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D Addttkxial comments / Commentaires suppiementaires: This ittm it filmed •! the rtduction rttio chackMl betow/ Ce docufmnt «t f ilmt au taux de rMuclion indiqirf ci-dtnous. lOX 14X tax 22X 2SX KX J ~ I2X 16X 20X 2«X 711 X ^~^ ' ' Th* copy lllinad hara hu baan raproducad thankt to tha ganaroaity of: University of Manitobi WinnifMfi L'axamplaira film* fut raprodult griea * l« gantroalta da: Univinity of Manitob* Winnlptg Tha Imagat appaaring hara ara tha baat quality poaaibia conaldaring tha condition and laglblllty of tha original copy and In kaaping with tha fllmint contract spaclfleatloni. Laa Imagaa lulvantaa ont M raprodultaa avac la plua grand toln, compta tanu da la condition at da la nattatt da Taxamplalra f llmi, at an conformM avae laa conditions du contrat da fllmaga. Original coplaa In printad papar covara ara fllmad baglnning with tha front eovar and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or lllustratad Impraa- ■lon, or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original coplaa ara fllmad baglnning on tha firat paga with a printad or llluatratad Impraa alon, and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or llluatratad Impraaalon. Laa axamplalraa origlnaux dont la couvartura an paplar aat Imprimta aont fllmia an commandant par la pramlar plat at an tarmlnant iolt par la darnMra paga qui comporta una ampralnta d'Impraaalon ou d'llluatratlon, aolt par la tacond plat, salon la eaa. Toua laa autraa axamplalraa origlnaux aont f llmte an commandant par la pramMro paga qui comporta una ampralnta d'Impraaalon ou d'llluatratlon at an tarmlnant par la damltra paga qui comporta una talla ampralnta. Tha laat racordad frama on aach microflcha shall contain tha symbol ^»- Imaaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol ▼ Imaaning "END"), whiehavar appllaa. Maps, plataa, charta, ate., may ba fllmad at diffarant raducdon ratloa. Thoaa too larga to ba antlraly Includad In ona axposurs ara fllmad baglnning In tha uppar laft hand cornar, laft to right and top to bottom, aa many framaa aa raqulrad. Tha following diagrama lllustrata tha mathod: Un daa aymbolas sulvanta apparaltra sur la darnMra Imaga da chaqua microflcha. salon la eas: la aymbola — » signlfia "A SUIVRE". la symbola ▼ signlfia "FIN". Laa cartaa, planchaa, tablaaux, ate. pauvant ttra flimta k daa taux da rMuetlon difftranta. Loraqua la documant aat trop grand pour ttra raprodult an un saul clleh«, II aat flimt i partir da I'angia aup4rlaur gaucha, da gaucha i drolta, at da haut an baa, an pronant la nombra d'Imagaa n«caasalra. Laa diagrammaa sulvanta llluatrant la mlthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MiaOCOfY tESOtUTKm TBT CHA>T (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 12a 2.0 1.8 I II m m m ^ APPLIED IIVHGE Inc ^S"^ ^653 East Main Streel S^= RochaiUr, New York 14609 USA "■^= (7'6) *a2 - 0330 - Phon« ^= (716) 268 - 5989 - Fax T-.-Wji 3f: S^' T6e flOUSE LV •v-i-v, i J« iM'^^T>o»^i THE HOUSE WITH THE aSEEN SHUTTEBS I WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS BY Cocotito / f THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, U\A,ED '' 1902 Cofiyrig/if^ igoif h Mc-CL"RE, PHILLIPS V CO. EllillTH llU'KKSSllIN TO Viliiam a^ar^ I THE HOUSE WITH THE OBEEN SHUTTEBS iulLTI^ chamber-maid of the "Bed Lion" had Zltf'f '""''"'^ '^' ^^°"* ^'^' »t«P«- Sh« rose a^ZZ r^^'^T- '^^' ''^'"S "^ ^•"^•"'ly habit, flung the water from her pail, straight out, without rno^ng from where she stood. The smooth rou^ S jL^O^ 7 water glistened for a moment in mid-air. he^ of the brae, could hear the swash of it when it fell. The morning was of perfect stillness. The hands of the clock across "the Square" were tttn' *" *'^ '""' °' ^•«''*- '^'^oy -- Aow ^ 1 Blowsalinda of the Bed Lion, picked up the big bass that usually lay within the porch and, .irrvine if clumsily against her bre««t n,..S„» „.._j^"^"^ '* clumsily ag.insther^r:;ru;:vXrr:und^ of the public house, her ™ttip„.f „..,,•»_ u.,.._" „ "If „* iu tf- 7 "'caoi, uiovea on round the compi of the public house, her petticoat gaping behind hTh way die met the ostler with whom she stopped to ^or ous drihance. He said something to h^ ^d she upteit;:r '"' ^"^""^- ^'^"'^ '-^»-h:s A moment later a cloud of dust drifting round the co«er, and floating white in the still air, IhewTd that Bhe was pounding the bass against the end of the hou^ THE HOUSE WITH THE GBEEN SHUTTERS All over the little town the women of Barbie were equally busy with their steps and door-mats. There was scarce a man to be seen either in the Square, at the top of which (Jourlay stood, or in the long street descending from its near corner. The men were at work; the chil- dren had not yet appeared; the women were busy with their household cares. The freshness of the air, the smoke rbing thin and far above the red chimneys, the sunshine glistering on the roofs and gables, the rosy clearness of everything beneath th ^ dawn, above all the quietness and peace, made Barbie, usually so poor to see, a very pleasant nlace to look down at on a summer morning. At this hour there was an unfamiliar delicacy in the familiar scene, a fresh- ness and purity of aspect— almost an unearthliness— as though you viewed it through a crystal dream. But it was not the beauty of the hour that kept Gourlay musing ' at his gate. He was dead to the fairness of the scene, even while the fact of its presence there before him iwove most subtly with his mood. He smokeH in silent enjoyment because on a morning such as this, everything he saw was a delicate flpttery to his pride. At the he- ginning of a new day to look down on the petty burgh m which he was the greatest man, filled all his being with a consciousness of importance. His sense of pros- , perity was soothing and pervasive; he felt it all round , him like the pleasant air, as real as that and as subtle; bathing him, caressing. It was the most secret and in- timate joy of his life to go out and smoke on summer : mornings bv his big gate, musing over Barbie ere he i possessed it with his merchandise. He had growled at the quarry carters for Being late in [2] CHAPTER ONE setting out this morning (for like most resolute dullards various that his men tuKcly start atT" T " p^tSt9Xx;ri-:^^Si-:s;:: the face to his enemies. " I'll shew them " h ih,l nroudlv " Th^„. >> „ ""' "^ thoiifrht, by h.s anxiety to flout it. He was not great nough for the carelessness of perfect scorn ^ Through the big green gate behind him came the sound of carts being loaded for the day A hn™ . standing idle bc.een the ^lAcL'ZkZlVa teadily agamst the ground with one impatient hide' -' foot, elink, chnk, clink upon the paved yard. "Easy damn ye; ye'Il smash the bricks! " came a voL £' there was the smart slap of an open hand on M neck e'reTfoVilSo"' ''' ""'^ "' '^''^^ ^ ^''^ ^^ ."'v' Jlnll " ''i'"* *"P''""" ^^™^^ *« '=•«'<'««, Jock, to voTce "And"" "'"'T. " *•= '""'''" '^""^ -0*" r voice. And canny on the top there wi' thae big feet o' yours; d'ye think a cheese was made for you to dance on ^Iri"''''' ^°?"