From Baldwin the captain heard that Bob Corkey had, during his wanderings, fallen in with Bounce and Badger, and that these three had formed a partnership, in which they tried their luck at gold-digging, farming, fur-trading, and many other sources of livelihood, but, up to the last news of them, without success. There was hope of them yet, however, so thought Baldwin Burr, because of the latest remarks made by them in the hearing of credible witnesses. Bob Corkey, having attained to the lowest depths of destitution and despair, had, it was said, made to his comrades the following observation: “Mates, it strikes me that we are three great fools;” whereupon Bounce had replied, “We’re more than that Bob, we’re three great sinners;” to which Badger had added, with considerable emphasis, “That’s a fact,” and when men come to this, there is hope for them.
The only personage of our tale who now remains to be mentioned is Mrs Niven.
That steady-going female continued her vocation of ministering to the wants of young students, some of whom treated her well, while others—to their shame, be it said—took advantage of her amiability. In regard to this latter fact, however, it may be recorded that Peggy proved a sharp-witted, tight-handed, and zealous defender of her mistress. Among Mrs Niven’s other boarders there was one who was neither young nor a student. He came to reside with her in the following manner:—
One evening Peggy was heard in altercation with a man in the passage who seemed bent on forcing his way into the house. The students who chanced to be in their rooms at the time cocked their ears, like war-steeds snuffing the battle from afar, and hoped for a row. Mrs Niven, after opening the parlour door softly, and listening, called out, “Let the gentleman come up, Peggy.”
“Gentleman indeed!” cried the irate Peggy, who had the intruder by the throat, “he’s only a dirty auld blagyird.”
“Niver ye mind, Peggy,” returned Mrs Niven peremptorily; “I ken him. Let him up.”
Immediately after, there walked into the parlour a bowed, mean-looking, dirty little old man, who, as he sat down on a chair, paid some doubtful compliments to Peggy.
“Oh, Maister Black, is it you!” said Mrs Niven, sitting down beside him.
Besides being all that we have said, Mr Black was ragged, dishevelled, haggard, and in every way disreputable.
“Yes, it’s me, Mrs Niven,” he replied harshly, “and you see I’m in a sorry plight.”