goodly sprinkling of Muirtown mothers and sisters. Bulldog took up his
position early, just in front of the tent, and never moved till the
match was over; nor did he speak, save once; but the Seminary knew that
he was thinking plenty, and that the master of mathematics had his eye
upon them. Some distance off, the Count--that faithful friend of his
Seminary "dogs"--promenaded up and down a beat of some dozen yards, and
spent the time in one long excitement, cheering with weird foreign
accent when a good hit was made, swearing in French when anything went
wrong, bewailing almost unto tears the loss of a Seminary wicket, and
hurrying to shake hands with every one of his eleven, whether he had
done well or ill, when he came in from the wicket. Mr. McGuffie moved
through the crowd from time to time, and finally succeeded in making a
bet on the most advantageous terms with that eminent dignitary, the Earl
of Kilspindie's coachman, who was so contemptuous of the Seminary from
the Castle point of view that he took the odds of five to one in
sovereigns that they would be beaten. And on the outskirts of the crowd,
half ashamed to be there and doubtful of his reception, hovered Bailie
MacConachie.
The Seminary won the toss, and by the advice of Jim Fleming sent the
Columbians in, and there was no Seminary lad nor any Muirtown man, for
the Frenchman did not count--who denied that the strangers played a
good, clean game--pretty form, and brave scoring; and on their part the
Columbians were not slow to acknowledge that the Seminary knew how to
field, wherever they had learned it. No ball sliding off the bat, could
pass Dunc Robertson, and as for byes they were impossible with Speug as
long-stop, for those were the days when there were long-stops. Cosh had
his faults, and they were not few, but the Seminary thought more of him
after a miraculous catch which he made at long-off; and Bauldie, at
square-leg, might not be able to prevent a two occasionally, but he
refused to allow fours. Jock Howieson was a graceless bowler and an
offence to the eye, but his balls were always in the line of the middle
stump, and their rate that of an express train; and Nestie not only had
a pretty style, but a way of insinuating himself among the wickets which
four Columbians had not the power to refuse. There was a bit of work at
long-field, which even the Columbians could not help cheering, though it
lost them a wicket, and the way in which a ball was sent up from
cover-point to Dunc Robertson, and so took another wicket, wrung a word
of private praise from the Columbian umpire. Still, the Seminary was
fighting against heavy odds, an uphill, hopeless battle, and when the
visitors went out with a hundred and one to their score, Mr. McGuffie
senior was doubtful of his sovereign; and only the Count prophesied
triumph, going round and shaking hands individually with every one of
his "dogs," and magnifying their doings unto the sky. Bailie
MacConachie, by this time was lost in the crowd, working his way
gradually to the front, and looking as if he would have liked to cheer,
but thinking it better not to call attention to his presence. Then the
Seminary went in, and there is no question but that they had hard times
at the hands of the Columbians, who were well trained and played all
together. Robertson, who was the hope of the Seminary, went out for
twenty, and Bauldie for ten; Nestie played carefully, but only managed
twelve, and the other fellows were too easily bowled or caught out, each
adding something, but none doing much, till at last the score stood at
sixty-nine; with the last two of the Seminary in. Things were looking
very black, and even the Count was dashed, while Bulldog's face
suggested that next Monday the whole school would be thrashed, and that
a special treat would be reserved for the eleven. Mr. McGuffie, however,
with a sportsman's instinct, seized the opportunity to make another bet
with his lordship's coachman, and increased the odds from five to ten,
and the dignitary declared it was simply robbing McGuffie of his money.
"We'll see aboot that, my man, when the horses pass the line. I've seen
many a race changed before the finish," and Mr. McGuffie took his
position in the front row to see the end.
Thirty-three runs to make to win the match, and only one wicket to fall,
and the Columbians discounted their victory in a gentlemanly fashion,
while Jim Fleming looked very grave. "Give them no chances," he said to
Howieson, as that stolid youth went in to join Speug, who had been at
the wicket for some time, but had only scored ten. Any over might close
the match, and perhaps the Columbians' bowlers grew careless, for three
overs passed and the two friends of many a scrimmage were still in, and
neither of them had shown any intention of going out. Quite the
contrary, for Speug had broken into fours, and Howieson, who played with
the gracefulness of a cow, would allow no ball to interfere with his
wickets, and had run up a couple of twos on his own account.