-?" Then the voice sank to th lety, yet throaty from fear of being heard. "Hurrv un man-h„r>^ up, or he'll be down on us like bleezes ^o^^ being so late m getting off' " C3] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS Gourlay smiled, grimly, and a black gleam shot from his eye as he glanced round to the gate and caught the words. Ilis men did not know he could hear them. The clock across the Square struck the hour, eight soft slow strokes, that melted away in the beauty of the morning. Five minutes passed. Gourlay turned his head to listen, but no further sound came from the yard. He walked to the green gate, his slippers making no noise. " Are ye sleeping, my pretty men? " he said, softly. . . . "Eih?" The " Eih " leapt like a sword, with a slicing sharp- ness in its tone, that made it a sinister contrast to the iirst sweet question to his " pretty men." " Eih 1 " he said again, and stared with open mouth and fierce dark eyes. " Hurry up, Peter," whispered the gaffer, " hurry up, for Godsake. He has the black glower in his e'en." " Ready, sir; ready now! " cried Peter Biney, running out to open the other half of the gate. Peter was a wizened little man, with a sandy fringe of beard be- neath his chin, a wart on the end of his long, slanting- out nose, light blue eyes, and bushy eyebrows of a red- dish gray. The bearded red brows, close above the pale blueness of his eyps, made them more vivid by contrast; they were like pools of blue light amid the brownness of his face. Peter always ran about his work with eager alacrity. A simple and willing old man, he affected the quick readiness of youth to atone for his insignifi- cance. "Hup horse; hup then!" cried courageous Peter, walking backwards with curved body through the gate. CHAPTER ONE and tugging at the reins of a horse the feet of which struck sparks from the paved ground as they stressed painfully on edge to get weigh on the great waggon behind. The cart rolled through, then another, and another, tUl twelve of them had passed. Qourlay stood aside to watch them. All the horses were brown; " he makes a point of tliat," the neighbours would have told you. As each horse passed the gate the driver left its liead, and took his place by the wheel, cracking his whip, with many a "hup horse; yean horse; woa lad- steady! " In a dull little country town the passing of a single cart IS an event, and a gig is followed with the eye till It disappears. Anything is welcome that breaks the long monotony of the hours, and suggests a topic for the evening's talk. "Any news?" a body will gravely enquire; " Ou aye," another will answer with equal gravity, " I saw Kennedy's gig going paat in the forenoon." "Aye, man, where would he be of! till? He's owre often in his gig, I'm thinking—" and then Kennedy and his affairs will last them till bedtime. Thus the appearance of Gourlay's carts woke Barbie from its morning lethargy. The smith came out in his leather apron, shoving back, as he gazed, tlie grimy cap from his white-sweating brow; bowed old men stood m front of their doorways, leaning with one hand on short trembling staffs, while the .slaver slid unheeded along the cutties which the left hand held to their toothless mouths; white-mutched grannies were keeking past the jambs; an early urchin, standing wide-leggod to stare, waved his cap and shouted, " Hooray! "—and all because John Gourlay's carts were setting off upon [5] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS their morning rounds, 8 brave procession for a single town I Uourlay, standing great-shouldered in the mid- dle of the road, took in every detail, devoured it grimly as a homage to his pride. " Hat ha! ye dogs," said the soul within him. Past the pillar of the Red Lion door he could see a white peep of the landlord's waist- coat — though the rest of the mountainous man was hid- den deep within his porch. (On summer mornings the vast totality of the landlord was always inferential to the town from the tiny white peep of him revealed.) Even fat Simpson had waddled to the door to see the carts going past. It was fat Simpson — might the Uni- verse blast his adipose — who had once tried to infringe Gourlay's monopoly as the sole carrier in Barbie. There had been a rush to him at first, but Gourlay set his teeth and drove him off the road, carrying stuff for nothing till Simpson had nothing to carry, so that the local wit suggested "a wee parcel in a big cart" as a new sign for his hotel. The twelve browns prancing past would be a pill to Simpson! There was no smile about Gourlay's mouth — a fiercer glower was the only sign of his pride — but it put a bloom on his morning, he felt, to see the suggestive round of Simpson's waistcoat, down yonder at the porch. Simpson, the swine! He had made short work o' him] Ere the last of the carts had issued from the yard at the House with the Green Shutters the foremost was already near the Bed Lion. Gourlay swore beneath his brsath when Miss Toddle — described in the local records as "a spinster of independent means" — came fluttering out with a silly little parcel to accost one of the carriers. Did the auld fool mean to stop Andy Gow [6] CHAPTER ONE about her petty affairs— and thus break the line of carts on the only morning they had ever boon able to go down the brae together? But no. Andy tossed her parcel carelessly up among his other packages, and left her bawling instructions from the gutter, with a porten- tous shaking of her corkscrew curls. Gourlay's men took their cue from their master, and were contemptu- ous of Barbie, most unchivalrous scorners of ;ts old maids. Gourlay was pleased with Andy for snubbing Sandy Toddle's sister. When he and Elshic Hogg reached the Cross they would have to break off from tlie rest to complete their loads, but they had been down Main Street