As soon as the hermit had read the letter he jumped up and took Creggan's hand.
"This is from Nugent, dear sonny, and he is going to get leave to let you have Oscar with you."
"No, no, no, no!" cried the boy. "He must stay with you and make you happy."
"And I say 'no, no, no!'" replied the hermit, laughing now. "Go he shall; I have my bird, my cat, and my violin. Oh, believe me, boy, I shall be happy enough till you come back to see me."
And so it was decided.
Archie was but a crofter's son, but he was a particular friend of Creggan's, and they used to be constantly together before the Nugents came, fishing, shooting, or wandering over the hills and far away.
Archie thought that Creggan was very clever, and laughed inordinately at all the stories he made up and told him while they lay together on the cliff-top, where the wild thyme grew. It was here they used to meet, and Archie always brought his dambrod (draughts) with him. He had made it himself, and together in the sunshine they used to play for hours and hours. They had no real men, only bits of carrots and parsnips to represent the black and the white, and as Archie was a far better player than Creggan, he always removed a few men from his own side before the game began.
But Archie could play chess as well, and always solved the problems given in the weekly papers, which the minister kindly lent him. Creggan had no patience with so deep a game. Life, he appeared to think, was too short for chess. Well, so far I believe he was right, for in studying for an exam. one wastes brain power by playing so difficult a game.
Poor Archie was just a year or two older than Creggan, but over and over again, as they used to lie together on the wild-thyme cliff, he would say with all the ingenuousness and frankness of youth:
"Oh, Creggan, you don't know how much I love you, and I'll just cry my heart out when you go away."