"Juist beginnin'," said Speug's father. "Him oot sune? I tell you he's
settlin' down for the afternoon and that laddie Howieson is a dour
deevil. The fact is"--Mr. McGuffie took a circle of spectators into his
confidence--"they're juist gettin' into the stride." The Count preened
his plumage and plucked up heart again, while the Seminary lads,
gathered in a solid mass to the left of the tent, were afraid to cheer
lest they should invite defeat, and, while they pretended unconcern,
could feel their hearts beating. "They couldn't be better matched," said
Nestie. "Speug and Jock--they've had l-lots of things in hand together,
and they'll d-do it yet. See!" and at that moment Speug sent a ball to
the boundary. Now there were only seventeen, instead of thirty-three
runs to make.
They were playing a game of the utmost carefulness, blocking the balls
which were dangerous and could not be played; declining to give the
faintest chance of a catch, and taking a run short rather than be run
out, and so the score crept up with a two from Howieson, who had got
into a habit of twos, and being a phlegmatic youth, kept to it, and a
three and a four from Speug, and another two from Howieson, and a three
from Speug.
Across the heads of the people McGuffie shouted to the coachman, "Take
you again, Petrie--ten to one, five to one, three to one against the
Seminary?" And when there was no answer, Mr. McGuffie offered to take it
even from anybody, and finally appealed to the man, next him. It was
Bailie MacConachie, who forgetful of the past and everything except the
glory of Muirtown, was now standing beside Speug's father and did not
care. "Speug's no dead yet Bailie"; and then, catching the look in
MacConachie's face, "bygones are bygones, we're a' Muirtown men the
day"; and then his voice rose again across the crowd "I'll give ye odds,
coachman--two to one against the 'Bumbees'" for Howieson had scored
another two, and two more runs would win the match for the Seminary.
Then a terrible thing happened, for Howieson, instead of stopping the
ball with his bat, must needs stop it with his leg. "How's that?" cried
the Columbian wicket-keeper, "how's that, umpire?" Was his leg before
wicket or not? And for the moment every one, Seminary and Columbian,
Bulldog, McGuffie, Bailie, men, women and children, held their breath.
It would have been maddening to have been beaten only by one run, and
after such a gallant fight.
"Not out!" replied the umpire in two seconds; but it seemed ten minutes,
and a yell went up from the throats of the Seminary, and Bailie
MacConachie took off his hat and wiped his forehead, which Mr. McGuffie
noted with sympathy and laid up to the Bailie's credit. There was
another crisis at hand which had been forgotten by Muirtown, but it was
very keenly present to the minds of the Columbians. One over more and
the time limit would be reached and the game closed. If the Seminary
could make two runs, they would win; if the Columbians could get Speug's
wicket, they would win. They put on their most dangerous man, whose ball
had a trick of coming down just six inches in front of the block, and
then, having escaped the attention of the batsman, of coming perilously
near the wicket. His attack compelled the most watchful defence, and
hardly allowed the chance of a run. Two balls Speug blocked, but could
do no more with them; the third got past and shaved the wicket; the
fourth Speug sent to slip but the fielding allowed no run; the fifth,
full of cunning, he stopped with difficulty, and fear seized the heart
of Muirtown that the last would capture the wickets and give the victory
to the visitors. And it was the cleverest of all the balls, for it was
sent to land inside the block, just so much nearer as might deceive the
batsman accustomed to the former distance. No sooner had it left the
bowler's hand then Fleming saw the risk and gnawed his moustache. Every
eye followed the ball through the air on what seemed, for the anxiety of
it, a course of miles. The Columbians drew together unconsciously in
common hope. Robertson, the Seminary captain, dug his right heel into
the ground, and opposite, between the field and the river, the leader of
that rapscallion school, the "Pennies," stood erect, intent,
open-mouthed with his crew around, for once silent and motionless. Speug
took a swift stride forward and met the ball nearly three feet from the
ground, and, gathering up all the strength in his tough little body, he
caught that ball on the middle of the bat and sent it over square-leg's
head, who had come in too near and made one hopeless clutch at it, and
through the ranks of the "Pennies," who cleared out on every side to
let it pass as they had never yielded to Speug himself; and ere Muirtown
had found voice to cheer, the red-haired varlet who ruled the "Pennies"
had flung his bonnet, such as it was, into the air, for, the ball was in
the river, and the Seminary had won by three runs and one wicket.
