“Just what we could give you, Robbie,” she said, in a faltering tone.
“Well!” he cried impatiently. And then he turned round and faced her—Andrew’s collars, notwithstanding all his efforts, giving still a semi-ludicrous air, which gave the sting of an additional pang to Mrs Ogilvy, who could not bear that he should be ridiculous. He confronted her, sitting down opposite, fixing his eyes on her face, as if to forestall any criticism on her part. “I’ve come back as I went away,” he said with defiance. “I had very little when I started,—I have nothing now. If you had not kept me so bare, and never a penny in my pocket, I might have done better: but nothing breeds nothing, you know, mother. It’s one of the laws of the world.”
“Robbie, I gave you what I had,” she exclaimed, astonished, yet half relieved, to find that it was she who was put on her defence.
“Ay, that’s what everybody says. You must have kept a little more for yourself, however, for you seem very comfortable: and you talk at your ease of a new outfit, while I’ve been glad of a cast-off jacket or an old pair of breeks that nobody else would wear.”
“Oh Robbie, Robbie!” she cried in a voice of anguish, “and me laying up every penny for you, and ready with everything there was—at a moment’s notice!”
“Well, perhaps it’s better as it is,” he said: “I might just have lost it again. You get into a sort of a hack-horse way—just the same round, and never able to get out of it—unless when you’ve got to cut and run for your life.”
“Robbie!”
“I’ll tell you about that another time. I don’t know what you’re going to do with me, now you’ve got me here. I’m a young fellow enough yet, mother—a sort of a young fellow, but not good for anything. And then if this affair comes up, I may have to cut and run again. Oh, I’ll tell you about it in time! It’s not likely they’ll be after me, with all the loose swearing there is yonder, and extraditions, and that kind of thing; but I’m not one that would stand being had up and examined—even if I was sure I should get off: I’d just cut and run.”
“Is there any danger?” she said in a terrified whisper.
He burst out laughing again, but these laughs were not good to hear. “Of what do you think? That they might hang me up to the first tree? But till it blows over I can be sure of nothing—or if any other man turns up. There is a man before whom I would just cut and run too. If he should get wind that I was here”—he gave a suspicious glance round. “And this confounded house on a level with the ground, and the windows open night and day!”