But Hughie, swaying high in the birch, heeded not the warning, and suddenly swinging out from the slender trunk and holding by his hands, he described a parabola, and releasing the birch dropped on to the balsam top. But balsam-trees are of uncertain fiber, and not to be relied upon, and this particular balsam, breaking off short in Hughie's hands, allowed him to go crashing through the branches to the earth.
"Man! man!" cried Davie Scotch, bending over Hughie as he lay white and still upon the ground. "Are ye deid? Maircy me! he's deid,"sobbed Davie, wringing his hands. "Fusie, Fusie, ye gowk! where are ye gone?"In a moment or two Fusie reappeared through the branches with a capful of water, and dashed it into Hughie's face, with the result that the lad opened his eyes, and after a gasp or two, sat up and looked about him.
"Och, laddie, laddie, are ye no deid?" said Davie Scotch.
"What's the matter with you, Scottie?" asked Hughie, with a bewildered look about him. "And who's been throwing water all over me?" he added, wrathfully, as full consciousness returned.
"Man! I'm glad to see ye mad. Gang on wi' ye," shouted Davie, joyously. "Ye were deid the noo. Ay, clean deid. Was he no, Fusie?" Fusie nodded.
"I guess not," said Hughie. "It was that rotten balsam top,"looking vengefully at the broken tree.
"Lie doon, man," said Davie, still anxiously hovering about him.
"Dinna rise yet awhile."
"Oh, pshaw!" said Hughie, and he struggled to his feet; "I'm all right." But as he spoke he sank down upon the moss, saying, "Ifeel kind of queer, though.""Lie still, then, will ye," said Davie, angrily. "Ye're fair obstinate.""Get me some water, Fusie," said Hughie, rather weakly.
"Run, Fusie, ye gomeril, ye!"
In a minute Fusie was back with a capful of water.
"That's better. I'm all right now," said Hughie, sitting up.
"Hear him!" said Davie. "Lie ye doon there, or I'll gie ye a crack that'll mak ye glad tae keep still."For half an hour the boys lay on the moss discussing the accident fully in all its varying aspects and possibilities, till the sound of wheels came up the road.
"Who's that, Fusie?" asked Hughie, lazily.
"Dunno me," said Fusie, peering through the trees.
"Do you, Scotty?"
"No, not I."
Hughie crawled over to the edge of the brush.
"Why, you idiots! it's Thomas Finch. Thomas!" he called, but Thomas drove straight on. In a moment Hughie sprang up, forgetting all about his weakness, and ran out to the roadside.
"Hello, Thomas!" he cried, waving his hand. Thomas saw him, stopped, and looked at him, doubtfully. He, with all the Section, knew how the school was going, and he easily guessed what took Hughie there.
"I'm not going to school to-day," said Hughie, answering Thomas's look.
Thomas nodded, and sat silent, waiting. He was not a man to waste his words.
"I hate the whole thing!" exclaimed Hughie.
"Foxy, eh?" said Thomas, to whom on other occasions Hughie had confided his grievances, and especially those he suffered at the hands of Foxy.
"Yes, Foxy," cried Hughie, in a sudden rage. "He's a fat-faced sneak! And the teacher just makes me sick!"Thomas still waited.
"She just smiles and smiles at him, and he smiles at her. Ugh! Ican't stand him.""Not much harm in smiling," said Thomas, solemnly.
"Oh, Thomas, I hate the school. I'm not going to go any more."Thomas looked gravely down upon Hughie's passionate face for a few moments, and then said, "You will do what your mother wants you, Iguess."Hughie said nothing in reply, while Thomas sat pondering.
Finally he said, with a sudden inspiration, "Hughie, come along with me, and help me with the potatoes.""They won't let me," grumbled Hughie. "At least father won't. Idon't like to ask mother."Thomas's eyes opened in surprise. This was a new thing in Hughie.
"I'll ask your mother," he said, at length. "Get in with me here."Still Hughie hesitated. To get away from school was joy enough, to go with Thomas to the potato planting was more than could be hoped for. But still he stood ****** pictures in the dust with his bare toes.
"There's Fusie," he said, "and Davie Scotch.""Well," said Thomas, catching sight of those worthies through the trees, "let them come, too."Fusie was promptly willing, but Davie was doubtful. He certainly would not go to the manse, where he might meet the minister, and meeting the minister's wife under the present circumstances was a little worse.
"Well, you can wait at the gate with Fusie," suggested Hughie, and so the matter was settled.
Fortunately for Hughie, his father was not at home. But not Thomas's earnest entreaties nor Hughie's eager pleading would have availed with the mother, for attendance at school was a sacred duty in her eyes, had it not been that her boy's face, paler than usual, and with the dawning of a new defiance in it, startled her, and confirmed in her the fear that all was not well with him.
"Well, Thomas, he may go with you to the Cameron's for the potatoes, but as to going with you to the planting, that is another thing. Your mother is not fit to be troubled with another boy, and especially a boy like Hughie. And how is she to-day, Thomas?"continued Mrs. Murray, as Thomas stood in dull silence before her.
"She's better," said Thomas, answering more quickly than usual, and with a certain eagerness in his voice. "She's a great deal better, and Hughie will do her no harm, but good."Mrs. Murray looked at Thomas as he spoke, wondering at the change in his voice and manner. The heavy, stolid face had changed since she had last seen it. It was finer, keener, than before. The eyes, so often dull, were lighted up with a new, strange fire.
"She's much better," said Thomas again, as if insisting against Mrs. Murray's unbelief.
"I am glad to hear it, Thomas," she said, gently. "She will soon be quite well again, I hope, for she has had a long, long time of suffering.""Yes, a long, long time," replied Thomas. His face was pale, and in his eyes was a look of pain, almost of fear.