Things happened then which are beyond the pen of man, but it was freely
said that the "Hurrah" of Bulldog, master of mathematics, drowned the
hunting-cry of Mr. McGuffie, and that when the Count, in his joy over
the victory of his "jolly dogs," knocked off Bailie MacConachie's hat,
and would have apologised, the Bailie kicked his own hat in triumph.
This is certain, that the Seminary carried Speug and Howieson both
protesting, from the North Meadow, in through the big school door; that
Bulldog walked at the head of the procession, like a general coming home
in his glory; that he insisted on the Bailie walking with him; that,
after all the cheering was over, Speug proposed one cheer more for
Bailie MacConachie, and that when the eleven departed for Bulldog's
house for supper half the Seminary escorted the Bailie home.
BULLDOG'S RECOMPENSE
XVI
When the rumour flew through Muirtown in Spring that Bulldog was to
resign at the close of the summer term it was laughed to scorn, and
treated as an agreeable jest. Had it been the rector who was more a
learned ghost than a human being, or the English master who had grown
stout and pursey, or some of the other masters who came and went like
shadows, Muirtown had not given another thought to the matter, but
Bulldog retiring, it was a very facetious idea, and Muirtown held its
sides. Perhaps it was delicate health was the cause; and then Dr. Manley
stormed through half Muirtown, declaring that he had never known Dugald
MacKinnon have an hour's sickness except once when that little scoundrel
Speug, or rather he should say Sir Peter McGuffie, consulting physician,
brought his master through triumphantly with a trifle of assistance from
himself as a general practitioner. Was it old age that ailed Bulldog?
Then Bailie MacConachie was constrained to testify in public places, and
was supported by all the other Bailies except MacFarlane, who got his
education at Drumtochty that the mathematical master of Muirtown Academy
had thrashed them all as boys, every man jack of them, being then not
much older than themselves, and that he was now--barring his white
hair--rather fresher than in the days of their youth? Had success
departed at last from the mathematical class-room, after resting there
as in a temple of wingless victory for three generations? Was it not
known everywhere that William Pirie, whose grandfather was a senior
pupil when Bulldog took the reins fifty-eight years ago, had simply
romped through Edinburgh University gathering medals, prizes, bursaries,
fellowships, and everything else that a mathematician could lay his
hands on, and then had won a scholarship at Trinity College, Cambridge,
with papers that were talked about in the College for fourteen days, and
were laid past by one examiner as a treasure of achievement. May be, and
this was no doubt the very heart of the jest, Bulldog had lost control
of the boys, and his right hand had forgotten its cunning! So the boys
were insulted in their homes by sympathetic inquiries as to when they
had their last interview with the tawse and whether the canings were as
nippy as ever, for Muirtown was proud to think that its favourite master
was an expert in every branch of his calling and dealt with the
grandchildren as thoroughly as he had done with the grandfathers. And
Bailie MacFarlane meeting Bulldog crossing the bridge one morning as
alert in step and austere in countenance as ever, asked him how he was
keeping with affected sympathy, and allowed himself the luxury of a
chuckle as one who has made a jocose remark.
It came therefore with a shock to Muirtown when the following letter was
read in the Town Council and was known next morning to every citizen
from the Procurator Fiscal to London John.
_To the Lord Provost, the Bailies, and the Council of Muirtown._
"Gentlemen,--I beg to resign, as from the close of the present
term, the position of Master of Mathematics, Arithmetic and
Writing, in Muirtown Seminary, and to thank the council for the
trust which they have placed in me for fifty-eight years.
"I am, my Lord Provost and Gentlemen,
"Your obedient servant,
"Dugald MacKinnon."
