"Nae fears, sir," he said, encouragingly; "you tak' your comfortable sleep; the black collie will never trouble ye. I'll leave the outer door on the jar, an' faith! I'll hae a shot at him if he comes youchin' aboot this hoose."
"Come up, Cleg," said Theophilus Ruff, as he stood by the door, "come up in a quarter of an hour, and I'll take my pipe as usual."
"Aye, General," said Cleg, "I'll be up. Did ye say herrin'?"
The General went out without answering, and Cleg turned unconcernedly to his immediate business of scouring the pans and setting the kitchen to rights. He was naturally neat-handed, and by this time no work, indoors or out, came wrong to him.
He was whistling cheerily and burnishing a tin skillet when a slight noise at the outer door startled him. He dropped the can, and it rolled with a clatter under the dresser.
"That dowg o' Fraser!" he said to himself. "I'll 'Black Dog' him!"
But before he could rise he felt his arms pinioned from behind, and ere he could make any effective resistance he was thrown upon his back on the floor. Cleg struggled gallantly, and it might have proved successfully; but the face which looked hatefully into his took from him in a moment all power of resistance.
It was his father's face, livid with hate and vile determination. Tim Kelly coolly directed Sal Kavannah to sit upon the lad's feet, while he himself trussed up his hands and arms as if he had been a fowl ready for the market. Cleg suffered all this without showing the least concern. He had no hope of pity. But he steeled himself to be silent, and faithful to his benefactor.
His father shut the kitchen door. Then he looked carefully round the brick house, and seemed infinitely relieved to find the door into the house unlocked, as the General had left it when he went out for Cleg to follow.
Presently Tim Kelly came back and kneeled by his son's side.