over night as usual picking up their commis- sions, and until they reached the Bend o' the Brae it was unlikely that any business should arrest them now. Gourlay hoped that it might be so, and he had his de- sire, for, with the exception of Miss Toddle, no customer appeared. The teams went slowly down the steep side of the Square in an unbroken line, and slowly down the street leading from its near corner. On the slope the horses were unable to go fast— being forced to stell themselves back against the lieavy propulsion of the carts behind; and thus the procession endured for a length of time worthy its surpassing greatness. When it disappeared round the Bend o' the Brae the watching bodies disappeared too; the event of the day had passed and vacancy resumed her reign. The street and tlie Square lay empty to the morning sun. Gourlay alone stood idly at his gate, lapped in his own satisfaction. It had been a big morning, he felt. It was the first time for many a year that all his men, quarry-men and [7] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN F MUTTERS carriers, cirtert of cheese and carters of grain, had led their teams down the brae together in the full view of his rivals. " I hope they liked iti " he thought, and be nodded several times at the town beneath his feet, with u slow up and down motion of the head, like a man nod- ding grimly to his beaten enemy. It was as if he said, " See what I have done to ye! " [81 II Only a ninn of fiourluyV bruto force of character could huvo ki'pt ull the currying trade of BarMe in hi« own hands. Even in these days of railways, nearly every parish has a pair of curriers at the least, journey- in)f once or twice u week to the nearest town. In the days when (fourluy was the great man of Barbie, rail- ways were only beginning to thrust themselves among the quiet hills, and the bulk of inland commerce was still being drawn by horses along the country roads. Yet Gourlay was the only carrier in the town. The wonder in diminished when we remember that it had been a decaying burgh for thirty years, und that its trude, ut the best ..I' times, was of meagre volume. Even so, it was astonishing that he should be the only carrier. If you asked the natives how he did it, " Ou," they said, " lie makes the one hand wash the other, doan't ye know? "—meaning thereby that he had 80 many horses travelling on his own business, that he could afford to carry other people's goods at rates ihat must cripple his rivals. " But that's very stupid, surely," said a visitor once, who thought of entering into competition. " It's cut- ting off his nose to spite his face! Why is he so inxious to be the only carrier in Barbie that he carries stufi for next to noathing the moment another man tries to work the roads? It's a daft-like thing to do!" [9J THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS o' "JL^ "r '."k • '" ''*' ""'" '•'" •'"'" ♦he .tupoHity htt e or noathmg from the carrying; but then, ye ,ee i g.e« him a fine chance to annoy folkl If you l/k him to bnng ye ocht. ' Oh.' he growk Til .ee if it huUh my own convenience.' And ye have to be content. He has Tot :„°d«rTd r"^ "' '"'" '"" "■« ''"•'« "^ '•""•'' -' that* ^Z.^n '^* 'T'T' "' ""''•''"' '''"'"'' »>o*«ver reprc,H,vene»B natural to the man and a fierce contempt of the.r scoffing envy. But it was true that he had 1.18 father (who had risen in the world) he inherited a the 1 V" '\'T- "'"^ "'•' ™"yi"K to Skeighan on the one «de and Fleckie on the other When he mar ned Miss Richmond of Tenshillingland, he started aJ a com broker with the snug dowj that she bSgh him. Then greatly to his own benefit, he succeeded m ..tablishmg a valuable connection with TemplS J^IT-^A^^^ "'"'*"■ '""P""* °f ^''"'^te' that Qour- % obtained bis ascendancy over hearty and careless Temp an „ and partly by a blulf jovfality which h -so httle cunning ,n other things-knew to affect among the petty lairds. The man you saw try ng to b1 Cr'*'' T^^P'-^dmuir, was a very diffeLt being from the autocrat who "downed" his fellows in Z immediate production of the big decanter More than ten years ajfo no«-, Tomplandmuir gave [10] CHAPTER PWO OourUv T '^""">-a...l that «,,. (|,.. .naki.u. „[ north .hrouKh H.l-^.l'an ' n". j-r;:!'"" "■""' Kr«'at doal of Imildi,,^ on tl... 1, ', '' *•"" " I'lv ooinod tl,u „,„ V I ."'. ■'""''*'""■■'"y'''"'• "- .|..arry had h ri 1 ." '""''' ""' ''"^'^^ .'xhuusfd down „ h U_but h . . ^":;'''" '■""■'' ''"^^' '"'J '-• ''"«lc ■airdonLh^iJ'idS. ;;:;;;;;;'-";"'■'••-•' t.u, the quar,7 horses g nemUy ' 5'"''^ " 7" """"" of brain. Yet he had ThTr ""^ *"""' ^'" "•^''^'•t rnindedh triumifnTh 'y ^'Z^' '*""" "-'■■• >-e with a «en.,e of T'r'na. d:f'"''I'';.T';-''''' ''"' "'"-^ ^•••" " they thought him-Z,M ^"' '"^""^ '^""''^y. « going, and'jea thel S Z^JTIV''"'''' "">' '^- dling in their old ^e'ern '''"1;ov "'' TI' """ """'- tonecrns^^ They consoled themselves THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS witli sneers, lie retorted with brutal scorn, and the feud kept increasing between them. They were standing at the Cross, to enjoy their Satur- day at e'en, when Gourlay's " quarriers " — as the quarry horses had been named — came through the town last week-end. There were groups of bodies in the streets, washed from toil to enjoy the quiet air; dandering slowly or gossiping at ease; and they all turned to watch the quarriers stepping bravely up, their heads tossing to the hill. The big-men-in-a-small-way glowered and said nothing. "I wouldn't mind," said Sandy Toddle at last, "I wouldn't mind if he weren't such a demned ess! " "Ess?" said tli? Deacon unpleasantly. He puck- ered his brow and blinked, pretending not to under- stand. " Oh, a cuddy, ye know," said Toddle, colouring. "Gourlay'th stupid enough," lisped the Deacon. " AVe all know that. But there'th one thing to be said on hith behalf. He's not such a ' demned ess ' as to try and thpeak fancy English! " When the Deacon was not afraid of a man he stabbed him straight. When he was afraid of him he stabbed him on the sly. He was annoyed by the passing of Gourlay's carts, and he took it out of Sandy Toddle. "It's e.xtr'ornar! " blurted the Provost (who was a man of brosey speech, large-mouthed and fat of utter- ance). "It's e.