“BALDOYIE.”

South Canterbury Times, Issue 6265, 11 July 1890, Page 4

“BALDOYIE.”

L3TEBATURE-

A. TALE OF CRIME AND MISFORTUNE. Late that afternoon a close carriage was standing near the entrance to Job’s "Wynd. It was noticed by the bustling crowd which thronged the street. Descending the dark staircase ot the house in which Mrs Duncan lived were two men ; the one, strong and active, was assisting the other, who was apparently.so weak that he was unable to stand without support, and he leaned heavily on his companion’s shoulder. Behind them was Mrs Duncan, shading a candle with her hand to light them down the stairs. The strong man half carried his invalid friend up the wynd and along to the carriage. Having entered it, they were driven quietly m the direction of Perth Eoad.

There was one innocent little dissipation which for years Johnnie Todd had indulged in every Saturday afternoon or evening, as his engagements permitted. With a carpet-bag under his arm, he would prowl among the stalls and shops in busy Greenmarket. baiting faithfully at each to price their wares, whether they were of the kind he wanted or not. He found a childish delight and excitemeat in the noise and bargaining under the glare of the naphthalamps, and even the hustling of the crowd afforded him pleasure. On the first Saturday after his elevation in the office he had thought, in his pride, that this weekly indulgence in marketing and mutton pies was not befitting the dignity ot his position, and he had stayed at borne. But the old habit was too strong for him, and the discomfort he experienced in this sudden attempt to fjreak from it was so great that, at the end of the following week, lie went out with his bag as usual, and with renewed zest for all the pleasures of the Greenmarket, the High Street, and Tammy Lamb’s. With his bag well stored, he was loitering near Job’s Wynd, when the two men who had left Mrs Duncan’s passed oat from it to the carriage. Johnnie almost dropped his bag, as he stared at the man who was supporting the invalid. The man wore a heavy overcoat, and a soft felt hat, drawn well over the brows, at once recognised Feuerheerd, He did not think of looking at the other man, and even if be had done so he would have been very little the wiser, for the figure was wrapped in a long ulster ; a muffler concealed the lower part of the face, and the peak and flaps of a travelling-cap entirely concealed the upper part. Johnnie stood like one petrified until the carriage had disappeared. Then ha made a sudden movement, as if to run after it; but he had only taken a few steps, when be recognised the folly of an attempt to overtake it. ‘ What is he doing ?’ * ‘ And who is that poor sowl be has got with him.? , . . . It’s queerer than ever.’ He entirely forgot his mutton pie, and hurried home. There liefidgeted about so restlessly that Jess was at length constrained to ask him what was the matter.

‘Never heed me, my lass, Pm just thinking about things that I am no able to explain to mvsel’yet, and so it’s impossible to explain them to you. Bpt we’ll see about them before long. Now, speir nae questions and’l’ll tell you nae lees. That’s a real fine saying, and very uselul ac times.’

When be took little Will on his knee to say good-night, he whispered to him confidentally : ‘ What do you say about it, Babsie ? There’s roguery, is there no P Eoguery, roguery going on, and you and me are finding it out. It’s wonderful what a blessing it is to be thought a iool. Eh, lad, eh ?’ Babsie was sleepy, and, half closing his eyes, asserted his impatience by a vigorous exercise of his lungs. So the mother took him, saying that it was time for bed. Johnnie nooded and nodded, without any sign of surprise, whilst bo muttered to himself: ‘ Just that, just that ; Babsie is as muekle put out as me, but we’se put it straight goon.’

Herose to go to his own den, not to sleep, but to busy himself with those sheets of interminable figures which seemed t> occupy him night and day. Jess looked at him inquiringly. There was something wrong with him, and thefirst source of trouble which occurred to her mind was Feuerheerd. ‘ Has Mr Feurheerd been worrying you about anything, grandfather ? ’ She could not help asking, in spite of his request so be spared any interrogation for the present. ‘ Worrying me ! Oh no ; we’re great friends, him and me—great friends.’ And the old man quitted the room, chuckling at some in visible joke, and muttering : “ It’s a grand thing to be thought a fool.’ This eccentric conduct was exceedingly perplexing, for although Johnnie had been always more or less eccentric in his ways, he had never before exhibited such restlessness and such a peculiar expression of cunning, combined with the air of one who is possessor of important secrets. Jessbadnodoubt that whatever might he the direct cause of this singular change in her grandfather, Feuerheerd was somehow mixed up in it. She was how longing for the restoration of Mrs Carmichael’s health, so that she might show her Will’s last letter, for she Uad a notion that, as a point of respect, it Should be shown to her before being placed in Marget’s hands. But the reportsmf the widow’s condition continued .to be, unfavourable, and she had now reMlverl that she take Marget into her confidence at the end of the next week/ifMrs Carmichael was still too unwell to endure the excitement which must be caused by her communication,' Meanwhile Jess always felt a melancholy pleasure in visiting Broughty Ferry, and having a chat with her old friend Bauldie Munro. Although the old fisherman had told her over and over again all that he knew of the events of the night when Wild Will disappeared, and about the finding of the boat, she had a morbid satisfaction in bearing the brief narrative repeated. When the day was fine she took little^

Will with her, under a vague superstition that in taking him to the place she somehow associated him with his father.

The Monday after the Saturday ou which Johnnie bad seen Feuerheerd and the invalid getting into the carriage in the High Street was particularly bright, and Jess, with Babsie and the nursemaid proceeded to Broughty Ferry. Bauldie was in the kitchen, sitting on a three-legged stool, mending his fishing gear, and as usual, enjoying his pipe. Little Will's great delight was to squat on the floor beside him, to watch his movements and to play with the pretty shells, stones, and other curiosities with which ihe old fisherman provided him. On this day they were left alone together longer than usuai. Bauldie tired of his playthings, and became fractious. Bauldie had almost exhausted his soothing powers, and at last drew out a leathern purse in which he kept a variety of small treasures. Taking from it the gold sleeve-link he had bought from the loon of Job’s Wynd, he held it up before the child so that a sunbeam fell upon it, mating it glisten and sparkle. The little one held up his hands in eager desire to possess it, Jnst then the mother entered, but little Will did not heed her, bis mind was so full of the bright thing shining there so prettily. She looked to see what had taken his fancy so much, and then, with a little cry, started forward, intercepting the sunbeam, and snatched the sleeve-link from the astonished Bauldie. She held it up in the light with tremulous fingers, and examined it closely. ‘ Where did you get this ? ' she exclaimed, with sobs in her voice. ‘ This belonged to Will —to my husband.’ To he Ooniinueda)