“Well, laddie, I am glad to hear you say that, and I hope we shall have many a day’s fishing together,” was the answer.
“Thank you, Mr Maclean,” said Norman. “I want to try and do as I am told. If you had taken me with you I should not have killed Fanny’s poor little bird.”
“What do you mean?” asked the laird.
Then Norman told him all that had occurred, adding—
“And I wish you would beat me, Mr Maclean, for I am sure I deserve it.”
“Boys only are whipped who are obstinate, and are not sorry for what they have done, and just to teach them right from wrong when they do not know it,” answered the laird. “I am glad to see that you are sorry, and that you do know that you did wrong; so, laddie, I cannot oblige you, you see, unless Fanny asks me.”
“Oh, she will not ask you, for she has forgiven me, and is so kind, and wants to forget all about it,” said Norman bursting into tears.
“That is just like her, the sweet little creature,” said the laird to himself, adding aloud, “If your sister has forgiven you, and you are sorry for what you have done, I have no reason to be angry or to whip you, so, my laddie, we will not talk of that any more. At the same time, I do not advise you to try and forget the matter, but just always think how kind your sister is, and try to please her, and be as kind to her as possible.”
While the laird retired to dress, Norman went into the drawing-room. No one was there. He did not know how to amuse himself. He wished that he could read; but he had not yet made sufficient progress to enable him to find any pleasure in a book. He hunted about for some of Fanny’s picture-books, but she had taken them upstairs, with the exception of one which he did not care much about. For want of a better, however, he took it to the table, and, clambering into a high-backed chair which stood at it, tried to make out the meaning of the lines at the bottom of the page with the aid of the pictures.
He had been more agitated during the day than usual, and he felt very weary. Gradually his head dropped down on his arms, which were resting on the table, and he fell fast asleep. Still he thought that he was broad awake. To his surprise he saw before him the bird-cage, which he was sure Fanny had taken up to granny’s room, for he had seen her go in with it; but there it stood on the table directly before him. Presently he heard a chirping sound, just as the linnet used to sing, and looking up, there, growing out of nothing, was the branch of a tree, and several little birds exactly like Pecksy perched upon it, while many more were flying through the sky towards him, and evidently coming down to join the others. Instead of singing merrily, however, like little Pecksy, their voices had a croaking angry sound. By degrees the voices changed from the notes of birds into those of human beings.