\tr'ornar. Yass; It's e.xtr'ornar! I mean the luck of that man — for gumption he has noan. Noan whatever! But if the railway came hereaway I wager Qourlay would go down," he added, less in cer- [12] CHAPTER TWO tainty of knowledge thHn as prophet of the thing de- sired. " I wager he'd go down, sirs." " Lilfely enough," said Sandy Toddle; " he wouldn't be quick enough to jump at the new way of doing." " Moar than that ! " cried the Provost, spite sharpen- ing his insight, " moar than that! He'd be owre dour to abandon the aul™t. an element peculiar to Itself, which endowed it with its warmest glow. Con- [16] CHAPTER THREE v.rseEublieo, nil %, " '" '"^ ''""- to be an ad- «pite of opposit on. Gourl • f '^'" "' *'""""P'^ '" the Provost'" hlln,!. 7 1 '".""'"P '" t''^ fa-^* to born and bred a ZrC «^ "P'^'on. But he had been oh, yes he knew th W'^f ^' ^"''^ '"^ townsmen- he'had nogYf "of the .ab ^^ t' ''"'^'"'■' ''~ or Bailie of Elder^ ^ ' 'nf •""''^ ""'" ^'^ ^'^^o'^' ' "' ^'•'^'•-o'- even Chairman of the Gasworks! [17] THE HOUSE WITH THE GKEEN SHUTTERS Oh, verra well, vcrra well; let Connal and Brodie and Allardyce have the talk, and manage the town's uffairs (lie was damned if they should manage his!)— he, for his part, preferred the substantial reality. He could never asi)i.v to the Provostship, but a man with u house like that, lie was fain to think, could afforf" to do with- out it. Oh, yes; he was of opinion he could do without it! It had run him short of cash to build the place so big and bra w, but. Lord! it was worth it. There wasn't a man in the town who had such accommodation! And so, gradually, his dwelling had come to be a passion of Gourlay's life. It was a by-word in the place that if ever Ms ghost was seen, it would be haunt- ing the House with the Green Shutters. Deacon Allar- dyce, trying to make a phrase with him, once quoted the saying in his presence. "Likely enough!" said Gourlay. "It's only reasonable I should prefer my own house to you rabble in the graveyard! " Both in appearance and position the house was a worthy counterpart of its owner. It was a substantial two-story dwelling, planted firm and gawcey on a little natural terrace that projected a considerable distance into the Square. At the foot of the steep little bank shelving to the terrace ran a stone wall, of no great height, and the iron railings it uplifted were no b'.gher than the sward within. Thus the whole house was bare to the view from the ground up, nothing in front to screen its admirable qualities. From each corner, be- hind, flanking walls went out to the right and left, and hid the yard and the granaries. In front of these walls the dwelling seemed to thrust itself out for notice. It took the eye of a stranger the moment he entered the [18] CHAPTER THREE 8quare-'M\l,„se ,,lac.c is that? " «as his natural quos- ton A house that <• iHengcs regard in that wav ^.ould have a galh.nt b.^vory in its l^k; if it, ^^^Z mean, Its assertive position but directs the eye to its in S'its ; ^""' •^■' '"*■''' "l'°° " brats it eanno jour notice a manifest blotch npon the world, a place for the wmds to whistle round. Bat Gourlay's house sa«sll "'""i '''^;" """"''"y '■'"'««». " drew and satistied your eye as he did. m^fitt l":'^'""'"'"'^'^ "P tl>ered at the pimp, «.th their big bare arms akimbo; " whatever led him to marry that dishclout of a won.an clean beats m7 I thJv irt .™'" 'r' ""■■ *"'' "''■ " ^^« f- the men, hey twisted every item about Gourlay and his domicile^ no fresh matter of assailment. " What's the news" ^ smith Zl '"*"'"^"^ ^""^ " '""« '''^"■nee-to whom the Gourlay has got new rones! " " Ha-aye, man, Goui- ay ha, got new rones!" bu.zed the' visitor, and iJher Z"TV;'""''"'?f '" ""^'b, twinkled a^ each other from out their ruddy wrinkles, as if wit had vol- Green Shut ers was on every tongue-and with a scoff in the voice if possible. [19] IV GoURLAY wont swiftly (() tlic kitchen from the inner yard. He had utmHl so long in silente on the step, and his coming was so noiseless, that he surprised a long thin trollop of a woman, with a long thin scraggy neck, seated hy the slatternly table, and busy with a frowsy paper-covered voluhie, over which her head was bent in intent perusal. " At your novelles? " said he. " Aye, woman; will it be a good story? " She rose in a nervous flutter when she saw h^- ; yet needlessly shrill in her defence, because she was angry at detection. " Ah, well! " she cried, in weary petulance, " it's an unco thing if a body's not to have a moment's rest after such a morning's darg! I just sat down wi' the book for a little, till John should come till his breakfast! " " So? " said tJourlay. " God aye! " he went on, " you're making a nice job of him. He'W be a credit to the House. Oh, it's right, no doubt, that you should neglect your work till he con- sents to rise." " Eh, the puir la-amb," she protested, dwelling on the vowels in fatuous maternal love, "the bairn's wea- ried, man! He's ainything but strong, and the school- ing's owre sore on him." [20] ,:»■ 'It CHAPTER FOUR "Poor Intiih, ahvr..|," said (ioiirlay. niucklc sliw'i) that ilroppi'd liim." It WHH Gourluy'H pride in l.iH I.ouhc that nmdc l.im harsher to hw wife than others, since her sluttishness was a constant offence to the order in wiiich he loved to have his dear possessions. He, for his part, liked every- thing precise. His claw-toed han.ii.er always hung 4 he head on a couple of nails close together near the big clock; his gun always lay across a pair of wood.m pegs projecting from the brown rafters, just abovt o hearth. II,s bigotry in trifles expressed his character ^trong men of a mean understanding often deliberatt'lv assume, and passionately defend, peculiarities of no im- portance becau.,e they have nothing else to get a repute for. No, no," said (iourlay; "you'll never see a brown cob in my gig_I wouldn't take one in a present!" He was full of such fads, and nothing should persuade him to alter the crotchets, wl ieh, for want of something better, he made the marks cf his doi.r character. He had worked them up as part of his personality, and his pride of personality was such that he would never con- sent to change them. Hence the burly and gurly man was pnm as an old maid with regard to his belongings Yet his wife was continually infringing the order on which he set his heart. If he went forward to the big clock to look for his hammer, it was sure to be gone-- the two b. ight nails staring at him vacantly. " Oh " she would say in weary complaint, " I just took it to break a wheen coals ";-and he would find it in the coal-hole greasy and grimy finger-marks engrained on the handle which he