Page:Martha Spreull by Zachary Fleming.pdf/63

Rh the chair, an’ hauf-a-dizzen wabs o’ salvage flannel that were stooket on the flair behind her, she gripped the wee callant by the cuff o’ the neck, an’ nearly shaket him oot o’ his bit jacket. “ What’s wrang wi’ ye, mistress ? ” qioth the laddie, looking up in the wumman’s face, unco terrified-like.

“Wrang!” she cried, lood enough to draw a crood aboot her. “Wrang! ye young keelie; I have often heard o’the like o’ ye in this sinfu’ ceety, but my certie I’ll mak’ ye suffer for’t. Gie me that five-pound note this meenit, or I ’ll cuff yer ears to ye.”

I needna say hoo the thing wis explained, but as ye may weel believe, I got her oot as sune as I could, and lost nae time in gettin’ her up to the College Station, where, according to appointment, her husband wis waiting for her.

I can tell ye I wis gled to get the wumman aff my hauns. She wis in an unco fluster, an’ I couldna get a word wi’ the minister by himsel’, for she keepit her e’e weel on him. But as we gaed up the platform, he slipped an envelope into my haun.

When I got hame I found, to my surprise, it contained a cheque in payment o’ my accoont. There wis also a letter, written in pencil, saying he had borrowed this sum frae an auld college frien’ wha had settled in guid practice as a doctor. Nae doot it wis robbin’ Peter to pay Paul. But, thinks I, that’s nae business o’ Paul’s.

“Ye can keep the fiddle-case,” says he in a postscript, “for both my wife and my session are opposed to instrumental music.”

“ Weel,” thinks I, “ Noo that justice has been appeased, it’s no’ worth my while to fa’ oot wi’ the man aboot the custody o’ a fiddle-case.”