When Muirtown recovered itself a conflict began between Bulldog and the
citizens which lasted for four intense weeks in which the town was at
fever heat and Bulldog was outwardly colder and calmer than ever. And he
won all along the line. The Council passed a resolution of respectful
admiration, studded with stately adjectives, and, for such a document,
almost heated in feeling, to which Mr. MacKinnon sent a courteous but
guarded reply. The Council intimated that they would consider his letter
to be non-existent, and not even put him to the trouble of withdrawing,
and Mr. MacKinnon intimated to the Town Clerk that in that case he must
trouble the Council with an exact copy. The Council then appointed a
deputation to wait on him, and Mr. MacKinnon declared himself unworthy
of such an unprecedented honour, and declined to see them. And then the
Council, in despair, and with a sad sense of the inevitable, strained
their powers to the utmost with immense unanimity, and voted a handsome
pension to "Dugald MacKinnon, Esq., Master of Arts, in grateful,
although unworthy recognition of the unbroken, unwearied, and invaluable
service he has rendered to the education of this ancient city for a
period of more than half a century, during which time nearly two
thousand lads have been sent forth equipped for the practical business
of life in Muirtown, in the great cities of our land and unto the ends
of the earth." Mr. MacKinnon explained in a letter of perfect
handwriting that he was quite undeserving of such a resolution, as he
had done nothing more than his duty, and that he could not accept any
retiring allowance--first, because he was not sure that it was strictly
legal, and, secondly, because he had made provision for his last years,
but on this occasion he signed himself "Your most obliged servant." It
was then determined to entertain this obdurate man at a banquet, and to
make a presentation of plate to him. And Mr. MacKinnon was again most
grateful for the kindness of his fellow citizens and the honour they
proposed to do him, but he clearly indicated he would neither accept the
banquet nor a piece of plate. It dawned gradually upon Muirtown, a city
slow but sure of understanding, and with a silent sense of the fitness
of things, that Mr. Dugald MacKinnon, having reigned like Cæsar Augustus
for fifty-eight years without contradiction and without conciliation,
giving no favours and receiving none, but doing his part by the laddies
of Muirtown with all his strength of mind and conscience and right arm,
was not going to weaken at the end of his career. For him to rise at the
close of a dinner and return thanks for a piece of plate would have been
out of keeping with his severe and lonely past, and for him to be a
pensioner, even of the Town Council, would have been an indignity. He
had reigned longer and more absolutely than any master in the annals of
the Seminary, and to the last day he had held the sceptre without
flinching. As a king, strong, uncompromising and invincible, he would
lay aside the purple, and disappear into private life. And Muirtown was
proud of Bulldog.
Bulldog had beaten the magistrates of Muirtown in all their glory, and
his fellow citizens united in one enthusiastic body, but he had not yet
settled with the boys. They had not expressed in resolutions or any
other way their appreciation of their master, and they had followed the
futile attempts of their parents with silent contempt. It was wonderful
that grown up people should be so far left to themselves as to suppose
that Bulldog, their own Bulldog, would ever condescend to be dined by
Bailies and stand at the close of dinner like a dithering idiot with a
silver jug in his hands, or some such trash, while his hands were
itching to thrash every one of his hosts as he had thrashed them long
ago. When the boys heard their fathers raging at Bulldog's proud
obstinacy they offered no remark, but when they got together they
chortled with glee, and felt that there was comfort and compensation for
many an honest thrashing, in the fact that Bulldog was as much ruler of
Muirtown as he had been of the Seminary. No rebellion against him had
ever had the faintest gleam of hope, and no rebel had ever escaped
without his just punishment, but the boys, rascals to the last and full
of devilry, agreed together by an instinct rather than a conference that
they would close Bulldog's last term with a royal insurrection. He had
governed them with an iron hand, and they had been proud to be governed,
considering the wounds of Bulldog ten thousand times more desirable than
the kisses of McIntyres', but they would have one big revenge and then
Bulldog and his "fiddlers" would part for ever. They held long
confabulations together in the Rector's class-room while that learned
man was reading aloud some new and specially ingenious translation of an
ode and in the class-room of modern languages, while Moossy's successor
was trying to teach Jock Howieson how to pronounce a modified U, in the
German tongue, in Mrs. McWhae's tuck-shop when the "gundy" allowed them
to speak at all, and at the Russian guns where they gathered in the
break instead of playing rounders. The junior boys were not admitted to
those mysterious meetings, but were told to wait and see what they would
see, and whatever plan the seniors formed not a word of it oozed out in
the town. But the Seminary was going to do something mighty, and Bulldog
would repent the years of his tyranny.