loved to keep so smooth and clean. Innumer- able her offences of the kind. Independent of these THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS the Bight of hor Ronoral incomputonei. filled him with a u'Hlnng ra«i., which found vent not in lengthy tirades but the H.uooth venom of his tongue. ].et liim keep the outsi.le of the House never so spick and span, inside was »«ry with her untidiness. She wuh unworthy of the Ions., with the Oreen Shutters-that was the gist of it I'.v.Ty time he set eyes on the poor trollop, the fresh )" rcrptmn of her incom|)etence which the sudden sight of her flashed, as she trailed aimlessly about, seemed to latlen his rage and give a coarser birr to his tongue Mrs. Gourlay had only four i)eople to look after, her husband, her two children, and Jock Oilmour, the orra man. And the wife of Dru'eken Wabster-who liad to go charing because she was the wife of Dru'eken Wabster-eame in every day, and all day long, to help her with the work. Yet the house was always in confu- sion. Mrs. Gourlay had asked for another servant, but (...urlay would not allow that; "one's enough," said he, and w^at he once laid down, he never went back on' Mrs. Gourlay had to muddle along as best she could, an.l having no strength either of mind or body, slie let things dnft and took refuge in reading silly fiction. As Gourlay shoved his feet into his boots, and stamped to make them easy, he glowered at the kitchen fiom under his heavy brows with a huge disgust. The table was httered with unwashed dishes! and In the cor- ner of ,t next him was a great black sloppy ring, show- lT.aH Tk" ""' "l"'''™" '""' '"'^" '"'■'J »P°" the bare board. The sun streamed through the window in yel- low heat right on to a pat of melting butter. There ZbM T", "* .^'"'y "'"*" '"""'"* tl^" t«We, with the dishcloth slopping over on the ground. [33] CHAPTER FOUB ^'^It'8nti'''• '" " "'"'';. ""' preoccupation of her I •*'» J THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS Her head hting u little to one Hide a- ij too heavy for her wdting neck. Her hair, of a dry rcTbrown curved low on either «ide of her brow, in a thiek nn t.dy n,a«B. to her almost tra«H,.„n.nt earl 1 Z eavy and relaxed, in unison with her mood- and through her open n.outh her breathing wa» qS and hort. and noiselesH. She wore no Htajn. and^h ^ .lack eotton blouse shewed the tlatness of hor Lom and There was soniething tragie in her jmse, as she stood elplessness, starmg in sorrowful vaeaney. But Oour- lay eyed her with disgust-why. by Heaven, eve. n", Oourlay The sight of her feebleness would have roused p.ty in some: Gourlay it moved to a st ady all seethmg rnge As she stood helpless before him e stung her with crude, brief irony. Yet he was not wilfully cruel ; only ■, stupid man with a strong character, in which he took a dogged pWde Stupidity and pride provoked the brute in him He w-as so dull-only dull is hardly the word for a man of his smouldering fire-he was so dour of wit that he could never hope to distinguish himself by any- thmg in the shape of cleverness. Yet so resolute a man must make the strong personality of which he was [34] I 'i i ' i CHAPTER FOUK A man Jn n..',, ,,! ^ ;;''"";;'.-"'7'PH.H. .anier. "n.le™tan.l.s. (l,.uHa „>, • ■ '""' ""'"•'' ''^' ""'^h' t» «neor at .v.ry ;;"'tV:;;' '"'^''''t.'-'^C. wan .bl.^ that; it's .I«,nn,..l ,„.,„^n,„, ■• " ' / '^"n ' -ndcrstun.l "f- If " that •• ha.M .. , .;„7, '" """ '"^ """"J" '-' met thoin. "■'"- '"hi 'hi'in so, if |,„ l,u,| The man luid nuulc <)n,r,r,,i to maintain hi.ns .. ' Hu , "",? '\Vri«t?" "Winder 1 .'r ""''^"";' " ^'^^ *^"1 ""> "hen uttered with a'oerta n . ' "'?'' "^ P"*™* ''•'"'y "•"lepourlayanad; ;„.";:; ^-g practice ha.{ those he dcspisrd or disliU •?, ' "" "''•*■'•■■ spoke to that he w„.s volublTof sS.". "' 7'"^ *""•" ^"^ f- '«ngthy abuse. H ' a^ ,S,"""'?.''''^^'' "'''"^h low, but every word from i '' "%'""1 his voice was «tah. And of^cn l' .Henc ' : J'""'' ''"'" ''P" '^^ « -^--ee. ie.r:;;irnL"ruaSt7"- THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS In those early dajs, to bo sure, Gourlay }iad less occa- sion for the use of his crude but potent irony, since the sense of his material well-being warmed him and made him less bitter to the world. To the substantial farm- ers and petty squires around he was civil, even hearty, in his manner — unless they offended him. For they liclongcd to the close corporation ot " bien men," and his familiarity with them was a proof to the world of bis greatness. Others, again, wore far too far beneath bim already for him to "down" them. He reserved his jibes for his immediate foes, the assertive bodies Ills rivals in the town — and for his wife, who was a constant eyesore.' As for her, he had baited the ])oor woman so long that it had become a habit; he never spoke to her without a sneer. " Aye, where have yoi, been stravaiging to? " he would drawl, and if she an- swered meekly, "I was taking a dander to the linn owre-bye," " Tlie linn!" he would take her up; "j'e had a heap to do to gang there; your Bible would (it you better on a bonny Sabljatli aftornune! " Or it might be: " What's that you're burying your nose in now?" and if she faltered, "It's the Bll)lo 'Hi!' would laugh, " you're turning godly in your auld age. Weel, I'm no saying hut it's time." "Where's Janet?" he demanded, stamping his boots once more, now be had them laced. "Kb? " said his wife vaguely, turning her eyes from the window. " Wha-at? " " Ye're not turning deaf, I liope. I was asking ye where Janet was." " I sent her down to Scott's for a can o' milk," she answered him wearily. [36] CHAPTER FOUR "Xo doubt yo l.„: to semWicr," said he. "What ails the lamb ' i-it jx- cGiilcioi' send him? Eh?" "Oh, she w. . Hhout »h, . 