The withered bread swallowed rather the better of this delicious sight; so Jock chewed and looked, and looked and chewed, till his mother entered into the security mentioned. "That is a capital hint," thought Jock; "I shall verify my good mother's cautionry, for I can stand this nae langer." He sprang up on a seat, sliced off a large flitch of bacon, and had it on the coals before one had time to pronounce a word; and then turning his back to it, and his face to the company, he stood with his drawn dirk quite determined to defend his prey.
The goodwife spoke first up. "Gudeness have a care o' us! see to the menseless tike!" cried she; "I declare the creature has na the breeding o' a whalp!"
Jock was well used to such kind of epithets; so he bore this and some more with the utmost suavity, still, however, keeping his ground.
Goodman Niddery grinned, and his hands shook with anger, as if struck with a palsy; but for some reason or other he did not interfere. The servants were like to burst with laughter; and Jock kept the goodwife at bay with his drawn knife, till his slice was roasted; and then, laying it flat on his dry piece of bread, he walked out to the field to enjoy it more at leisure. Marion went away home; and the goodman and goodwife both determined to be revenged on Jock, and to make him pay dear for his audacity.
Jock gave several long looks after Marion as she vanished on Kettlemoor, but he had left no kind of meat in her shieling when he came away, else it was likely he would have followed his mother home again. He was still smacking his lips after his rich repast, and he had seen too much good stuff about the house of his new master to leave it at once; so he was even fain to bid Marion good-b'ye in his heart, wipe the filial tear from his eye, poor man, and try to reconcile himself to his new situation.
"Do you carry aye that lang gully knife about wi' you, master cow-herd, or how do they ca' ye?" said his master, when they next met after the adventure of the bacon.
"I hae aye carried it yet," said Jock, with great innocence; "and a gay gude whittle it is."
"Ye maun gie that up," said Niddery; "we dinna suffer chaps like you to carry sic weapons about our house."
Jock fixed his green eyes on his master's face. He could hardly believe him to be serious; still there was something in his look he did not like; so he put his knife deeper into his pocket, drew one step back, and, putting his under row of teeth in front of those above, waited the issue of such an unreasonable demand.
"Come, come; give it up I say. Give it to me; I'll dispose of it for you."