the dinner and the blazing fire had filled him so full of comfort that he was once more ready to encounter the cold, Alec could stay in the house no longer.

      "Where are you going, Alec?" said his mother.

      "Into the garden, mamma."

      "What can you want in the garden—full of snow?"

      "It's just the snow I want, mamma. It won't keep."

      And, in another moment, he was under the clear blue night-heaven, with the keen frosty air blowing on his warm cheek, busy with a wheelbarrow and a spade, slicing and shovelling in the snow. He was building a hut of it, after the fashion of the Esquimaux hut, with a very thick circular wall, which began to lean towards its own centre as soon as it began to rise. This hut he had pitched at the foot of a flag-staff on the green- lawn would be too grand a word for the hundred square feet in front of his mother's house, though the grass which lay beneath the snowy carpet was very green and lovely grass, smooth enough for any lawn. In summer Alec had quite revelled in its greenness and softness, as he lay on it reading the Arabian Nights and the Ettrick Shepherd's stories: now it was "white with the whiteness of what is dead;" for is not the snow just dead water? The flag-staff he had got George Macwha to erect for him, at a very small outlay; and he had himself fitted it with shrouds and a cross-yard, and signal halliards; for he had always a fancy for the sea, and boats, and rigging of all sorts. And he had a great red flag, too, which he used to hoist on special occasions- on market-days and such like; and often besides when a good wind blew. And very grand it looked, as it floated in the tide of the wind.

      Often he paused in his work, and turned- and oftener without raising himself he glanced towards the town; but no signal burned from the ridge of Curly's house, and he went on with his labour. When called in to tea, he gave a long wistful look townwards, but saw no sign. Out again he went, but no blue fire rejoiced him that night with the news that Juno was ranging the streets; and he was forced to go to bed at last, and take refuge from his disappointment in sleep.

      The next day he strictly questioned all his officers as to the manner in which they had fulfilled their duty, and found no just cause of complaint.

      "In


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