“Nae sayin, indeed,” here chimed in Jean Gordon, who had been listening to what Mr Riddel said with intense interest, and with a degree of agitation which it would have been very difficult for a mere onlooker to have accounted for.
“Nae sayin, indeed, what guid fortune may arise to the lad oot o’ what has happened this day. To Hawick wi’ ye he maun gang, Mr Riddel,” continued Jean, who know every individual in the country for fifty miles round; “an’ he couldna gang wi’ a nearer freen, tak my word for that.”
“He could not go with one who would be more willing to be his friend, at any rate, Jean,” said Mr Riddel, who also knew the gipsy well, both by sight and name, and smiling as he spoke.
“An’ guid richt he has to your friendship, Mr Riddel,” replied Jean.
“That he has, Jean,” said the former. “The man who has saved my life has indeed a good right to my friendship; and he shall have it.”
“He has maybe ither claims on ye forbye that, though, Mr Riddel.”
“Indeed! Well, he may; although that is surely enough. But what other claims do you allude to, Jean? I shall be glad to know what they are, that I may discharge them all at once.”
“Then you shall know, Mr Riddel,” replied Jean, with a sudden determination of manner. “They’re noo awa that micht tak ony scaith frae what I’ll noo tell ye; an’, forbye, it’s a thing I hae lang resolved upon, an’ sae I’ll e’en tak this opportunity o’ doin’t. Come aside wi’ me, here, a wee bit, Mr Riddel,” added Jean; “an’ you, too, Gordon,” she said; “come, till I speak to ye baith.” And she led the way to a little distance from the other persons who were present on the occasion, and who had hitherto been auditors of all that passed.
“Mr Riddel,” now said Jean, “do ye mind the Hawick Spate?”
“Mind it!” replied the person addressed—“to be sure I do, Jean; I have but too much reason to mind it.” And here Mr Riddel’s voice became tremulous with emotion. “It deprived me of my only child—of the only child I ever had. This you doubtless know, Jean,” he continued; “as everybody in Hawick, and for many miles round it, who recollects the spate, knows that my child—and a fine little fellow he was—was swept away in his cradle, by the stream, and never afterwards heard tell of. The cradle was, indeed, found,” added Mr Riddel, in a melancholy tone, “but not the infant. But why do ye ask this question, Jean?”