The thocht had never struck me before, being in a sort of a manner dung stupid; but catching up the word, I said wi’ all my pith and birr, “Rin, rin, Tammy, rin for life and death!”
Tammy bolted like a nine-year-auld, never looking ahint his tail: so, in less than ten minutes, he returned, hauling alang auld Doctor Gripes, whom he had wakened out o’ his bed by the lug and horn, at the very time I was trying to quiet young Benjie, wha was following me up and doun the house, as I was pacing to and fro in distraction, girning and whinging for his breakfast.
“Bad business, bad business; bless us, what is this?” said the auld doctor, staring at Magneezhy’s bluidy face through his silver spectacles—“What’s the matter?”
The puir patient knew at once his maister’s tongue, and, lifting up ane of his eyes—the other being stiff and barkened down—said in a melancholy voice, “Ah, master, do ye think I’ll get better?”
Doctor Gripes, auld man as he was, started back, as if he had been a French dancing-master, or had strampit on a het bar of iron. “Tom, Tom, is this you? What, in the name of wonder, has done this?” Then feeling his wrist—“But your pulse is quite good. Have you fallen, boy? Where is the blood coming from?”
“Somewhere about the hairy scaup,” answered Magneezhy, in his own sort of lingo. “I doubt some artery’s cut through!”
The doctor immediately bade him lie quiet, and hush, as he was getting a needle and silken thread ready to sew it up; ordering me to get a basin and water ready, to wash the puir lad’s physog. I did so as hard as I was able, though I wasna sure about the blude just; auld Doctor Gripes watching ower my shouther, wi’ a lighted penny candle in ae hand, and the needle and thread in the ither, to see where the bluid spouted frae. But we were as daft as wise; so he bade me tak my big shears, and cut out a’ the hair on the fore part of the head as bare as my loof; and syne we washed, and better washed; so Magneezhy got the ither ee up, when the barkened blude was loosed, looking, though as pale as a clean shirt, mair frighted than hurt; until it became plain to us all, first to the doctor, syne to me, and syne to Tammy Bodkin, and last of a’ to Magneezhy himsel, that his skin was na sae much as peeled; so we helped him out of the bed, and blithe was I to see the lad standing on the floor, without a haud, on his ain feet.
I did my best to clean his neckcloth and sark-neck of the blude, making him look as decentish as possible, considering circumstances; and lending him, as the Scripture commands, my tartan mantle to hide the infirmity of his bluidy breeks and waistcoat. Hame gaed he and his maister thegither, me standing at our close mouth, wishing them a gude morning, and blithe to see their backs. Indeed, a condemned thief with the rope about his neck, and the white cowl tied ower his een, to say naething of his hands yerked thegither behind his back, and on the nick of being thrown ower, couldna been mair thankfu’ for a reprieve than I was, at the same blessed moment. It was like Adam seeing the deil’s rear marching out o’ Paradise, if ane may be allowed to think sic a thing.
The hale business—tag, rag, and bobtail—soon, however, spunkit out, and was the town talk for mair than ae day. But ye’ll hear.
At the first I pitied the puir lads, that I thocht had fled for ever and aye from their native country to Bengal, Seringapatam, Copenhagen, Botany Bay, or Jamaica; leaving behint them all their friends and auld Scotland, as they might never hear o’ the gudeness of Providence in their behalf. But—wait a wee.