Funds were necessary for the campaign, since it was going to be a big
affair, and Speug directed that a war chest should at once be
established. No one outside the secret junta knew what was going to be
done with the money, but orders were issued that by hook or crook every
boy in school except the merest kids should pay sixpence a week to Jock
Howieson, who was not an accomplished classical scholar nor specially
versed in geometry but who could keep the most intricate accounts in his
head with unerring accuracy, and knew every boy in the Seminary by head
mark. And although he was not a fluent speaker, he was richly endowed
with other powers of persuasion, and he would be a very daring young
gentleman indeed, and almost indifferent to circumstances, who did not
pay his sixpence to Jock before set of sun each Monday. Jock made no
demands, and gave no receipts; he engaged in no conversation whatever,
but simply waited and took. If any one tried to compound with Jock for
threepence, one look at the miserable produced the sixpence; and when
little Cosh following in the devious steps of his elder brother
insinuated that he had paid already, Jock dropped him into the lade to
refresh his memory. No one directly inquired what was to be done with
the money, for every one knew it was safe with Jock, and that it would
be well spent by the mighty four who now ruled the school: Jock,
Bauldie, Nestie, and Speug--Dunc Robertson after a brief course at
Sandhurst having got his commission in his father's regiment. And it was
also known that every halfpenny was going to give a big surprise to
Bulldog, so the boys, during those weeks treated their fathers with
obsequious respect for commercial reasons, and coaxed additional pennies
out of their mothers on every false pretence, and paid endearing visits
to maiden aunts, and passed Mrs. McWhae's shop, turning away their eyes
and noses from vanity, and sold to grinding capitalists their tops,
marbles, young rabbits, and kites; and "as sure as death" every Monday
the silent but observant treasurer received for eight weeks 5£ 4s., at
the rate of sixpence a head, from 208 boys. They kept their secret like
an oyster, and there was not one informer among the 208; but curiosity
grew hot, and there were many speculations, and it was widely believed
that the money would be used in sending a cane of the most magnificent
proportions to Bulldog, as a remembrance of his teaching days, and a
mark of respect from his pupils. One boy, being left to himself, dared
to suggest this to Speug; and when he looked round at some distance off,
Speug's eye was still upon him, and he declared from his experience that
it was not healthy to question Speug. Two hundred and four boys,
however, with the observant faculties of Indian scouts, and intent upon
discovery could not be altogether baffled, and various bits of reliable
information were passed round the school. That the four had gone one
evening into Bailie MacConachie's, who was now on terms of high
popularity with the school; that the Count who was even then sickening
for his death, and Mr. McGuffie, whom nothing but an accident could
kill, had also been present; that at different times the Count had been
seen examining the gold watches in Gillespie's shop, whose watches were
carried by every man of standing in the Scots Midlands, and pronouncing
his judgment on their appearance with vivacious gestures; that the
Bailie had been seen examining the interior of a watch with awful
solemnity while Councillor Gillespie hung upon his decision; and, to
crown all, that Mr. McGuffie senior, after a lengthy interview with the
head of the firm, during which he had given him gratuitous advice on
three coming races, had left Gillespie's, declaring with pronounced
language that if certain persons did not obtain certain things for £40
he, Mr. McGuffie, although not a person giving to betting, would wager
ten to one that the place of business would close in a year. It was
whispered therefore in the corridors, with some show of truth, that the
Seminary was going to take vengeance on Bulldog with a gift, and that
the gift, whatever it might be, was lying in Gillespie's shop. And the
school speculated whether there was any one of their number, even Speug
himself, who would dare to face Bulldog with a gift; and whether, if he
did, that uncompromising man might not occupy his last week of
mastership in thrashing the school one by one, from the oldest unto the
youngest, for their blazing impertinence.
The closing day was a Thursday that year, and it was characteristic of
Bulldog that he met his classes as usual on Wednesday, and when
Howieson disgraced himself beyond usual in Euclid, having disgraced
himself more moderately on four preceding days that he administered
discipline on Jock with conscientious severity. Jock was the last boy
Bulldog thrashed, and he was so lifted up as to be absolutely
unendurable for the rest of the day, and boasted of the distinction for
many a year. As four o'clock approached, the boys began to grow
restless, and Bulldog's own voice was not perfectly steady when he
closed the last problem with Q. E. D.