1 wanted the milk, and she v„ unteerec t. ,;„,,. y^^, it seems I never do a thing o please ye! « imt harm will it do her to run , lor a drop milk?" ■ 1 'VTT'" ',"' ""'' ^'''"'"'^■' " "°''"- ^^"J if* ■■ight, no 4 doubt, that her brother should still be a-bed-oh, if. 1 e£t' '^' '" "'"'"''' *^"' """■ l'^"'"'-'g''-«"«i"8 ''«'« the Mrs. Gourlay was what the Scotch call « browdened * on lie.r hoy. I„ .spite of her slack grasp on lif«-per- liaps, because of it-she clung with a tenacious fond- ness to ium He was all she had, for J.net was a thowless t thing, too like her mother for her mother to like her. And (Jourlay had discovered that it was one way of getting at his wife to he hard upon the thing she loved. In his desire to nag and annoy her, h« adopted a manner of hardness and repression to his son-wh.cn became permanent. He was always so because Janet was h.s own favourite-perbaps, again, because her mother seemed to neglect h<.r. Janc.t wa. a very unlov.ly ebild with a long tallowy face and a pimply brow, over which a stiff fringe of whitish hair came down almost ^0 her staring eyes, the eyes themselves being large pale blue, and saueer-like, with a great margin of un- healthy white. But (lonrlay, though he never petted lier, had a silent satisfaction in his daughter. He took *Browd,„„l: a Si>ot devotod to his children is said to be "browdenwl on his bairns." t TliowhsH, weak, useless. [ '^1 ] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS her about witli him in tlie gi^', on Saturday afternoons, when he went to buy cheese and grain at the outlying farms. And he fed her rabbits when she had the fever. It was a curious sight to see the dour silent man mixing oatmeal and wet tea-leaves in a saucer at the dirty kitch- en-table, and then marcliing off to the hutch, with the ridiculous dish in his hand, to feed his daughter's i)ets. A suddi'n yell of pain and alarm rang through the kitchen. It came from the outer yard. When the boy, peering from the window above, saw his father disappear through the scullery door, he stole out. The coast was clear at last. He passed through to the outer yard. Jock Gilmour had been dashing water on the pnved floor, and was now sweeping it out with a great whalebone besom. The hissing whalebone sent a splatter of dirty drops showering in front of it. .)iil,n set his bare feet wide (he was only in his shirt and knickers) and eyed the man whom his father had " downed " with a kind of silent Swagger. He felt suju'rior. His pose was in- stinct with the feeling: " My father is your master, and yc daurna stand up till him." Children of masterful sires often display that attitude towards dependants, The feeling is not the less real for being subeonseioua Jock Gilmour was still seething with a dour anger because Gourlay's quiet will had ground him to the task. When John came out and stood there, he felt tempted to vent on him, the spite he felt against his father. The subtle suggestion of criticism and superi- ority in the boy's pose intensified the wisli. Not that Gilmour acted from deliberate malice; his irritation [28j I CHAPTER FOUR was instinctive. Our wrath against those whom we fear is generally wreaked upon those whom we don't. John, with his hands in his pockets, strutted across the yard, still watching Gilmour with that silent ofTen- sive look. He came into the path of the whalebone. "Get out, you smeowt!" cried Gilmour, and with a vicious shove of the brush he sent a shower of dirty drops spattering about the boy's bare legs. "Hallo you! what are ye after?" bawled the boy. " Don't you try that on again, I'm telling ye. What are you, onyway. Ye're just a servant. Hay-ay-ay, my man, my faither's the boy for ye. He can put ye in your place." Gilmour made to go at him with the head of the whalebone besom. John stooped and picked up the wet lump of cloth with which (iilmour had been wash- ing down the horse's legs. "Would ye?" said Gilmcur, threateningly. "Would I no?" said John, the wet lump poised for throwing, level with his shoulder. But he did not throw it for all his defiant air. He hesitated. He would have liked to slash it into Gil- mour's face, but a swift vision of what would happen if he did, withheld his craving arm. His irresolution was patent in his face; in his eyes there was both a threat and a watchful fear. He kept the dirty cloth poised in mid-air. " Drap the clout, ' said Gilmour. " I'll no," said John. Gilmour turned sideways and whizzed the head of the besom round so that its dirty spray rained in the boy's face and eyes. John let him have the wet lump [3D] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS slash in his mouth. Oiimour dropi)ed the l was passionate in defence of her cub, and rage transformed lier. Her tense frame vibrated in anger: you wouUl scarce have recognised the A-cary trollop of the kitchen. " What's the matter, Johnny dear? " she cried, with a fierce glance at Gilmour. " Gilmour hut me! " he bellowed angrily. "Ye mucklo lump!" she cried shrilly, the two scraggy musclci! of her neck standing out long and thin as she screamed; "ye muckle lumji — to strike a defenceless wean!— Dinna greet, my lamb, I'll no let him meddle ye.— .lock Gilmour, how daur ye lift your finger to a wean of mine. But I'll learn ye the better o't! Mr. Gourlay'U gie you the order to travel ere the day's muckle aulder. I'll have no servant about my hoose to ill-use my bairn." She stopped, panting angrily for breath, and glared at her darling's enemy. "Your servant!" cried Gilmour in contempt. "Ye're a nice-looking object to talk about servants." He pointed at her slovenly dress and burst into a bla- tant laugh: " Huh, huh, huh! " Mr. Gourlay had followed more slowly from the kitehen as befitted a man cf his sup9rior character. He h«ard the row well enough, but considered it be- neath him to hasten to a petty squabble. " What's this? " he demanded, with a widening look. Gilmour scowled at the ground. [30] CHAPTER FOUR " This! " shrilled Jlrs. Gourlay, who had recovered her hrcath again; " this! Look at him there, the inuekle slahbcr," and she pointed to Gilmour who was standing with a red-lowering, downcast face ; " look at him! A man of that size to even himsell to a wean! " " He deserved a' he got," said Gilmour sullenly. " His mother spoil« him at ony rate. And I'm damned if the best Gourlay that ever dirtied leather's gaun to trample owre me." Gourlay jumped round with a quick start of the wliole body. For a full minute he held Gilmour in the middle of his steady glower. " Walk," he said, pointing to the gate. " Oh, I'll walk," bawled Gilmour, screaming now that anger gave him courage. " Gie me time to get m;i kist, and I'll walk mighty quick. And damned glad I'll be, to get redd o' you and your hoose. The Hoose wi' the Green Shutters," he laughed, "hi, hi, hi! the Hoose wi' the Green Shutters! " Gourlay went slowly up to him, opening his eyes on him black and wide. " You swine! " he said with quiet vehemence; " for damned little I would kill ye wi' a glower! " Gilmour shrank from the blaze in his eyes. " Oh, dinna be fee-ee-ared," said Gourlay quietly, " dinna be fee-ee-ared. I wouldn't dirty my hand on 