And the line flies out with a squeal—
O that is the blessedest sound upon earth,
The merry, merry shriek of the reel!
So here's to good fellows!—for them that are not,
Let them gang and sup kail wi' the deil!
We've other work here—so look out, my lads,
For the first, sharp shriek of the reel!
He did not care to put the rough-jolting verses down on paper, for the farther and the more rapidly he walked away out of the town the more was his brain busy with pictures and visions of all that they would be doing at this very moment at Inver-Mudal.
'God bless me,' he said to himself, 'I could almost swear I hear the dogs whimpering in the kennels.'
There would be the young lads looking after the panniers and the ponies; and the head-keeper up at the lodge discussing with Lord Ailine the best way of taking the hill in the morning, supposing the wind to remain in the same direction; and Mr. Murray at the door of the inn, smoking his pipe as usual; and the pretty Nelly indoors waiting upon the shooting party just arrived from the south and listening to all their wants. And Harry would be wondering, amid all this new bustle and turmoil, why his master did not put in an appearance; perhaps scanning each succeeding dog-cart or waggonette that came along the road; and then, not so blithe-spirited, making his way to the Doctor's house. Comfort awaited him there, at all events; for Ronald had heard that Meenie had taken pity on the little terrier, and that it was a good deal oftener with her than at the inn. Only all this seemed now so strange; the great dusk city lay behind him like a nightmare from which he had but partially escaped, and that with tightened breath; and he seemed to be straining his ears to catch those soft and friendly voices so far away. And then later on, as the darkness fell, what would be happening there? The lads would be coming along to the inn; lamps lit, and chairs drawn in to the table; Mr. Murray looking in at times with his jokes, and perhaps with a bit of a treat on so great an occasion. And surely—surely—as they begin to talk of this year and of last year and of the changes—surely some one will say—perhaps Nelly, as she brings in the ale—but surely some one will say—as a mere word of friendly remembrance—'Well, I wish Ronald was here now with his pipes, to play us The Barren Rocks of Aden? Only a single friendly word of remembrance—it was all that he craved.