There was a representative turn-out of Muirtown men, together with a goodly sprinkling of Muirtown mothers and sisters. Bulldog took up his position early, just in front of the tent, and nevermoved 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 theColumbians 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 ofhis "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, andtwo 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 compelledthe 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 onevery 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.
When the rumour flew through Muirtown inSpring 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 theother 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 asthoroughly 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 theline. 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 hewas 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 intoprivate 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 toJock 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 motherson 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 hisclasses 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.
"Q. E. D.; yes, Q. E. D., laddies, we have carried the argument to its conclusion according to the principles of things, and the book is finished. There is still seven minutes of the hour remaining, we will spend it in revising the work of the Senior Algebra Class."
Their work has not been revised unto this day, for at that moment the door opened without any one knocking, and without any one offering an apology, and William Pirie, Master of Arts of Edinburgh, and scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Duncan Robertson, 2nd Lieutenant in the Perthshire Buffs, made their appearance, accompanied by Bailie MacConachie, whose dignity was fearsome; the Count, who waved his hand gracefully to the school, and Mr. McGuffie, who included everybody in an affable nod; and behind thisimposing deputation every boy of Muirtown Seminary who was not already in the mathematical class-room. Bulldog turned upon them like a lion caught in a snare, and if he had had only thirty seconds preparation, it is firmly believed he would have driven the whole deputation, old and young, out of the class-room and dealt with the conspirators who remained unto the setting of the sun. But it was a cunning plot, arranged and timed with minute care, and before Bulldog could say a word Pirie had begun, and he knew better than to say much.
"If we have offended you, sir, you will pardon us for it is our last offence, and we have this time a fair excuse. Your laddies could not let you leave that desk and go out of this room for the last time without telling you that they are grateful, because you have tried to make them scholars, and to make them men. If any of us be able in after years to do our part well, we shall owe it more than anything else to your teaching and your discipline."
Then Robertson, who was the other spokesman the four had chosen, began.
"Can't make a speech, sir, it is not in my line, but everything Pirie said is true, and we are proud of our chief."
"This," said Pirie, turning to the boys, "is the watch and chain which we ask the master to do us the honour of wearing through the days to come,and the inscription, sir," and now Pirie turned to the desk, "crowns our offence, but you will know how to read it!"
"TO BULLDOG,WITH THE RESPECT AND AFFECTIONOFHIS LADDIES."
It was Bailie MacConachie—may everything be pardoned to him—who started the cheer; but it was Mr. McGuffie who led it over hedge and ditch, and it was of such a kind that the mathematical class-room had to be repaired before the beginning of next term. During the storm Bulldog stood with the watch in his hand, and his cheeks as white as his hair, and when at last there was silence he tried to speak, but the tender heart had broken the iron mask, and all he could say was "laddies."
The Count, with quick tact, led off the second cheer, and the boys filed out of the class-room. Bulldog sat down at the desk, the watch before him, and covered his face with his hands. When an hour later he walked across the North Meadow there was not a boy to be seen but Bailie MacFarlane, who met him on the bridge (and passed without speaking), noticed that Bulldog was wearing his laddies' gift.
Sitting in his garden that evening and lookingdown upon the plain, Bulldog called Nestie to his side, and pointed to the river. The evening sun was shining on the fields, ripening for harvest, and on the orchards, laden with fruit; and in the soft light, a rough weather-beaten coaster, which had fought her way through many a gale in the North Sea, and could not hold together much longer was dropping down with the tide. Newer and swifter vessels would take her place in the days to come, but the old craft had done her work well and faithfully, and now the cleanest and kindest of Scots rivers was carrying her gently to the eternal ocean.