"Do not add a lie to your offence and make it worse."
"I have not told you a lie, Uncle Hugh. I—did—not—go," he almost shouted, shouldering his books.
Mr. Colquhoun did not argue or seek to prolong the interview, but in a few words spoke the sentence of punishment.
"I will give orders that you are not to use your pony for a month, and that Sandy is not to take you rabbiting or fishing for the same length of time. You are not to be seen anywhere in the gardens or grounds except on your way to Mr. M'Gregor's. I have never restricted you boys in any reasonable pleasures, but I am fully determined to make you understand that I intend to be implicitly obeyed when I think it necessary to lay down a rule."
Then Mr. Colquhoun went away, and Jeff threw down his books with a bang.
"I'll fight you, Brian, you coward, you false witness! You're worse than Ananias," he said, squaring himself for the combat and reddening all over his face.
"All right. Come on. I'm twice as strong as you, and Sandy has taught me how to box."
With this invitation Jeff began the battle in a very unscientific way. Of course he came out of the fray with a bleeding face and torn clothes. There was no one near to pity him, and he could only wash his face and hope that the rents would escape Aunt Annie's notice till Nan had mended them.
For a fortnight this poor little boy moped about the upstairs rooms and passages in a very miserable way. Jessie was his best consolation, bringing him news from the garden and stable which interested him. She also paid a daily visit to Sandy in order to glean little details of sport, and came back usually with her small face puckered up in anxiety to forget nothing.
It was really very sad for poor Jeff that the otter hounds should visit the neighbourhood at this juncture. He had to watch Uncle Hugh and Brian starting at daybreak three times a week to participate in the sport. His poor heart was very sore all the time, for Uncle Hugh had not believed him, and there was no one in whom he could confide. It was a terrible anguish to bear all alone, and the injustice of his punishment was the sorest part of his trouble.