But he did not rise, did not even lift his head from his father’s knee: it would be rude to go before the supper was over—the ruder that he was not partaking of it!
David had eaten his porridge, and now came the almost nightly difference about the eggs. Marion had been ‘the perfect spy o’ the time’ in taking them from the pot; but when she would as usual have her husband eat them, he as usual declared he neither needed nor wanted them. This night, however, he did not insist, but at once proceeded to prepare one, with which, as soon as it was nicely mixed with salt, he began to feed Steenie. The boy had been longer used to being thus fed than most children, and having taken the first mouthful instinctively, now moved his head, but without raising it from his knee, so that his father might feed him more comfortably. In this position he took every spoonful given him, and so ate both the eggs, greatly to the delight of the rest of the company.
A moment more and Steenie got up. His father rose also.
‘I’ll convoy ye a bit, my man,’ he said.
‘Eh, na! ye needna that, father! It’s nearhan’ yer bedtime! I hae naegait to be convoyt. I’ll jist be aboot i’ the nicht—maybe a stane’s-cast frae the door, maybe the tither side o’ the Horn. Here or there I’m never frae ye. I think whiles I’m jist like ane o’ them ’at ye ca’ deid: I’m no awa; I’m only deid! I’m aboot somegait!’
So saying, he went. He never on any occasion wished them good-night: that would be to leave them, and he was not leaving them! he was with them all the time!
CHAPTER VIII
DAVID AND HIS DAUGHTER
The instant he was gone, Kirsty went a step or two nearer to her father, and, looking up in his face, said:
‘I saw Francie Gordon the day, father.’
‘Weel, lassie, I reckon that wasna ony ferly (strange occurrence)! Whaur saw ye him?’