'ee! But get your bit kist, and I'll see ye off the prem- ises. Suspeeciijus characters are worth the watching." " Suspeecious! " stuttered Gilmour, " suspeecious! Wh-wh-whan was I ever suspeecious ? I'll have the law of ye for that. I'll make ye answer for your wor-rds." " Imphm! " said Gourlay. " In the meantime, look [31] m THE HOUSE WITH THE (4REEN SHUTTERS slippy wi' that bit box o' yours. I don't lilic daft folk about my hoosc." " There'll be dafter folk as nic in your hoose yet," spluttered Gilmour angrily as ho turnr'd away. He went up to the garret where he slept and brought down his trunk. As he passed through the scullery, bowed beneath tlie clumsy burden on his left shoulder, John, recovered from his sobbing, mocked at him. " Hay-ay-ay," he said, in throaty derision, " my fai- ther's the boy for ye. Yon was the way to put ye down I " [33] In every littlo Scotch community there is a distinct type known as " the bodie." " What does he do, that man?" you may ask, and the answer will be, "Really, I could hardly tell ye what he does — he's juist a bodie! " The " bodie " may be a gentleman of independent means (a hundred a year from the Funds) fussing about in spats and light check breeches; or he may be a job- bing gardener; but ho is equally a " bodie." The chief occupation of his idle hours (and his hours are chiefly idle) is the discussion of his neighbour's affairs. He is generally an "auld residenter"; great, therefore, at the redding up of pedigrees. He can tell you exactly, for instance, how it is that young Pin-oe's taking geyly to the dram : for his grandfather, it seems, was a ter- rible man for the drink — ou, just terrible — why, he went to bed with a full jar of whiskey once, and when he left it, he was dead, and it was empty. So ye see, that's the reason o't. The genus " bodie " is divided into two species: the "harmless bodies" and the "nesty bodies." The bodies of Barbie mostly belonged to the second variety. Johnny Coe, and Tam Wylie, and the baker, were de- cent enough fellows in their way, but the others were the sons of scandal. Gourlay spoke of them as a " wheen damned auld wives." — But Gourlay, to be sure, was not an impartial witness. [33] THE HOUSE WITH THE (iREEN SHUTTERS Tliu Bend o' the Brae was tlic favourite stance of the bodies; here they foregathered every day to pass judg- ment on the town's affairs. And, indeed, the place had many things to recommend it. Among the chief it was within an easy distance of the Red Lion, farther up the street, to whieli it was really very convenient to adjourn nows and nans. Standing at the Bend o' the Brae, too, you could look along two roads to the left and right, or down upon the Cross beneath, and the three low streets that guttered away from it. Or you might turn and look up llain Street, and past the side of the Square, to the House with the Green Shutters, the highest in the town. The Bend o' the Brae, you will gather, was a fine post for observation. It had one drawback, true; if Gourlay turned to the right in his gig he disappeared in a moment, and you could never be sure where he was off to. But even that afforded matter for pleasing speculation which often lasted half an hour. It was about nine o'clock when Gourlay and Gilmour quarrelled in the yard, and that was the hour when the bodies foregathered for their morning dram. " Good moarning, Mr. Wylie! " said the Provost. — When the Provost wished you good morning, with a heavy civic eye, you felt sure it was going to be good. " Mornin', Provost, mornin'! Fine weather for the fields," said Tarn, casting a critical glance at the blue dome in which a soft white-bosomed cloud floated high above the town. " If this weather bauds, it'll be a blessing for us poor farming bodies." Tam was a wealthy old hunks, but it suited his hu- [34] CHAPTER FIVE mour to refer to liimself constantly an " a poor farming bodie." And he druKsed in accordance with his humour. His clean old crab-apple face was always grinning at you from over a white-sleeved moleskin waistcoat, as if he had bum no better than a breaker of road-mottle. "Faith aye! " said the Provost, cunning and quick — " fodder should be cheap " — and he shot the covetous glimmer of a bargain-making eye at Mr. Wylie. Tarn drew himself up. lie saw what was coming. " We're needing some hay for the burgh horse," said the Provost. " Ye'll be willing to sell at fifty shillings the ton, since it's like to be so plentiful." "Oh," said Tarn solemnly, "that's on-possible! Ciourhiy's seeking thr three pound! And where he leads wo maun a' gang. Gourlay sets the tunc and Barbie dances till't." That was quite untrue so far as the speaker was con- cerned. It took a clever man to inako Tani Wvlio dance to his piping. But Thomas, the knave, knew that h(! could always take a rise out the Provost by cracking up the Gourlays, ind that to do it now was the best way of fobbing him off about the hay. " Gourlay! " muttered the Provost in disgust. And Tam winked at the baker. "Losh!" said Sandy Toddle, " yondcr's the Free Kirk Minister going past the Cross! Where'll he be oft till, at this hour of the day? He's not often up so soon." " They say he sits late studying," said Johnny Coe. " H'mph, studying! " grunted Tam Brodie, a big heavy wall-cheeked man, whose little side-glancing eyes seemed always alert for scandal amid the massive inso- [ .".5 ] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS lence of his smooth face. " I see few signs of studying in him. He's noathing but a stink wi' a skin on't." T. Brodie was a very important man, look you, and wrote "Leather Mcrcht." above his door, though he cobbled with his own hands. He was a staunch Con- servative, and down on the Dissenters. " What road'th he taking? " lisped Deacon Allardyco, craning past Brodie's big shoulder to get a look. " He's stoppit to speak to Widow Wallace. What will he be saying to her? " " She's a greedy bodie that Mrs. Wallace; I wouldna wonder but she's spiering him for bawbees." "Will he take the Skeighan Hoad, I wonder?" " Or the Fcchars? " " lie's a groat man for gathering gowans and other sic trash. lie s :• -.ybc for a dander up the burn juist. They say he's a great botanical man." " Aye," said Brodie, " pnidling in a burn's the ploy for him. He's a weanly gowk." "A-a-ah!" protested the baker, who was a Burnso- maniac, " there's waur than a walk by the bank o' a bonny burn. Yc ken what Mossgiel said: " ' The Muso nae poet ever land her. Till by himsel he learned to wauder, Adown some trottin burn's meander, And no thick lang; Oh sweet, to muse and pensive ponder A heartfelt sang.'" Poetical quotations however made the Provost uncomfortable. "Aye," he said drily in his throat; "verra good, baker, verra good! — Whose yellow [36] CHAPTER FIVE doag's that? I never saw the beaut about the town before! " " Nor me eithur. It's a perfect Htranger! " " It's like a lierd's iloaj;! " "Man, you're riffht! Thufu just what it will be. The morn's Kleekie lamb fair, and some herd or other'U be in about the town." " He'll be drinking in some public house, I'se war- rant, and the doaj; will have lost him." "Iniph, that'll be the way o't." " I'm (lemntd If he hasn't taken the Skeighan Road! " said Sandy 'I'oddle, who had kept his eye on the min- ister.