When they reached the path to the manse clearing Ranald and Hughie were alone. For some minutes Hughie followed Ranald in silence on a dog-trot, through the brule, dodging round stumps and roots and climbing over fallen trees, till they came to the pasture-field.
"Hold on, Ranald," panted Hughie, putting on a spurt and coming up even with his leader.
"Are you warm enough?" asked Ranald, looking down at the little flushed face.
"You bet!"
"Are you dry?"
"Huh, huh."
"Indeed, you are not too dry," said Ranald, feeling his wet shirt and trousers, "and your mother will be wondering.""I'll tell her," said Hughie, in a tone of exulting anticipation.
"What!" Ranald stood dead still.
"I'll tell her," replied Hughie. "She'll be awful glad. And she'll be awful thankful to you, Ranald."Ranald looked at him in amazement.
"I think I will jist be going back now," he said, at length. But Hughie seized him.
"Oh, Ranald, you must come with me."
He had pictured himself telling his mother of Ranald's exploit, and covering his hero with glory. But this was the very thing that Ranald dreaded and hated, and was bound to prevent.
"You will not be going to the Deepole again, I warrant you," Ranald said, with emphasis.
"Not go to the Deepole?"
"No, indeed. Your mother will put an end to that sort of thing.""Mother! Why not?""She will not be wanting to have you drowned."Hughie laughed scornfully. "You don't know my mother. She's not afraid of--of anything.""But she will be telling your father."This was a matter serious enough to give Hughie pause. His father might very likely forbid the Deepole.
"There is no need for telling," suggested Ranald. "And I will just go in for a minute.""Will you stay for supper?"Ranald shook his head. The manse kitchen was a bright place, and to see the minister's wife and to hear her talk was to Ranald pure delight. But then, Hughie might tell, and that would be too awful to bear.
"Do, Ranald," pleaded Hughie. "I'll not tell.""I am not so sure.""Sure as death!"
Still Ranald hesitated. Hughie grew desperate.
"God may kill me on the spot!" he cried, using the most binding of all oaths known to the boys. This was satisfactory, and Ranald went.
But Hughie was not skilled in deceiving, and especially in deceiving his mother. They were great friends, and Hughie shared all his secrets with her and knew that they were safe, unless they ought to be told. And so, when he caught sight of his mother waiting for him before the door, he left Ranald, and thrilling with the memory of the awful peril through which he had passed, rushed at her, and crying, "Oh, mother!" he flung himself into her arms. "I am so glad to see you again!""Why, Hughie, my boy, what's the matter?" said his mother, holding her arms tight about him. "And you are all wet! What is it?" But Hughie held her fast, struggling with himself.
"What is it?" she asked again, turning to Ranald.
"We were running pretty fast--and it is a hot day--and--" But the clear gray-brown eyes were upon him, and Ranald found it difficult to go on.
"Oh, mother, you mustn't ask," cried Hughie; "I promised not to tell.""Not to tell me, Hughie?" The surprise in the voice was quite too much for Hughie.
"Oh, mother, we did not want to frighten you--and--I promised.""Then you must keep your promise. Come away in, my boy. Come in, Ranald."It was her boy's first secret from her. Ranald saw the look of pain in the sweet face, and could not endure it.
"It was just nothing, Mrs. Murray," he began.
"Did you promise, too, Ranald?"
"No, that I did not. And there is nothing much to tell, only Hughie fell into the Deepole and the boys pulled him out!""Oh, mother!" exclaimed Hughie, "it was Ranald. He jumped right down from the tree right into the water, and kept me up. You told yourself, Ranald," he continued, delighted to be relieved of his promise; and on he went to give his mother, in his most picturesque style, a description of the whole scene, while Ranald stood looking miserable and ashamed.
"And Ranald was ashamed for me to tell you, and besides, he said you wouldn't let me go to the Deepole again. But you will, won't you mother? And you won't tell father, will you?"The mother stood listening, with face growing whiter and whiter, till he was done. Then she stooped down over the eager face for some moments, whispering, "My darling, my darling," and then coming to Ranald she held her hand on his shoulder for a moment, while she said, in a voice bravely struggling to be calm, "God reward you, Ranald. God grant my boy may always have so good and brave a friend when he needs."And from that day Ranald's life was different, for he had bound to him by a tie that nothing could ever break, a friend whose influence followed him, and steadied and lifted him up to greatness, long after the grave had hidden her from men's sight.
