They set out three hours before noon, carrying the great kite, and Robert's school bag, of green baize, full of sundries: a cart from Bodyfauld was to fetch their luggage later in the day.As soon as they were clear of the houses, Shargar lay down behind a dyke with the kite, and Robert set off at full speed for Dooble Sanny's shop, making a half-circuit of the town to avoid the chance of being seen by grannie or Betty.Having given due warning before, he found the brown-paper parcel ready for him, and carried it off in fearful triumph.He joined Shargar in safety, and they set out on their journey as rich and happy a pair of tramps as ever tramped, having six weeks of their own in their pockets to spend and not spare.
A hearty welcome awaited them, and they were soon revelling in the glories of the place, the first instalment of which was in the shape of curds and cream, with oatcake and butter, as much as they liked.
After this they would 'e'en to it like French falconers' with their kite, for the wind had been blowing bravely all the morning, having business to do with the harvest.The season of stubble not yet arrived, they were limited to the pasturage and moorland, which, however, large as their kite was, were spacious enough.Slowly the great-headed creature arose from the hands of Shargar, and ascended about twenty feet, when, as if seized with a sudden fit of wrath or fierce indignation, it turned right round and dashed itself with headlong fury to the earth, as if sooner than submit to such influences a moment longer it would beat out its brains at once.
'It hasna half tail eneuch,' cried Robert.'It's queer 'at things winna gang up ohn hauden them doon.Pu' a guid han'fu' o' clover, Shargar.She's had her fa', an' noo she'll gang up a' richt.She's nane the waur o' 't.'
Upon the next attempt, the kite rose triumphantly.But just as it reached the length of the string it shot into a faster current of air, and Robert found himself first dragged along in spite of his efforts, and then lifted from his feet.After carrying him a few yards, the dragon broke its string, dropped him in a ditch, and, drifting away, went fluttering and waggling downwards in the distance.
'Luik whaur she gangs, Shargar,' cried Robert, from the ditch.
Experience coming to his aid, Shargar took landmarks of the direction in which it went; and ere long they found it with its tail entangled in the topmost branches of a hawthorn tree, and its head beating the ground at its foot.It was at once agreed that they would not fly it again till they got some stronger string.
Having heard the adventure, Mr.Lammie produced a shilling from the pocket of his corduroys, and gave it to Robert to spend upon the needful string.He resolved to go to the town the next morning and make a grand purchase of the same.During the afternoon he roamed about the farm with his hands in his pockets, revolving if not many memories, yet many questions, while Shargar followed like a pup at the heels of Miss Lammie, to whom, during his former visit, he had become greatly attached.
In the evening, resolved to make a confidant of Mr.Lammie, and indeed to cast himself upon the kindness of the household generally, Robert went up to his room to release his violin from its prison of brown paper.What was his dismay to find--not his bonny leddy, but her poor cousin, the soutar's auld wife! It was too bad.Dooble Sanny indeed!
He first stared, then went into a rage, and then came out of it to go into a resolution.He replaced the unwelcome fiddle in the parcel, and came down-stairs gloomy and still wrathful, but silent.
The evening passed over, and the inhabitants of the farmhouse went early to bed.Robert tossed about fuming on his.He had not undressed.
About eleven o'clock, after all had been still for more than an hour, he took his shoes in one hand and the brown parcel in the other, and descending the stairs like a thief, undid the quiet wooden bar that secured the door, and let himself out.All was darkness, for the moon was not yet up, and he felt a strange sensation of ghostliness in himself--awake and out of doors, when he ought to be asleep and unconscious in bed.He had never been out so late before, and felt as if walking in the region of the dead, existing when and where he had no business to exist.For it was the time Nature kept for her own quiet, and having once put her children to bed--hidden them away with the world wiped out of them--enclosed them in her ebony box, as George Herbert says--she did not expect to have her hours of undress and meditation intruded upon by a venturesome school-boy.Yet she let him pass.He put on his shoes and hurried to the road.He heard a horse stamp in the stable, and saw a cat dart across the corn-yard as he went through.Those were all the signs of life about the place.