— Toddle's accent was a varying quality. When he remcndiercd he had been a packman in England it was exceedingly fine. ]{ut he often forgot. " The Skeighan Uoad! The Skeighim Hoad! Who'll he be going to see in that alrl ? Will it 1h- Templand- muir? " "(Josh, it oanna be Templandniuir. He was there no later than yestreen!" " Here's a man coming down tlie brae! " announced Johnny Coe in a solemn voice, as if a man " coming down the brae " was something unusual. In a moment every head was turned to the hill. "What's yon he's carrying on his shouther?" pon- dered Brodie. " It looks like a hoax," said the Provost, slowly, bend- ing every effort of eye and mind to discover what it really was. He was giving his jirofoundest cogitations to the " hoax." 'It make him out. IS a hoax! But who is it though? I canna [ ••i7 ] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS •' DihI, 1 caiiiiu It'll uilhcr; liis lu'inl's so beut with liin biirdi'ii! " At Inst the mull, laying liis " boiix " on the ki'*>ui»1> (itnod ii|) to I'UMi' his spiiu', so tliut hin face was virtihle. " I,okIi, it's .lock (liliiioiir, lln' orra man at (Jour- lay's! What'll he be iloinn out on the street at this hour of the ilavl' 1 thoeht he was always busy on the priniises! Will (iourluy he sending him olf with some- thing to sonieliody? But no; thafcanmi be. lie wnuld have sent it with the carls." " ril wager ye," eried .lohniiy Coe ([uielvly, speaking more loudly than usual in the animation of discovery, '• I'll wager ye IJoul-lay has (|Uarrelled him and jiul him to the door! " "Man, you're right! That'll just be it, that'll just be it! Aye; ayi; faith aye; and you'll be his kist he's tarrying! Man, you're right, Mr. Coe; you have just pul your linger on't. We'll hear news lliin morning." They edged forward to the Tniddle of thi' roail, tlie I'rovost in front, to meet (iilmour eoming down. " Ye've a lieavy burden this morning, .John," said the I'rovost graciously. " Xo wonder, sir," said Oihnour with big-eyed so- lemnity, and set down the chest ; " it's no wtmder, see- ing that I'm carrying my a-all." " .\ye, man, .Tohn. How's that na?" To be the centre of interest and the object of gra- cious condescension was balm to the wounded feelings of fiilmour. Oourlay had lowered him, but this reccii- tion restored him to his own good o)iini(m. lit; was u.sually called " Jock " (except by his mother, to whom, of etmrse, he was " oor dolinny ") but the best mer- [38] CHAPTER FIVE C'liant» in tlii' touii urri' udilri'ioiiiig liiin ua " Juliii." It wus 11 );rr.it (H'laKldn. (iilnioiir exjiuuiJiil in guwi|> iH'nuutli itit intlufnit' Ijiiiign. lie Wflconu'il, Ido, tliin tirst unil tint' o|)|ii)itunity 9 ] THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS jaups splashed about his shins; but was I to blame for that? — ye maun walk wide o' a whalebone besom if ye dinna want to be splashed. Afore I kenned where I was, he up wi' a dirty washing-clout and slashed me in the face wi't! I hit him a thud in the car — as wha wadna? Out come his mithcr like a fury, skirling about her hoose, and her servants, and her weans. ' Your sen - ant ! ' says I, ' your servant ! You're a nice-looking trollop to talk aboot servants,' says I." "Did ye really, John?" " Man, that wath bauld o' ye." "And what cKd she say?" " Oh, she just kept skirling! And then, to be sure, Gourlay must come out and interfere! But I telled him to his face what I thocht of him\ ' The best Gour- lay that ever dirtied leather,' says I, ' 's no gaun to make dirt of me,' says I." "Aye man, Dyohn!" lisped Deacon Allardycp, with bright and eagerly enquiring eyes. " .\nd what did he thay to that, na? 7'Aa< wath a dig for him! I'the war- rant he wath angry." "Angry? He foamed at the mouth! But I up and says to him, ' I have had enough o' you,' says I, ' you and your Hoose wi' the Green Shutters,' says I, ' you're no fit to have a decent servant,' says I. ' Pay me mil wages and I'll be redd o' ye,' says I. And wi' that I flang my kiat on my shouther and slapped the gate ahint me." " And did he pay ye your wages? " Tam Wylie probed him slily, with a sideward glimmer in his eye. "Ah, well, no; not exactly," said Gilmour drawing in. " But I'll get them right enough for a' that. He'll [40] CHAPTER FIVE no got tlie better o' me." Having grounded unpleas- antly on the question of llii! wages he thought it best to bo off ere the bloom was dashed from his importance, so he shouldered his eh.st and went. The bodies watched him down the street. " He's a lying brose, that," said the baker. " We a' ken what Gourhiy is. He would have flung Gilmour out by the scrufl o' the neck, if he had daured to set his tongue against him! " " Faith, that's so," said Tarn Wylie and Johnny Coe together. But the others were divided between their perception of the fact and their wisli to believe that Qourlay liad received a thrust or two. At other times they would have been the first to scoff at Gilmour's swagger. Now their animus against Gourlay prompted them to back it up. "Oh, I'm not so sure of tha-at, baker," cried the Provost, in the false loud voice of a man defending a position which he knows to be unsound. " I'm no so .«ure of that, at a-all. A-a-ah, mind ye," he drawled per- suasively, " he's a hardy fallow, that Gilmour. I've no doubt he gied Gourlay a good dig or two. Let us howp they will do him good." For many reasons intimate to the Scot's character, envious scandal is rampant in petty towns such as Bar- bie. To go back to the beginning, the Scot, as pundits will tell you, is an individualist. His religion alone is enough to male him so. For it is a scheme of pej^