My thoughts went back at a bound to memories of the ‘Gaberlunzie Man’ of the ballad, the errant James V., and ‘ane louit Johnnie Faa, Lord and Earl of Little Egypt,’ but all I said was, ‘Still, people don’t boast of an illegitimate origin nowadays.’
‘Illegitimate!’ he cried angrily; ‘I’ll teach ye manners, ye ——’ but here a step sounded on the path outside, and in another moment my host peered in at the doorway.
‘Tut—tut—tut,’ said my friend, removing his glasses from his nose in his agitation, ‘dear, dear! what can have happened? Speak, Ned; explain, Will.’
My adversary rose to his feet, saluted our interrogator somewhat shamefacedly, and, pointing to myself, replied, ‘He wes sae impiddent wi’ me I’d just tae teach him a lesson, but nae harm’s done.’
‘Oh,’ cried my little friend, and he positively wrung his hands in his distress, ‘but you shouldn’t,’ and here he looked at us reproachfully in turn. Then a happy thought seemed to rise in his brain. ‘We must forget all about this unhappy occurrence,’ cried he; ‘we will not inquire into it, but will shake hands all round, and begin afresh.’
So saying he immediately knelt down, undid my bandages, and helped me to rise from the floor. ‘Now,’ he cried, and seized hold of our respective hands.
‘Well,’ said my antagonist, ‘I bear no malice, but keep yor tongue a bit civiler i’ future.’
‘And refrain from pheasants and legs of mutton,’ I nearly retorted, but stayed my tongue in time, and the three of us shook hands promptly all round, as desired. I was willing enough to shake hands because I felt I had been in error in taunting my antagonist, but I was not prepared for the reproof my host had in store for me, as he put his arm through mine, and led me away for a stroll up the brae.
‘Oh, how could you do it?’ he said. ‘You must have stung him beyond endurance, and you promised, you remember, to respect him.’
‘I only told him the truth,’ I replied sulkily. ‘As a matter of fact, I recognised in him the first individual I ever had the pleasure of getting convicted—at York Assizes—pheasant-poaching, stoning a keeper, etc. One’s first conviction is like one’s first love—one can’t forget it.’