'Come on, you, &c., &c.,' cried the cabman, plucking up heart and putting himself in fighting shape.He looked one of those insolent fellows whom none see discomfited more gladly than the honest men of his own class.The same moment he lay between his horse's feet.
Shargar turned to Robert, and saying only, 'There, Robert!' turned again towards the woman.The cabman rose bleeding, and, desiring no more of the same, climbed on his box, and went off, belabouring his horse, and pursued by a roar from the street, for the spectators were delighted at his punishment.
'Now, mother,' said Shargar, panting with excitement.
'What ca' they ye?' she asked, still doubtful, but as proud of being defended as if the coarse words of her assailant had had no truth in them.'Ye canna be my lang-leggit Geordie.'
'What for no?'
'Ye're a gentleman, faith!'
'An' what for no, again?' returned Shargar, beginning to smile.
'Weel, it's weel speired.Yer father was ane ony gait--gin sae be 'at ye are as ye say.'
Moray put his head close to hers, and whispered some words that nobody heard but herself.
'It's ower lang syne to min' upo' that,' she said in reply, with a look of cunning consciousness ill settled upon her fine features.
'But ye can be naebody but my Geordie.Haith, man!' she went on, regarding him once more from head to foot, 'but ye're a credit to me, I maun alloo.Weel, gie me a sovereign, an' I s' never come near ye.'
Poor Shargar in his despair turned half mechanically towards Robert.
He felt that it was time to interfere.
'You forget, mother,' said Shargar, turning again to her, and speaking English now, 'it was I that claimed you, and not you that claimed me.'
She seemed to have no idea of what he meant.
'Come up the road here, to oor public, an' tak a glaiss, wuman,'
said Falconer.'Dinna haud the fowk luikin' at ye.'
The temptation of a glass of something strong, and the hope of getting money out of them, caused an instant acquiescence.She said a few words to the young woman, who proceeded at once to tie her donkey's head to the tail of the other cart.
'Shaw the gait than,' said the elder, turning again to Falconer.
Shargar and he led the way to St.Paul's Churchyard, and the woman followed faithfully.The waiter stared when they entered.
'Bring a glass of whisky,' said Falconer, as he passed on to their private room.When the whisky arrived, she tossed it off, and looked as if she would like another glass.
'Yer father 'ill hae ta'en ye up, I'm thinkin', laddie?' she said, turning to her son.
'No,' answered Shargar, gloomily.'There's the man that took me up.'
'An' wha may ye be?' she asked, turning to Falconer.
'Mr.Falconer,' said Shargar.
'No a son o' Anerew Faukner?' she asked again, with evident interest.
'The same,' answered Robert.
'Well, Geordie,' she said, turning once more to her son, 'it's like mither, like father to the twa o' ye.'
'Did you know my father?' asked Robert, eagerly.
Instead of answering him she made another remark to her son.
'He needna be ashamed o' your company, ony gait--queer kin' o' a mither 'at I am.'
'He never was ashamed of my company,' said Shargar, still gloomily.
'Ay, I kent yer father weel eneuch,' she said, now answering Robert--'mair by token 'at I saw him last nicht.He was luikin' nae that ill.'
Robert sprung from his seat, and caught her by the arm.
'Ow! ye needna gang into sic a flurry.He'll no come near ye, I s'
warran'.'
'Tell me where he is,' said Robert.'Where did you see him? I'll gie ye a' 'at I hae gin ye'll tak me till him.'
'Hooly! hooly! Wha's to gang luikin' for a thrum in a hay-sow?'
returned she, coolly.'I only said 'at I saw him.'
'But are ye sure it was him?' asked Falconer.
'Ay, sure eneuch,' she answered.
'What maks ye sae sure?'
''Cause I never was vrang yet.Set a man ance atween my twa een, an' that 'll be twa 'at kens him whan 's ain mither 's forgotten 'im.'
'Did you speak to him?'
'Maybe ay, an' maybe no.I didna come here to be hecklet afore a jury.'
'Tell me what he's like,' said Robert, agitated with eager hope.
'Gin ye dinna ken what he's like, what for suld ye tak the trouble to speir? But 'deed ye'll ken what he's like whan ye fa' in wi'
him,' she added, with a vindictive laugh--vindictive because he had given her only one glass of strong drink.
With the laugh she rose, and made for the door.They rose at the same moment to detain her.Like one who knew at once to fight and flee, she turned and stunned them as with a blow.
'She's a fine yoong thing, yon sister o' yours, Geordie.She'll be worth siller by the time she's had a while at the schuil.'
The men looked at each other aghast.When they turned their eyes she had vanished.They rushed to the door, and, parting, searched in both directions.But they were soon satisfied that it was of no use.Probably she had found a back way into Paternoster Row, whence the outlets are numerous.
